"Ready?" she asked.
"Yeah, let's go."
They headed down the hill, faces turned into the fierce wind, and it took all of their strength to hold the injured skier behind them. If they weren't careful, he would go sliding down the hill without them, right into the stream. They both walked sideways, letting their snowshoes dig into the side of the hill for support. The steep hill leveled out before the stream, and they were able to relax the last fifty feet. At Little Bear Creek, which was now covered with snow, Chris turned upstream and she knew immediately that it wasn't going to be easy. Boulders littered the sides, some covered entirely with snow, and time and again they stepped, only to sink up to their waists as their feet missed a rock.
"Bobby, we've got to go a mile," she yelled against the wind. "Help me gauge the distance, okay?"
"I'll try," he yelled back.
She cringed as a gust of wind hit, nearly knocking them over. They could only see a few feet ahead as snow swirled in their faces. The blizzard had hit. She braced against the wind with every step and kept her eyes glued to the stream so that they wouldn't get lost. She thought briefly of all the stories she had heard about people lost in blizzards, wandering around in circles for hours before succumbing to the cold and surrendering to death. She wasn't about to let that happen to them. If nothing else, they would head into the trees and try to put up a tent and lie three-deep to try to stay warm. Stay warm? She couldn't remember the last time she'd been warm. She felt nearly frozen, head to toe.
She stared ahead, her eyes focused on the stream. She felt her nose running and ran a cold gloved hand under it and realized that it was numb. The wind pounded around them swirling the snow, and she lowered her head and continued on, trying to ignore the coldness that surrounded them.
She finally stopped to rest and turned to Bobby.
"How far?" she yelled.
He pushed his parka up his arm and looked at his watch. "Not a mile yet, I don't think," he said. "Where the hell are we going, anyway?"
"I'm not sure," she said, knowing he'd not heard her. God, it felt like they'd traveled at least five miles. She turned back into the wind and walked on, spitting out an obscenity as she sank again to her waist. She got back up and continued on, Bobby beside her as they pulled the unconscious Kenny Walker between them.
Fifteen minutes later, she again stopped. "Bobby, it's got to have been a mile."
"What are we looking for?"
"A cave," she yelled.
"Cave? What cave?"
"There's supposed to be a cave around here."
"Are you sure? I've never heard of a cave."
"No, I'm not sure," she said and looked around, trying desperately to see through the thickening snow. What had Jessie said? They would come to a flat area with outcroppings of granite. Right or left? She thought left, but she wasn't sure. She peered into the snow, but it was no good. She couldn't see two feet in front of them. They were never going to find the caves like this.
"Bobby, I'm going to go out looking," she said.
"No way. You'll get lost. You can't see shit," he yelled.
"I'll tie a rope to you," she said and took off her pack. She pulled out the rest of the rope and tied the end around her waist. The other end she gave to Bobby. "It's the only way."
"Be careful," he called as she walked away.
She stumbled blindly into the snow, her snowshoes now caked with wet packed snow. She knew instantly that they were in the right area. Flat, no rocks or trees that she could tell. She walked on, arms outstretched so that she wouldn't run into anything. Suddenly before her, were piles of rocks. Granite. She was close. She walked farther on, only feet from the rocks. She looked up, but couldn't tell how high they were. For all she knew, these were simply boulders, only five or six feet high, not the massive outcroppings that would form caves. It didn't feel right. She stopped and turned back, walking the opposite way along the rocks, her hands out guiding her. The wind whipped against the rock wall, bouncing back into her face, stinging her eyes as she squinted against its force.
Just as she was about to go back, her rope having run out, she saw the black hole against all the white surrounding her. She opened her eyes wide, hoping she was really seeing it and not just imagining it. There, a large hole opened up in the rocks. Her rope was tight, and she couldn't reach it to know for sure, but even if it wasn't Jessie's cave, it would give them shelter. She turned, her frozen hands gripping the rope, and made her way back to Bobby.
"I've found something," she yelled when Bobby was within sight. "It'll have to do."
She untied the rope around her waist and shoved it back in her pack, then slung it over her shoulders. "Come on."
She couldn't remember ever having been so cold. Her fingers were numb inside her gloves, and her feet felt like stumps as they walked against the wind, their heads bent as they followed her tracks.
"There," she said and pointed to the black hole facing them.
"I see it," Bobby yelled and they quickened their pace, pulling the skier between them.
They stopped at the entryway, both fishing their flashlights from their packs. They flashed the light around the room, then walked in and burst out laughing in relief. There, in the center of the small room, was a fire ring and against one wall was a pile of old, dried wood.
"Jesus, I can't believe it," Bobby said and his voice echoed against the walls.
"Neither can I. Come on, let's get a fire going."
They tossed their packs on the floor and quickly broke up the dried wood. Chris took some toilet paper from her pack and made small balls and laid it in the center of the ring. Bobby piled on small sticks and some dried bark and she set a match to it and soon the flame licked hungrily at the dry wood. Bobby laid on more, gradually building a warm campfire.
Chris took her sleeping bag and the blanket off of Kenny and pulled him closer to the fire. She nearly screamed when he spoke to her.
"Where am I?" he whispered.
"Jesus Christ!"
She found her flashlight and shone it in his face. He closed his eyes against the bright light, and she switched it off.
"We're Search and Rescue," she explained.
"Where's Michael?"
"He's fine. But right now, we've got to get you warm." She turned to Bobby. "Help me get him near the fire."
They pulled him as near as they dared, then she and Bobby stripped off their gloves and held their hands over the flames, ignoring the stinging as they warmed.
"I've never been this cold before, McKenna."
"I'm pretty much a popsicle myself." She looked to their injured skier. "Hey, what's your name?"
"Kenny. Kenny Walker," he said.
"What day is it?"
"It's Saturday... no, Sunday."
"What month?"
"I'm sure there's a reason for this?" he asked.
"What month?" she asked again.
"November and don't ask me the date. I always forget the damn date over the weekend," he said and offered her a smile.
"Good. Well, I pronounce you free of a concussion," she said, then turned to look at his face. He closed his eyes against the flashlight. "But you're probably going to need some stitches here." She touched the tender area around the gash and he winced.
"I must have fallen," he said. "I don't really remember. I got lost coming back. I was supposed to meet Michael back where the trail split."
"Don't worry about it now. We're going to be okay."
"I thought I was going to die," he said.
"You're damn lucky you didn't. It was just pure luck we spotted your tracks off the trail before we turned back," Bobby told him.
"He's right. I've seen hypothermia kill in a lot less time," Chris told him. She got out her first aid kit and began cleaning his wound. "Let me put a butterfly on this, then we need to get something warm in you." She felt his cheeks with both hands. "You're still too cold."