Avalanche
Jack and Gary leaned into the wind. Blowing snow pellets stung their faces and made small popping sounds as they hit their arctic suits. They were roped together; they wore crampons for traction, and used their ice axes to steady themselves. Even amid the storm, neither man wore his hat. The exertion heated them up, and at this altitude, sweating could be deadly. Jack was in the lead, and he had slowed his pace so that the line between them hung slack. A few times Gary had nearly stepped into a loop of the rope. Getting tangled in it could be the first mistake that would end their trip badly.
Gary talked to himself as he plodded along. “I wanted to go diving in Palau. It’s warm and sunny there, and the water isn’t solid. I’ll bet they have drinks with little umbrellas too. No, we had to come to some god-forsaken mountain range in Too Remote to Name, Canada to freeze our balls off and go snow blind. I need my head examined.”
He nearly bumped into Jack, who said, “Did you say something?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, it’s your turn to lead.”
As Gary turned to walk on, he felt the ground beneath his feet shake. He was behind a house-sized rock when the avalanche swept around him. He felt a slight tug on the safety line. When the slide had gone, the silence struck him. “Man, Jack, that was something, wasn’t it?”
No response. He pulled on the line and soon had the torn end in his hand.
“Jack!” Gary looked around, then down the mountain, hoping to see a glimmer of Jack’s bright blue snowsuit. Nothing. As if the thin oxygen wasn’t enough, the gravity of the situation pressed on Gary’s chest. Here he was at some ungodly altitude in a snowstorm, and the guy with the compass was just swept away in an avalanche. He stood in the shelter of the house-sized boulder, trying to decide if he should go on or turn back. Hours had passed since they’d left the last camp; they had to be close to the next one, right? Jack had planned the trek by himself. Gary was too disinterested to take part in the planning, and now there he was, stranded and alone. He had lobbied for a warm destination, a scuba diving destination, but Jack had overruled him, saying that diving off an island in the Pacific Ocean wasn’t very adventurous. What they needed to do was trek across a glacier in Canada. Gary had given in, and now Jack was dead. He had to be. No one could survive an avalanche.
Gary heard a faint cry. “Jack, where are you?” He squinted into the blowing snow, searching for the location of the sound. “Jack, keep yelling. I’ll find you.” Standing still had frozen his legs and arms, and the wind whipped his hair. Gary unstuck his feet and gingerly stepped down the slope toward the sound. Out of the whiteout, another huge boulder loomed. Gary’s steps sped toward it, hoping that Jack was sheltered behind it.
He was. Jack was a crumpled blue mound rapidly being covered with snow. “I’m hurt, Gary,” Jack said. “I think my leg’s broken.”
Gary stood gaping at him for a moment, then he crouched down by his friend. “I’ll get help.” He dug into Jack’s pack looking for the satellite phone he knew was in there. He found it, but when he turned it on, nothing happened. “Why won’t the damned thing work?” He hit it against his thigh, hoping to jar it into working. No luck. The phone screen remained black. No friendly red light to show it would allow him to summon help.
“I’m getting cold, Gary. Can you find my hat? And get out the space blanket.”
“What? Oh, yeah.” Gary slid the phone into his jacket pocket and rummaged in Jack’s pack for his wool beanie and the silver blanket that might help conserve his body heat. “Here you go.” He shoved the hat onto Jack’s head and draped the blanket around his shoulders, tucking it in around his friend. “The phone’s not working. I’m going to have to go for help. Give me the compass and I’ll hike to the next camp.”
Jack clutched the sleeve of Gary’s jacket. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll freeze to death. I don’t want to die alone.”
“Well, what do you suggest? Can you walk?”
“Probably not,” Jack said. “You could drag me on the blanket. It’s slippery. It’d slide right over the snow.”
That’s what they did. Gary tied the two space blankets together, rolled Jack onto one, and started across the snow field toward the next camp. Before long, his legs and back began to cramp, and he thought he’d have to stop. But he couldn’t stop; his friend would die. After what felt like miles and hours, a gray smudge in the snow fog grew until it coalesced into a weathered cabin nestled in the mountain’s cleft. “Jack, we made it,” Gary said.
No sound came from the snow-covered lump on the silver blanket. Gary shoved open the door of the cabin and dragged Jack inside. He brushed the snow off Jack and rolled him over. Ice-crusted eyelashes fluttered, and Jack groaned. “You did it, Gary. We made it.”
Gary built a fire in the stove with wood piled alongside. Soon warmth filled the tiny cabin, and they both thawed out. Gary helped Jack onto the bunk and covered him with the Hudson’s Bay blanket folded at the foot. Once he had his friend settled, Gary turned to the radio on the table. There was a sign stuck to the wall above it with operating instructions. It wasn’t long before he had contacted the rangers, who promised to start a rescue as soon as the storm abated.
“Did you hear that, Jack? They’ll be on their way just as soon as it stops snowing.”
No response. Gary’s heart nearly stopped, but he checked on Jack to find he was asleep. “Probably better than lying there in pain.” He searched the shelves and found protein bars and dried fruit. Nothing had ever tasted better. All night he kept the fire going. Gary and Jack talked when Jack woke up every hour or so. They talked about past adventures and promised they’d be less daring in the future. No more hiking in winter in the mountains; that was first on Gary’s list.
Dawn was just breaking when they heard a helicopter approaching. Soon rescuers were at the door. The Search and Rescue team members assessed Jack’s broken leg, splinted it, and strapped him into a basket to load onto the chopper. Gary limped along behind them, his back and legs tired from yesterday’s exertions.
In the helicopter, Gary sat next to Jack’s head and said as they took off, “Next year, scuba diving in Palau, right?”
Jack smiled. “Right.”
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That was a good read, Barbara!
Nice one!