Chapter 43 Blizzards and Buttons
Blizzards and Buttons
Havoc
Creed pounds and pounds on the door after knocking got us no response.
“Are you sure she’s in there?”
“Her message said she was staying home. That was after it started snowing. I checked the security feeds and didn’t see a car go in or out.”
There isn’t a single sign of life visible from the door.
She left the blinds open in the front window.
The fireplace went out, probably hours ago.
There wasn’t an ember left glowing. “We’re going to have to break in.
Do you remember how to pick a lock?” I haven’t done it in years, but that isn’t a skill that you just forget.
“We don’t need to. She gave me the code that day the woman who shall not be named came.
She said if I were ever scared or uncomfortable, I could hide in her house.
Then she said something weird, like, look in the closet if I was terrified…
Do you think that’s where she keeps her guns? They don’t do a lot of good in there.”
Greer doesn’t seem like a gun person.
But then, what person gives the code for their house to your son to protect him while dating one of your friends behind your back?
None of this makes sense. She would have come to the door by now if she could have. “Open the door.”
Creed nods, then types the code in.
A green light flickers.
We’re in…
The heat isn’t on. It isn’t as cold inside as it is outside, but it’s below freezing.
“Greer!” Creed shouts.
There’s still an eerie silence. “Creed, you should wait outside.”
“Not going to happen. If she’s dead, I’ll handle it.”
Seeing a body leaves a mark on you. This one would be hard, but…it could be worse. Greer better not be dead. “Fine, but if you need to tap out—”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll go room by room together.” This way, I can be there just in case.
The living room is clear. The ashes aren’t even warm anymore. It’s been cold in here for a long time.
The dining room is clear.
With each room we go through, my stomach clenches tighter.
“Kitchen clear,” Creed says.
Off the formal dining room is a hallway that leads to three bedrooms and a bath. They’re probably empty, but since we’re already here, we split up.
“Clear,” Creed shouts
“Clear.” This one is used as an office…those papers are probably for the winter festival. I don’t even care if she stole from us at this point. She better be alive.
“Clear.”
“Clear.”
“There’s a hallway on the other side of the house.” Creed dashes off.
I want to run, but I don’t want to know what we’re going to find. We should have checked hours ago.
Why did I let my anger stop me from checking on another human being?
“DAD!” Creed’s voice sends a chill down my spine.
He stopped in front of French doors that lead off from a hallway. Is she dead in there?
A nursery.
This is a nursery. A soft, perfectly blue nursery.
“Baby?”
Creed shakes his head. “It’s empty.”
Did she lose a baby? Is she pregnant?
Is it Bram’s?
“Let’s keep looking.” I nod towards the hallway that leads to the master bedroom.
There’s a lump in the bed. A bed that’s covered in blankets. There are dozens of them. The fireplace in here is out as well, but the embers aren’t as cold.
She was smart…ish.
Smart would have been to walk over to my house and ask for help.
In a blizzard.
Without a snowsuit.
Unsure of what reception she was going to receive.
We should have invited her to stay with us.
We should have—
There’s time for regrets. First, see if she’s alive. I climb onto the bed and pull back the blankets. Her lips are blue. “Greer, wake up.”
No response.
Is she alive?
My fingers go to her throat to feel for a pulse.
A strong, steady beat makes the fist in my chest unclench. “She’s alive.”
“And pregnant.” Creed lifts up a framed ultrasound. “This is dated a couple of days ago.”
The day she went to the city. She went to check on the baby.
Bram’s baby.
“Dad, she’s really pregnant. Almost six months.”
That’s too long. “We need to get her out of here. Before we move her, go check the generator and see why it didn’t go on.”
“Will do.”
How am I going to get you over to my house to warm you up?
We packed an emergency blanket.
The lights flick on.
Creed rushes back in. “She pressed the button for the generator but forgot to flip over the circuit breaker.”
Greer tried to take care of herself. If I hadn’t been so rude...
You can’t think about that. “Let’s get her wrapped up and back to our house. It’ll take too long to get this one warm enough.”
We pull back a few of the blankets, only to find water bottles tucked next to her body.
They aren’t warm any longer, but she was smart. If she had some better equipment or it wasn’t this cold.
Later. That’s a worry for later. I take one blanket, then the emergency blanket, which traps heat, and wrap those around her. “Open the doors for me.”
“Got it.”
Walking through foot-deep snow while carrying another person isn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but I move faster than I probably should. We don’t have long to get her warm.
“Where are you going to put her?” Creed asks. “In your bed?”
Sure, why not. Life got weird already. Let’s make it weirder. “Yes. Remove all the pillows and blankets.”
“I remember.”
“Good. What’s next?”
“We take her clothes off to make sure nothing is wet. Then we put warm, but not hot, towels or blankets on the center of her body. I could put some towels in the dryer.”
“Perfect. Let’s get to it.”
“Dad, is she going to die?”
“Not if we can help it.” I pull the blankets off carefully. Nothing can be done quickly. I need to avoid damaging her skin. Three layers of clothes were a good idea, after it was cold. She put them all on while it was hot. Now they’re damp from sweat and actually making all of this worse.
If she lives through this, I’m going to teach her how to stay alive when it’s cold.
“The towels are in the dryer. I’ll grab the first one in just a minute or two. I got a thermometer.” Creed holds it out.
“Go ahead and take her temperature. While you do that, what are the next steps?”
“We keep her extremities uncovered. The heat from the house is enough to warm them at this point, because we don’t want cold blood from her fingers or toes rushing back to her heart and making her even colder.
We focus on her core. The key to her survival is to go slow.
Her temperature is ninety-one degrees. That’s not as dangerous, right? ”
“No. She isn’t critical, but with the baby…”
“Should we call Leech?”
“Phones are out. He might die trying to get here. The conditions aren’t safe to travel. As soon as it’s safe, we’ll get him here or her there.”
“Should she be awake? She isn’t that cold.”
“Greer went to sleep before she got cold, which also makes you sleepy. Her body just needs to get warm enough to wake her up.” I hope. I’m not a doctor…
***
“Dad!”
My eyes pop open. We’ve been swapping out her towels every five to ten minutes all night.
“Greer’s waking up. Her eyes are open.”
She’s alive. I kneel by the side of the bed. “How are you feeling? Can you talk?”
“Cold.” She starts shivering.
“Is that bad, Dad?”
No. “It’s very good. Her body is trying to regulate her temperature.” The fact that she can speak probably rules out brain damage. That still leaves a few organs that could have suffered damage, but she didn’t get that cool, so it’s unlikely.
“Cold,” her teeth click together as she speaks.
“Do you think you’re up to drinking some hot tea?”
A smile lights up her face. “Yes.”
I grab the thermal cup from next to the bed and help her into a sitting position. “Sip it slowly. It’s hot.”
Her hands tremble as she lifts it to her mouth. I keep a hand underneath it in case she loses her grip.
Watching the simple task of Greer drinking calms so many of the worries I’ve been carrying.
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“Your power went out,” Creed explains from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed facing her. “It got colder than the weather forecasted. You couldn’t get the generator on.”
“I kept pushing the button like Rothswyler showed me. It would light up, but nothing went on.”
“When nothing went on, why didn’t you come over here?” That question feels more like an accusation than an actual question, but it’s more on me than her.
“Because both of you were acting so weird. It was like you went from hot to cold in the flip of a switch, but Creed went too. I don’t know.
It seemed like suddenly you didn’t want anything to do with me.
So I just added a few logs into the fireplace and got into bed to wait it out.
The power was only supposed to be out for a few hours. ”
“It’s still out. According to the emergency weather station on the radio, the blizzard stalled out on top of us. Instead of two feet, we’re going to get four or five.”
“Five feet?” She lifts the cup to her mouth and drinks. “Has it stopped yet?”
“No, but it should soon. As soon as conditions clear up, we’ll get a doctor out here to check on you.”
“The baby! How is my baby?” One of Greer’s hands falls away from her cup and goes to her abdomen.
“We don’t know. You don’t have any signs of frostbite. And you didn’t get ‘that’ cold. The baby is probably fine. But we won’t know until Leech gets here.”
Tears fill her eyes.
They make me want to risk these conditions to find out for her, but the best thing I can do is what I’ve been doing.
A bell chimes quietly on Creed’s phone. “Time for a new towel.” He hops off the bed and dashes out of the room.
“Why don’t I have clothes on?” she whispers.
“It’s safer to warm you up without them.
Yours were covered with sweat, and a warm towel on the center of your body helps to get you warmer faster.
” I reach over for the thermometer and swipe it across her head.
“You’re up to ninety-seven. We can probably put a light blanket on you, but you need to tell me if you feel at all sweaty.
” There are several blankets waiting on the foot of the bed for when she’s ready for them.
Gently, I place the blanket over her and kneel back down.
“Here’s your towel.” Creed hops up and folds himself up as he sits back across from her.
“Let me do it. We don’t want your hands to get too warm yet.” With my eyes averted, I removed the old towel and replace it with the new one before recovering her.
“Mmmm. That feels so good. Thank you. Both of you for taking such good care of me.”
Creed nods. “Greer, why didn’t you tell us about the baby?”
Subtle. Really subtle.
Though that isn’t really Creed’s thing. Or mine.
She shrugs. “I thought about it a dozen times. And every time, nothing came out. I’ve had a hard time believing he exists myself. How do I explain him to others when I can’t always do it to myself?”
Creed reaches out and takes her hand. I wish I could do the same, but Greer isn’t mine. And pretending she is would only hurt more.
“You could have trusted us.”
She glances down at the blanket and my hand sitting there inches from hers. “Was I imagining things? Or were you two acting weird all weekend?”
Creed looks at me. I guess it’s time to have that conversation. “We saw you.”