Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Lincoln
It’s dark, but the flickering fire casts enough light for me to see Trinity staring me down. I raise my voice this time, trying to get through to the stubborn-as-shit woman I’ve been freezing my ass off with for the past sixteen hours.
“Put the goddamn boots on. I don’t have the energy to keep arguing with you.”
“No.” She stretches the word into three syllables this time like I’m too dense to comprehend it. “Then you won’t have any boots and you’ll get frostbite.”
“You might already have frostbite in those ridiculous boots of yours. Put the fucking boots on, Trinity.”
It’s late morning here, but it’s still dark. Trinity slept for a few hours, but I only dozed off for about ten minutes while sitting up. I’ve been pacing to try to generate body heat, but when Trinity told me a few minutes ago that she couldn’t feel her toes, I took my boots off and offered them to her. We’ve been engaged in a standoff ever since.
“We can’t stay here,” she says, catching me off guard.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, but for now, you need to put these boots on.”
She shakes her head, her expression mournful as she looks up at me from the ground.
I bend down so we’re at eye level and give her my most menacing glare. “I don’t want to wrestle you to the ground and put them on you, but I will if I have to.”
She holds my gaze, completely unfazed. “No, you won’t. Without those boots, you have nothing for your feet. At least I have something, even if these aren’t the greatest.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “Those aren’t enough for you if you can’t feel your toes.”
“We need to find shelter.”
“We can build one here. We have to stay near the plane. Otherwise there’s no way we’ll be found.”
She stands up, whimpering as she tries to bear weight on her left foot. Snowflakes are floating downward, dampening the fire so much I can barely make out the outline of her now.
“It’s too cold and wet,” she argues. “We can see if it’s safe to get back in the plane if you want to, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to have a fire there.”
I look at the ground. “No, I already checked it. There’s not much left and it could fall out of the tree any second.”
A few moments of silence pass before she continues. “Trained rescuers will be able to track us. It’s not that I want to go, but we have to. It’s too cold here. We have one good coat and one good pair of boots between us.”
“There’s no place to go,” I remind her. “The view out the plane windows was just trees and snow. And you can’t walk.”
It wasn’t just the cold that kept me up all night, staring forlornly into the fire. The seriousness of our situation settles deeper into my bones with every passing hour. I’m still hoping for rescue, but I can’t help my mind wandering to what will happen if they can’t find us.
I hear her sigh softly. “I know. But you know I’m right.”
She sniffles, probably an indication she’s crying. Fuck. I’m a leader, but I’m used to leading a bunch of male hockey players. I generally tell them to nut up. And we’re never in life-or-death situations.
It’s bitterly cold here, even though we’re sheltered from some of the wind. Trinity is right about the coat and boots situation, and the moving pad and emergency blankets just aren’t enough, either. My mind and body have slowed down a lot, and I’ve been telling myself it was just the lack of sleep and cold, but deep down, I know Trinity is right. Our survival plan can’t just be hoping help will arrive any minute.
The weight of my promise to Dalton sits heavily on my shoulders. What if we leave and then die looking for shelter? It feels like a lose-lose situation.
“We have to try,” Trinity says, her tone a mixture of fear and determination.
“Give me a little bit to think about it.”
“It’s not just up to you.”
I exhale heavily, wishing for just an hour of sleep. Just one hour to get my mind clearer. “Promise me you won’t leave without me. No matter what, we have to stay together.”
“I agree. But I won’t stay here and freeze to death just because you have a penis and I don’t.”
I snap at her, my patience eradicated by lack of food and sleep. “Fuck your feminism. We might freeze to death out there, too. I said I’ll think about it. Now we both need to eat something and try to get some blood moving.”
“I’ll eat something if you put your boots back on.”
I sit down and grab one of my boots, wishing I had the energy for a run to cool my frustration. “Eat or don’t eat, it’s up to you. I’m not playing your fucking games.”
“Because not wanting you to lose your feet to frostbite is a game to me.” She rolls her eyes.
I silently get both of my boots on, thinking about Dalton. He knows by now that we didn’t arrive in Minneapolis, and I’m sure he’s going crazy. My energy has to be spent taking care of his sister, not arguing with her.
At least we have the survival kit. I open it and take out two protein bars, passing one to Trinity. She takes it, still glowering at me.
The bar tastes like cardboard, but I still savor every crumb. I’m running through scenarios in my head, not liking any of them.
And making an already bad situation even worse, now my feet are wet. I can’t risk taking my boots and socks off to try to dry them and my feet over the fire because of the cold.
“Would we hear a plane if it was flying overhead?” Trinity seems to be over her mood. “Would they even look in the dark?”
“I don’t know if we’d hear it. I think they’d look, yeah.”
“Do you think we should be out in the open where we can see a plane if it flies overhead so we can shoot the flare gun?”
I scrub a hand down my face. “That makes sense, yeah. But it’s a lot colder out in the open.”
“Yeah.”
A few seconds of silence pass before I ask, “How are you feeling?”
She shrugs. “Worn down.”
“Are you sore?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to use any more of the medicine; we might need it later.” She smiles ruefully. “If bears bite our legs off, Tylenol can help with the pain, right?”
I exhale a single note of laughter. “Chris should’ve put a bottle of whiskey in that survival kit.”
Her expression turns serious. “If we’re going to look for shelter, we need to travel when there’s light.”
That’ll only last for around six hours. This is a decision we’re making together, but no matter what, I’m responsible for what happens to us. If anything happens to Trinity, it’ll be on me.
“Fucking Alaska. Our exhibition game was in Florida last year.”
She stands up, wincing as she brushes snow and dirt from her pants. “Eating that energy bar helped.”
“No offense, but I don’t think walking through the snow with a busted ankle will be any easier because you ate an energy bar.”
“I’d take an Uber if I could, but my phone was on the plane.” Her tone is light.
I reach into my pocket and take my phone out. “I’ve got mine, but it’s useless. No service.”
My pile of firewood has dwindled to almost nothing. I throw the last decent-sized log on the fire and say, “I need to go get more wood.”
“Lincoln. We can’t stay here.”
“We’re staying until the sun comes up. We need to get as warm as we can before we set off to find the nearest Hilton.”
She scoffs. “We might find a cave where we can get dry. Out of the wind.”
Or we might find nothing but miles of snow. I don’t say it because we both know it already. The thought of rescuers telling Dalton they found our frozen bodies in the middle of nowhere makes my chest ache.
“We’ll try,” I say cautiously. “But if it’s nothing but snow and wind, we might have to come back here.”
Even though it’s too dark for our eyes to meet, I can feel her looking at me across the fire. “If anything happens to me, tell my m--”
I cut her off. “No. There’s nothing to tell anyone because you’re going to be fine. This will end up being your best story at parties someday.”
“I hope so.” There’s a sad smile in her voice.
“Look, I know I haven’t been all that encouraging, but we have to stay positive. Help is on the way. We just need to be smart and stay hydrated and warm while we wait.”
“Right.”
“The survival kit has a pad of paper and pencil. I’m going to leave a note at the plane.”
Her voice is stronger as she says, “I’ll come with you.”
I wrap an arm around her to support her as she walks, only limping a little. Her boots are fucking ridiculous—probably some designer shit.
Can’t say I’m surprised. Dalton told me she works in the cosmetics industry. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get us both through this and then I’ll have a good party story, too. The time I survived a plane crash with Wilderness Barbie.