13. Toren
Toren
While Lana was gone, I rolled a few small boulders toward the fire and stacked several flat rocks on top to create a bit of a counter. Once I was satisfied with the surface, I moved the sausage and egg pot onto it. It kept the food out of the flames, but close enough to keep it warm.
Turning, I put my bad foot down. A quick grunt of pain escaped. I really needed to stop doing that. The problem was it didn’t hurt unless I put weight on it, and I kept forgetting.
Grimacing, I leaned into the walking stick as I moved to gather what I needed to make biscuits.
This was stupid. I should be the one wandering through the snowy forest, looking for dry firewood.
Not that I thought Lana should be the one cooking since she was a woman. I just didn’t like the idea of her having to slug through the snow, hauling heavy firewood. On a normal day, I wouldn’t even break a sweat doing it.
Annoyed at myself all over again for my stupidity yesterday, I tossed my stick down in disgust as I sank to the ground near the fire after retrieving the biscuit ingredients.
Scowling at the bag of biscuit mix, I put a small cast-iron pan on the fire, then added water to it and zipped it shut, before kneading it through the plastic.
After I had it mixed up, I took a little butter from the jar I packed and plopped it onto the pan I had heating on the fire.
Once that melted, I cut one corner off the bag with my knife and squeezed some of the batter through the hole onto the pan.
It sizzled, butter bubbling up around the edges of the batter.
I made a handful of biscuits before scuffling outside and a soft, feminine curse carried into the shelter on the wind.
Flipping the last biscuit, I glanced up as Lana appeared in the cave’s entrance.
“You will not believe what I found.”
“Oh? What did you find?”
She marched over to the stack of firewood and dropped the poles, then turned to me, pulling a hank of rope off her shoulder. “So, I decided to check the ground around the camp before I came back for anything we could use. I found this”—she shook the rope—“but I also found their firepit.”
I frowned, scanning her person. She didn’t have any more wood on her. Before I could ask any questions, she continued.
“There was very little snow on it. I don’t think the camp was abandoned until sometime early this morning.”
My gaze sharpened, and I automatically looked past her into the woods. “Did you see anyone?”
She shook her head as she walked over to me.
“No. And no signs of anyone walking through the snow, either. I think they probably left right before the snow started. Where they went, however, I have no idea.” She sank to the ground and tugged off her gloves.
“Trust me, though. My head was on a swivel after that discovery. If they followed me, well, they’re an expert at tracking, because I didn’t see or hear anyone. ”
That wasn’t the only way someone could follow her. “Did you cover your tracks?”
She froze, then her shoulders fell. “No.” She sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about it. And honestly, I’m not sure how I could have, anyway. I dragged those poles back, so they left deep gouges in the snow.”
Once more, I eyed the forest beyond our shelter. “We’ll just need to stay vigilant. Maybe set up an early detection system or something?”
“Early detection? With what?”
I lifted a corner of the biscuit to check the bottom.
It was done. Carefully, I pulled it off the fire and onto the plate with the others.
“We can rig a few saplings to spring up and let some rocks or logs loose. The sound of them falling would give us enough warning to be prepared for an intruder.” We should have done that already, anyway.
I’d been too tired and in too much pain last night to think straight, though.
“You’ll have to show me how.”
I nodded once. “We’ll work on it after we eat. Take off that wet coat and get your utensils.”
While she did that, I split the food between us.
The food didn’t last long. In minutes, we’d polished off our plates. I could have eaten another helping, but we needed to ration what we had, just in case we were here longer than planned.
“Thank you for breakfast.” Lana stood, plate in hand.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll do the dishes.” She pointed to my plate, then held out her hand.
“Oh.” I handed it over. “Thank you.”
“You cooked. I’ll clean.” Flashing a quick smile, she walked out of the shelter to scrub the food remnants off with a handful of snow.
Pushing to my feet, I grabbed my stick and hobbled over to my backpack for the satellite phone. I wanted to check in with Walker.
Powering up the device, I punched in his number as Lana returned.
“Who are you calling?” She held out my plate and utensils.
“Walker.” Putting the phone on speaker, I took my dishes and put them in my pack as the phone rang.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” Walker’s cheery voice rang through the camp.
“Snowy. But we’re warm and safe.” A quick smile danced over my face.
“Good, good. The whole area is still socked in. You two are going to need to sit tight another day or so.”
I huffed a short breath and closed my eyes. Wonderful. “Okay. Is there a timeline on when this crap leaves?” I glanced down at Lana, who stood beside me, a small frown between her eyes.
“Tonight,” Walker responded. “It’s supposed to break up later this afternoon and move on by eight or nine o’clock. Once they get the runway clear, I’ll go up and scout for a suitable landing site. Then, we can make a plan to get to you two and get you out of the bush.”
That sounded like it would be two days until we even had a chance of getting out of here.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Okay.”
“How are your injuries doing?” Walker asked.
“They’re fine. I can get around.” If I had to crawl and drag myself to the pick-up spot, I would.
“With a stick,” Lana chimed in.
I turned to look at her with a deep frown. She didn’t need to point that out. The last thing I wanted was for Walker to call in the Coast Guard.
She ignored my dark look and kept talking.
“Try to get as close to us as you can,” she said. “We can build a splint around his foot, but he still probably shouldn’t walk too far on it. The colors are… pretty.” She cast a quick look at me, an upward tilt to her pretty lips.
“Ignore her,” I said. “I can walk. It just might take me a while.”
Walker chuckled. “I’ll get as close as I can. If anything changes with you two, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll talk to you in the morning. About eight a.m.”
“Sounds good.” I bade Walker farewell, then hung up and powered down the phone.
Lana sighed and sat down. “Looks like we’re going to get good use out of that card deck.”
I barked a short laugh. “Yeah. First, though, we’re going to set up that early detection system.”
“Oh, right. I almost forgot. What do we need?” A furrow formed on her forehead, and she glanced down at our packs.
“Rope, knife, axe.” I ticked the things off on my fingers.
Since she was closest to the gear, she dug through the bags and handed me the items. Once we had everything and had donned our outer gear, I slung the rope over one shoulder and across my chest. Lana took the axe, and we wandered out of our little sheltered alcove.
“How far do you want to go?” She paused a few feet beyond the cave entrance and looked out at the forest, her eyes scanning the trees.
“Not too far. I want it to wake us up if we’re asleep.” I hobbled away about twenty feet to a group of saplings. “This should work.”
For the next couple of hours, Lana and I rigged three spring-loaded sapling traps around the perimeter of our shelter, one on each side and one straight up the middle.
She did most of the collecting of wood and rocks and the rope tying, while I held saplings down and laid piles of debris in the traps.
Did I like her doing most of the heavy lifting?
No. But I was wise enough to know that if I wanted to walk out of here in two days to meet the plane, I needed to take it easy on my ankle.
“Do you think this is enough? Should we add one more trap?” Lana looked up from where she bent down, tying the last knot. With the rope she found, we had enough to stretch the tripwire the entire length of the semi-circle.
“I think we’re good. The tripwire is connected all the way around, and we hid it well enough.
I doubt anyone is getting through without us knowing.
The traps are more about the sound than stopping anyone.
The rope trigger is what matters, and we surrounded ourselves.
Unless they come over the top and lower themselves down, we should be okay. ” Hopefully.
I looked back at our shelter, which was little more than a shallow cave in the side of a twenty-foot cliff.
“Okay. Let’s head back inside, then. My hands are like popsicles.”
Hobbling on my makeshift crutch, I trailed behind her. Back in the shelter, I tossed the stick down and sank onto a rock near the fire to warm up.
My gaze tracked through the trees, looking for any sign of someone out there, watching.
Nothing. Just snow drifting through the branches and the occasional howl of the wind.
I hated this. Sitting. Waiting. Knowing there was at least one person out there who knew this forest better than I did, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it except make a few sound triggers.
Lana, who’d dug into her pack, looking for something, glanced over as she shoved everything back in. A slight frown marred her face. “You’re scowling at the tree line.”
“I’m aware.”
“Why are you scowling at the tree line? Is there someone out there?” She rose, hurrying over to where I sat to look for herself.
“No. I’m just… watching.”
“Oh.” She sank down beside me and looped her arms over her knees, staring out at the forest with me now. “This is duller than watching paint dry.”
I chuckled. “It is. But there’s not really much else to do.” My words were meant to be light and calm, but the growl of frustration in my voice told another story.