Chapter 6
Six
“WE NEED SHELTER FAST,” Jayce hollered against the rising wind. “A cave? We could build a fire, get out of the snow.”
“Let me get my bearings,” Joel yelled back. He needed to think despite the numbness spreading through him—blood being siphoned from his extremities in an effort to protect the heart.
A cave wasn’t a bad idea, but there was something else on the cusp of his brain—a whisper not defined but insistent.
He shook out his free hand, trying to wake it up, get the blood flowing before hypothermia shifted to frostbite.
Help us, Lord. Direct us. We cannot see, but You can see as bright as day.
He exhaled, his breath a white vapor among the white surrounding them.
There was no way to make it back to the main lodge, the avalanche had seen to that, cutting out any pass to it.
Except, perhaps, the top rim, but with the risk of falling, that was suicide.
They’d have to wait to be rescued before they could make it back to the lodge.
The same low whisper resonated in his ears.
This time clear as a bell. Lodge. “That’s it! ” Thank You, Jesus.
“What’s it?” Jayce asked, despondence edging his tone.
“The old lodge.”
“Didn’t they tear it down?” Iz asked, huddling against Talbot, his arm draped around her shoulders.
“Not yet. I talked to Stan recently.” His dad’s best friend and fourth-generation-owner of Cedar Loft.
“Okay.” Jayce coughed, raw and deep.
“He said he didn’t have the heart to tear the old lodge down.
” His great-grandfather built it, and Stan wanted to fix it up someday.
But they didn’t need to hear all that. Only the news of refuge.
Ice pellets bounced off his back. “If I have my bearings right . . .” Come on, Boy Scouts, don’t fail me now. “It should be due west.”
“And how far?” Iz asked, her voice quivering, her teeth chattering.
He swallowed. He’d hoped to keep that part to himself.
“Bro?” Iz said, more insistent.
“Let’s just say due west.” He held her gaze, well, the outline of her body in the bluster of the fierce storm.
Wind howled, the only sound surrounding their party in the burgeoning whiteout. “Let the group know where we’re headed and to pull in ranks. Losing someone’s far too easy in these conditions.”
“I’ll let them know,” Talbot said, hitching his step. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed Iz’s cheek, or so it looked through a world drenched in white.
Five minutes later, Talbot back at Iz’s side, Heath led the way with his flashlight swathing across the shower of snow.
The light faded within feet, succumbing to the darkness.
Every so often, Heath turned, swiping the flashlight across their party to make sure everyone was still with them.
Mia hung at the back, Amy trying to yank her forward, pushing to her to keep going.
Heath shifted, and the light bounced off Cassie’s ghost-white face. Frostbite. Increasing his strides, Joel hurried the pace, adrenaline burning his thighs.
“Slow down!” Amy yelled. “Mia’s struggling.”
“We can’t slow down.” He’d leave it at that. Elaborating on the alternative would only cause panic.
“I’ll help her,” Scott said, falling back.
Brady shifted his hand on his corner of the gurney, repositioning his hold. “Seriously, how far to this lodge?”
Joel glanced over his shoulder at the group stumbling through the snow behind him, snow too thick to make out faces beyond arm’s length. “A quarter of a mile.”
Brady’s shoulders drooped.
“We can make it,” Joel hollered, hoping his voice would carry on the rushing wind. “Keep moving!”
He shifted his thoughts off their situation and on to the lodge of his childhood summers and holidays—the best memories warming him. He’d always wanted to bring Cassie to the old lodge but never under these circumstances.
She shivered beneath the coats draped over her, her heading bobbing to one side.
Faster. Move faster. Battling the painful numbness threatening to consume him, he strove to raise his legs higher with each step, plowing through the snow, now crusting with a layer of ice.
Everything in him ached to lie down and rest his eyes.
He shook his head. Keep moving. Keep moving.
Maybe if he repeated it enough, his exhausted body would heed his direction. His leg hovering above the snow, he teetered—the gurney wobbling in his hand.
“Whoa!” Jayce said.
“Sorry.” He stabilized. “I’ve got it.” No. You. Don’t. He swallowed, his throat raw and closing in. Father, I can’t do this without You. They are all looking to me. Please equip me to lead them to safety. Lead the way.
They had to keep moving. Otherwise, they’d fall asleep and never wake up—at least not on this side of heaven.
“He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
Joel tightened his grip on the gurney, his fortitude strengthened.
Cries sounded on the howling, blustering wind.
Mia.
Had she fallen? Surely Scott would get her through. His cousin, having spent holidays with them at the lodge, was familiar with the distance left. He could spur Mia on, if she wasn’t too far gone.
It wasn’t the same lively lodge they remembered—the one bustling with people. It’d been abandoned for years. Who knew what condition they’d find it in? Or what supplies might be there. But the old lodge was their only option.
“H-how . . . ?” Iz stuttered. “M-much . . . longer?”
“Not much,” he hollered back, hoping his voice would carry on the wind.
They plowed rather than stepped through the snow—striving against its full, wet weight, exhaustion and frostbite threatening to grip hold.
Please, Father.
Desperation clawed at him.
You can’t make it. You’ll fail them all. The taunts slipped in his ears in a haunting whisper.
He shook his head and ignored the lies . . . or perhaps the truth.
Shapes took form ahead. Were those . . . ?
“The tree line,” he yelled, gratitude welling in his chest.
“What tree line?” Lyle yelled.
“That tree line.” Joel pointed his hand, unable to get his fingers to respond. “The lodge sits on the other side and down the slope.”
“Finally,” Heath grunted.
Everyone’s steps were invigorated with the news. Cutting a swath through the wooded trail, they moved swiftly through the narrow forest, the snow thin on the pine needle–covered ground. Relief filled him. Nearly there.
Something shifted to his right. A dark shadow in the white world surrounding them.
Joel halted, his body tensing. What was that? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He prayed so, but his gut shouted otherwise.
“What’s up?” Brady asked, tugging the gurney forward.
Joel pulled back.
Movement fluttered to his three o’clock—fast and fleet. He stiffened, his frozen limbs hardening. Was it a mountain lion?
The rest of their party continued to move.
“Still!” he hollered, and they all fumbled to a halt after gathering around.
Talbot and Iz hitched up beside him.
The shadow slunk through the woods.
Not the way a lion moved, more like a . . . wolf.
“What is it?” Nat asked, huffing. Bending at the waist, she braced her hands on her knees.
“Wolves.” Heath’s voice heightened a pitch.
“It’s one wolf,” Jayce said. “Don’t scare everyone.”
“One can still do a lot of damage. If he pins you down, he can rip you apart,” Devon said. “I saw it at a crime scene once. Nasty.”
Kendra, always the quiet one of their friend group, whimpered at their side—the full crew a circle amid the tall trees. “Did you say rip apart?”
“I’m afraid so.” Devon squared his shoulders.
Dude. Shut up. “It’ll be fine.” Joel kept his voice level. “We move for the lodge, nice and easy. Solid steps, people.” He pinned his gaze on his younger brother. “Jayce, grab the shovel from your pack.”
Jayce nodded, snow and ice pellets shaking off his hood.
“Lyle, take his place on the gurney.”
Jayce faced the wolf, his shovel tight at his side. “Go. I’ll hold it at bay.”
Joel froze. A second shadow at their six.
Heath’s flashlight followed its movement, the light bouncing off a pair of yellow eyes.
Heath let an expletive slip. “I told you there were wolves. They stay in packs.”
And normally don’t attack unless provoked.
“Okay, guys,” Joel rushed out. “We move for the lodge. It sits at the bottom of this ridge. Watch your balance, and whatever you do, don’t run. That might engage them.”
But . . . what was he missing? He studied the outlines of the animals in the snow. They were poised, pawing the ground, encroaching, but why? “We need someone on our six.”
Mia’s cries echoed through the hollow below.
“I’ll go,” Devon said.
“I’ll take the gurney if someone can help Mia,” Scott said.
“I’ve got her,” Nat said, shifting to Mia’s side and hefting her up against her. “We’ve got this, girl.”
Devon pulled the shovel from his pack and strode with purpose to their rear, positioning himself at the edge of the forest between them and the second wolf.
Joel studied where they’d forge a path ahead. He squinted. “Heath, shine your light due west about a hundred yards ahead.”
He did so, and the light swept across the abandoned lodge, standing tall in the frozen world.
“The lodge,” Heath said, his voice for once upbeat.
Good. They needed spirits lifted. Next to Cassie, Joel feared most for Mia’s safety and mood at this point, but they had to press on.
Heath swept the light back to them, revealing the steep slope standing between them and safety.
“All right. Sure, purposeful steps,” Joel instructed.
“What about the wolf?” Savannah asked, her voice quivering.
His young cousin had been so quiet, he’d nearly forgotten she was there. Only sixteen—this had to be so terrifying.
“We’re covered,” he assured them, trusting Jayce and Devon to hold the line.