Chapter 3 #2
They’ve spent most of their time so far squished together in the blanket fort, aside from blistering cold bathroom breaks, so when she steps out again only to get a blast of wind to the face, she mourns the loss of all that body heat he offered.
There’s been no sign of rescue yet. She assumed they’d be here by now.
The sky is empty except for a few birds, and the landscape is just as desolate as before.
They work together to drag their boots through the snow in a painstaking effort to write for help, knowing the plane itself is attention-getting enough but needing to do something anyway.
It could be worse. The snow could be solid instead of fresh powder.
That doesn’t make it any warmer. By the time they’re finished, she can hardly feel her fingers or toes.
She’s about to suggest they get back inside, but he’s not looking at her, he’s frozen in place, staring off in the distance at something over a small ridge.
“Look. Do you see them? Move slow.”
For a moment, she’s excited with thoughts of a rescue, but then the wolf pack trotting across the snow catches her eye. They’re nothing but pinpoints of dark fur, too far away to pose any danger, but her blood still runs even colder.
“We need to move the bodies,” he scowls.
She cuts him a glare like he can’t be serious. Nora hasn’t enjoyed spending nearly a day within semi-close proximity to dead people, but the idea of disturbing the remains when they can’t even bury them is somehow worse.
“I know,” he continues. “I know. But they’ll attract those wolves and maybe something else.”
She chooses to ignore what something else could be. “It’s so cold. They won’t…rot unless it’s warm, right?”
“Right, and the wolves were probably tracking game, but it won’t be long before they check this wreck out. We don’t want to be within five plane rows of dinner if we can help it.”
He has a point there. Wildlife is going to investigate one way or another. She just assumed they’d both be gone by then, in a heated hotel with running water, before that ever became an issue.
“I’ll handle it,” he says, softly. “Go on back in, won’t take long.”
“I’m not letting you do that alone.”
“You don’t have to help. You don’t.”
Normally, she’d bristle at anyone telling her what she can and can’t do. Has far too much experience with that to fall backward again, but his plea is gentle and worried, like he wants to spare her from having to do this awful thing.
That only makes her want to share the burden of it even more, so she ignores the sting in her stomach and straightens up. “We’ll do it together.”
He doesn’t fight her on it again.
They move three bodies from the cabin out into the snow. Far enough that anything sniffing around won’t be right on top of them.
“Do you think anyone else survived?” she asks, once they’re snug in their blanket shelter again. “Wherever the rest of the plane ended up?”
“We made it. So, maybe. I hope so.”
“Me too. How far do you think we are from civilization?”
“Been thinking about that. Trying to do the math based on when we finished the movie and how long until the crash.”
“And?” she says, hopefully.
“And so far, somewhere between Juno, Barrow, and the Arctic Circle sounds about right. I’m pretty sure I didn’t see anything but snow when I was looking out the window for a while before it happened.”
She frowns. “That’s not encouraging.”
“Nope.”
“Why the fuck did they want to elope so far out? There are perfectly good mountains in the more populated areas.”
“Oh, I’m sure that was Oliver’s idea. He’s got a thing about being different.
Finding the most unique places to visit.
Hiking the tallest mountains. He wanted to attempt Everest like an idiot before I talked him out of it.
If there’s an epic view out there, and some company willing to guide them to it, it won’t matter to him how hard it is to reach. ”
Her nose wrinkles. “Keep saying things like that and I’ll really dislike your brother before I even meet him.”
Theo snorts. “Filter everything I say through the lens of siblings who don’t get along much. He’ll be good to your friend. If he loves her, and it sounds like he does, then he’ll treat her right. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah. That is what matters. Anyway, don’t be so quick to place blame on him for this idea. Gwen was already talking about moving here permanently for work before she ever got engaged, so she might have been the one to drag him up north.”
“What the hell does she do for work out here?”
“She does research on the melting ice. Something about bacteria and whatnot. You know, science things.”
“Oh. Alright, we blame them both.”
“So long as we stay with the plane, we’ll be fine,” she replies, leading them toward more pressing matters.
“Going out there and trying to hike for a town is how people end up dead in every movie I’ve ever seen about being stranded and lost. Sort of like running up the stairs instead of out the front door in horror movies. ”
“We’ll stay with the plane. It’s even less safe out there than it is in here.” He slips off the gloves he pilfered from someone’s bag, blowing on his fingers with a wince near little blisters forming at the cracks in his knuckles.
“Theo! Why didn’t you say something? Let me see.”
She reaches for him without thinking, horrified that he’s been nursing nearly frost-bitten fingers alone without saying a word.
Doesn’t have a clue what she plans to do about it, but the chance to find out is snatched away when he nearly topples the blankets out of place to get away from her, pushing his back up against the seat as far as he can go, as if she might grab the parts that hurt and twist them to make it worse.
It’s a split-second reaction that has him looking guilty a moment later, but it’s enough to remind her that she’s in a small space with a man she doesn’t know.
Someone who could so easily hurt her if he wanted to.
He may be afraid of her right now, but the fear that hadn’t made a blip on her radar since she met him is suddenly loud and clear for her, too.
She let herself get too comfortable. He tended to her wounds, they shared a couple of stories from their pasts, and he has a sweet, bashful smile, but that doesn’t mean they know each other.
It absolutely doesn’t mean that they trust each other.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, trying and failing to move away a little more to give her some space.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have reached for you like that. I wasn’t thinking. We should make a fire to warm up better. I don’t know much about living in these conditions, but that doesn’t look good.”
“It won’t stay lit out there with the wind blowing like that. I’ll be fine. It looks worse than it is. Not frostbitten yet. How’s yours?”
“I’m okay.”
“Toes too?”
She nods.
He puffs long exhales onto his fingers, before tucking them in against his chest. “Are you sure? Don’t be like me and not say something.”
“I’m sure.” She lets their small enclosure go quiet for a while.
It gives her racing heart time to calm itself with nothing but the sound of their rustling and the sight of frozen breath to occupy them, until the awkwardness gets to her and she tries to lighten the mood.
“Are you up for another round of crossword puzzles where I win?”
“I won last time.”
“You did not.”
“You’re such a sore loser. I win one round, and you can’t accept it.” He’s got a tentative, amused grin on his face while digging around for the crossword book, handing it to her in a challenge. “I’ll win this one, too.”
“We’ll see about that. And for the record, I’d have to lose to be a sore loser.”
She’s not sly about what she’s doing, but maybe he’d been just as desperate for a way to move past what happened as she was, because he doesn’t seem to care that her attempt at humor is obvious and slightly exaggerated.
It’s easier to focus on this than how fucking cold it is. How worried she is that no one will find them, or that the wolves will get here before a rescue team does.
For now, they pretend they aren’t stranded and avoid their problems with stupid questions in a book for the second day in a row.
This time, he wins. She offers a careful high five meant to be an olive branch and smiles when he takes it.
* * *
Later, when the sun drops below the horizon and the chill seeps so far into her bones that she can’t resist scooting just a little closer, they hear the telltale sounds of howling.
Or maybe it’s growling.
Or maybe…it’s a voice.
“Is someone out there talking?” She sits upright, staring a hole through the plane to where those bodies were laid to rest.
He frowns. “Can’t be.”
It isn’t words she hears, but an unintelligible grumble.
She’s about to suggest they go double-check just in case someone actually survived and all those pulse checks were false negatives, but another sound erupts in the distance.
There’s no question that it’s coming from the wolves they saw earlier.
Nora holds her breath in her lungs when the next howl makes them both jump.
It’s nothing compared to the fight that erupts between the pack of wolves when they discover what’s left of the crash victims.
They don’t speak a word. They don’t make a move. She slams her eyes closed and tries to ignore every wimper and growl, every snarl that breaks out into a battle.
The sounds are vivid in the dark, like they’re echoing through her skull instead of the snowy landscape. She can picture the twisted limbs and blood frozen in patterns across the snow like a canvas.
Somewhere near the battered hull of their shelter, something thumps. It’s a heavy sound close enough that the metal creaks in protest. She wonders if wolves can smell fear through aluminum. Wonders if the scent of her dread is stronger than the death outside.
Each time the wind shifts, it carries something new. A crunch. A yelp. Another sickening tear. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying, tasting the copper flood her mouth, feeling each second stretch again and again until she’s certain it’ll never end.
By the time the wolves leave, she’s got her face buried in Theo’s shoulder and doesn’t have a clue how it happened, but if he’s bothered, she’d never know.
He’s stoic and silent, letting her lean on him while nature runs its course outside.
There’s no trace of his earlier hesitation at being touched, and she files that information away for later, assuming it must have been the suddenness of her movements before that spooked him.
His arm finds its way around her at some point. She doesn’t remember when it moved, only that the warmth of him is the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Her fingers are stiff, curled tight in the hem of his sleeve, but he doesn’t flinch or pull away.
Outside, the silence settles again, but it’s not peaceful. It’s the kind of quiet that feels suffocating. She doesn’t lift her head. Doesn’t look. The smell lingers long enough to tell her that would be a bad idea.
In the back of her mind, a single thought repeats on a loop.
This is only the second day.