Chapter Two
Whit opened her eyes. Fat drops of rain smacked the rocks around her and she could smell nothing but burning oil and fuel.
A wall of heat pushed into her from behind.
She focused and remembered Junior. Though she was sure he was dead, it still unsettled her to think of him burning in the vehicle.
But there was nothing she could do to get him out.
Bile rose to her throat and she shoved herself up and half walked, half crawled toward Abby, who lay just ahead of her in a limp, uncomfortable-looking heap.
Whit knelt with a hand to her shoulder. “You okay?”
Please don’t let her be dead.
“Abby?” She shook her. She didn’t see any life-threatening wounds. “Abby?”
“Mm?” She turned her head and looked at her with misty green eyes, her cheek marred with dirt.
“Come on, we need to move.” They didn’t have time to waste.
They were in a ravine. One that was quickly filling with water.
Whit straightened and looked back at the burning vehicle, searching for anything she could salvage.
To her amazement she saw that the back hatch was open, and a nylon bag had been thrown onto the creek bed.
She hurried as best she could to gather it, careful not to get too close to the heat of the flames.
Then she crossed back to Abby who was attempting to sit up.
“Junior,” Abby said. Whit gripped her elbow and helped her stand.
“He’s gone.”
“But—”
“There’s nothing we can do for him.”
Abby stumbled and winced. She grabbed her knee.
“You hurt?” Whit asked.
“A little.”
“Can you walk?”
“Probably not well.” She palmed her head. “God, I feel dizzy. And sick.” She bent and retched but nothing came up.
Whit gave her a quick once-over. Her knee was most likely strained, and she was covered in minor scrapes and bruises. They both were. But that they could handle.
“Come on.” She edged her to the side of the ravine. “This creek bed is going to flood. We need to find a way out.”
“Doesn’t look like there is one.”
A loud bang came from the burning Bronco as it blew again.
They crouched in defense and saw more flames.
And there, at the top of the ledge, they saw an SUV, sitting with its engine idling.
Whit waved her arms and screamed, “Down here! Help!” But to her shock and amazement, the vehicle reversed and drove away.
“Why is he leaving?” Abby asked, sounding panicked.
“I don’t know.”
“Is he going for help?”
“Probably.” But she wasn’t so sure. Why hadn’t the driver at least signaled that he’d seen them? Whatever the reason, she had other things to focus on at the moment, like getting her and Abby someplace where they could warm up.
She hurried them along with Abby limping. The rain was cold and a nuisance. By the time they found a way out of the ravine, they were nearly soaked through.
“Through here,” Whit said, leading them up an incline.
“Shouldn’t we go back to the other side? You know, back to the road? Toward that other car?”
“There’s not a way out of the ravine on that side. Not anywhere close anyway.” That side of the ravine was steeper and more hazardous looking. There was no way they could climb out. And right now, they needed a quick way out to avoid the imminent flood.
Whit gripped Abby’s elbow again and encouraged her to walk faster.
“What’s the rush? We’re out of immediate danger.” She was wincing with every step, and though Whit felt for her, she needed her to hurry along.
“We need shelter. And a fire.”
“I can’t go any faster.”
“We have to get out of the rain and out of these clothes before hypothermia sets in.”
“Hypothermia?” She seemed alarmed.
“The temperature will continue to drop the closer we get to sunset. It will be freezing tonight, if not colder.”
Abby swallowed and then nodded as if she understood. She took bigger steps, cried out, but kept going. “How far?”
“Just up here to this tree line.” They continued through the brush until they came to a large cluster of trees.
They stepped into their cover and Whit could smell the strong scent of pine and wet earth.
“Here is good.” There were plenty of dead trees nearby and one had fallen and nestled into a forked stump, making a good base for a shelter.
Abby sighed as if relieved. She was trembling and the sight caused Whit’s insides to clench in fear as memories from long ago infiltrated. She forced back her fear and eased Abby down beneath the large, forked tree. “Sit here while I work.”
“I should help.”
“No. Just stay there.”
“But how are you going to do anything? We have nothing.”
Whit knelt and lifted the bag. “We have this.” She pulled her buck knife out of the sheath she wore on her ankle. “And this.” She held it up for Abby to examine. “I carry it everywhere.” She had. Since she was twelve and had encountered a man named Otter.
She slid the knife back into its sheath and dug through the bag, which must have belonged to Junior.
She rummaged through it and found a pot with a lid, a tin cup, several cans of Spam, a box of pilot bread, a single water bottle with a filter, an all-purpose knife, a compass, a fire starting kit, and some instant coffee.
It wasn’t his pilot survival kit, which all pilots in Alaska were required to carry, but it would do.
Knowing Junior, he probably had more survival gear in the Bronco, but it had most likely burned up in the crash and the subsequent explosion.
She showed the contents to Abby, who scowled at the Spam, and then left her to get to work. She, too, had begun to shiver, her clothes cold and sticking to her. She brought some dry branches, ones she’d found and planned to use as firewood, over to a pile she made near Abby.
Whit then got busy clearing a place for a fire.
She managed to find some heavy stones and she stacked them in a half circle to make a wall for the heat to reflect off of.
That would hopefully keep the heat close to them as they slept.
Then she piled up some of the dead wood, pulled her own fire starting tin out of her back pocket and opened it up to retrieve her ferro rod and fire plugs.
“What’s that?” Abby asked softly.
“Fire starting kit.”
“You carry one around?”
“Old habit.” One her father taught her. Plus, as a bush pilot, and flying into very remote areas, she felt more comfortable having it on her body, along with her buck knife.
Abby pointed. “What are those pink things?”
“Fire plugs. Kindling basically.”
Whit angled her ferro rod toward the pile of dead wood and single fire plug and then scraped her knife along the shaft of the rod producing a showering of sparks.
The fire plug caught almost immediately, and Whit blew on it to encourage it to grow, placing more of the dead brush and wood closer to it.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Burn, you bastard.” She blew some more and the fire caught, igniting the brush and then some of the smaller twigs.
The fire grew and soon she was able to sit back on her haunches and hold her hands out for the heat.
Smoke billowed out from the flames, lots of smoke due to the damp, but at least it was a fire.
She eased all the way back and patted the ground next to her for Abby to join her.
“You sure?” Abby said, tentative.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
She shrugged out of her jacket and began to untie her boots. “We need to strip down and get warm ASAP.”
“You mean take off our clothes?”
“Yep.”
“In front of each other?”
“You got a better idea?”
“Well, no.”
“Then I suggest you get to it. Before you get into real trouble with hypothermia.”
Whit took off her shoes and socks and liners, and then stood and peeled off her sweater and T-shirt. She then pushed down her pants and got up to place all of her clothes along another fallen log near the fire. She stood there looking at Abby in nothing but her bra and panties.
Abby blinked at her again and she swore she saw her blush just before she glanced away. Was she really that shy? Or was something else going on?
“Do you want me to turn away while you undress?” Whit asked.
“What? No. Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” She stood and began to undress.
Whit made herself busy tending to the fire.
She was already starting to warm up just by being out of her wet clothes.
And soon Abby was nearly nude just like her, in her bra and panties, kneeling by the fire, warming her body.
Whit made a point not to stare, but it was difficult.
Abby was an incredibly beautiful woman, with dark red hair, creamy alabaster skin, and a cute little smattering of freckles along her shoulders and nose.
She wondered if she had anyone in her life.
And then decided that yes, she most definitely did. A woman like that would not be single.
Her heart sank a little at the thought, surprising her. She chuckled at herself and Abby stiffened.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you laughing?”
“No reason.”
“No, really. Why are you laughing?”
She was huddled by the fire, covering herself, and Whit realized that she thought she may be laughing at her.
“It’s not you, don’t worry. You really think I would laugh at you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wow, you must be really self-conscious.”
Abby glanced away and rubbed her arms.
“Sorry,” Whit said, realizing she was right.
“Don’t be.”
“What now?” Abby asked as she continued to hug herself. Her teeth were chattering and her once red and luscious-looking lips had turned a pale blue. “I want to help.”
Whit was still cold and wet and exhausted, despite the warmth from the fire.
They desperately needed shelter. “Just…” She rose, frustrated that there was still work to be done, when all she wanted to do was warm herself near the flames.
“Stay there.” It came out harsher than she’d intended, but it got her point across so she didn’t add to it or soften the blow.
Abby in turn, blinked at her. Then she threw up her hands and sank back down to the ground. Whit ignored her. She didn’t have time to worry about her feelings. She had to save their lives, and taking time to teach a tourist how to make a shelter, would waste precious minutes they didn’t have.
Whit built the shelter by first placing two of the larger tree trunks she’d found down into the fork of the tree, so that the roof of their shelter had three beams. Then she filled in the gaps at the top with heavily leaved branches and brush.
When she finished, she built the walls of the shelter by leaning the remaining, smaller trunks and branches perpendicular against the main beams. She shoved a bunch of pine needles into the shelter to finish the job. She encouraged Abby to crawl inside.
“It’s not completely dry, but it’s a start.”
Abby hesitated a moment, as if Whit would bite. Then she knelt and crawled inside to check it out, before emerging again. Whit eased to the ground and sat in silence to stare into the fire. She took in a deep breath, finally able to relax. They had shelter and they were getting warm.
They were safe.
If only she could ensure that would last.