“God, you’re heavy,” she huffed. “I can’t…get you on the damned sled.”
A sound stopped her cold. Did he say something?
“What?” She leaned close, heart trying to punch its way out of her chest. Were his eyes open? Oh God, his mouth moved.
Almost sobbing with relief, she put her ear to his neck gaiter and listened.
“Trying.” A rasping breath lifted his chest painfully. “You…too…”
“What?”
“Love…you…too.”
No time to cry.
“Yeah?” She grasped his face and held it tightly. “Then climb onto this sled.”
He huffed out an agonized sound and grimaced, which hurt her insides, but when she pulled this time, he put his arm on the ground, turned to one side, and with a groan, made it on.
“Gonna get you home,” she assured him, although she had no freaking clue where home could be. Or how she’d get there. “Get you home.”
With Ford loaded on the sled, she took a second to lean back and consider the situation while she caught her breath. No way could she pull him anywhere, home or otherwise. The impossibility of what she had to do crushed her for a good five seconds before she remembered the snowmobiles. Right.
All she had to do was climb up and out of here, then she’d tie the sled to a snowmobile and pull him out.
After that…could they make it to Volkov in a day? Crap, she had no clue.
Chapter 45
They were out.
Angel wanted to crawl into the sleeping bag with Ford and take a rest, but there wasn’t time. She pictured him freezing to death. Or bleeding. Or maybe the knocks to his head had caused him to—
Shut up and go.
She’d planned to make him lie on the sled and haul him across the ice, but he insisted on bringing the cores with them, so rather than waste time arguing, she’d piled them on the sled and turned to find him slowly, painfully climbing onto the snowmobile.
He caught her eye. “Want me to drive?” he asked, and she honest-to-God laughed. The man could barely stay upright, much less handle a moving vehicle.
“I’ve got this.”
She tucked her feet into the footwells and stared down at the GPS. With fumbling fingers, she twisted the key and got the engine running, its roar extra loud in all this stillness.
Ford wrapped himself around her, leaned into her body, pressed the side of his head to hers, and sighed.
“Let’s go,” she said.
He nodded.
“Which way?”
He whispered the coordinates into her ear.
She gave a deep, exhausted sigh and lurched toward Volkov Research Station.
* * *
Day 15—4 Miles to Volkov Station—No Food, No Shelter
