I turn back to the ATV, then stop.I decide to spin around and grab the chainsaw.I have no idea why, but a voice in the back of my head is telling me not to leave it behind.So I don’t.I secure it to the trunk straps on the back, hop on, hit the gas, and turn the ATV around.I let the wind push me south.
Until it suddenly changes again, hitting my right flank straight on and nearly tossing this half-ton of steel straight off the cliff.
“Holy shit.”
I come to a stop.I check my phone.No signal.Next, I check my satellite navigation, only to find it’s on the fritz.This has to be one gigantic banger of a storm if it’s interfering with my military-grade GPS.
I already had a bad feeling about this situation, but now, this is war.
I start up again, heading southwest.But I’m only feeling my way, hoping I’m on course.I’m flying blind—literally.The snow is so thick that I can barely see the dashboard.
I can’t navigate by feel, either.The snow is deep enough now that I’m unable to sense any change in the terrain beneath me.Am I on the trail?Maybe.Maybe not.
Since the sun has been swallowed up by storm clouds, it’s not possible to navigate by its position.All I hear is the wind, a howl from hell.All I smell is snow.All I taste is cold.
I’m starting to think that this storm—predicted or not—will be one for the record books.
CHAPTER 13
Phoebe
No, no, no.I can’t cry.
It’s not that I’m worried my eyeballs will freeze, because that’s not possible.As long as a body is producing heat, the eye’s vitreous fluid can’t ice up.
But crying isn’t going to help my already pitiful ability to see through this curtain of blowing snow.
Plus, if I start crying, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.
Because the situation has gone from dangerous to dire.
I have no idea where I am or what direction I’m headed.I’m lost.I’ve been lost for a while now, and I’ll likely need to get out the spare gas container and refill the tank.
But why bother, when I have no destination?
I think I’ve been driving in circles.
I’m so cold.I’m shaking nonstop now.The narrow bits of exposed skin beneath my goggles and above my balaclava are painful.It feels like a thousand tiny needles are pricking at my flesh.
I hope I don’t have frostbite.That is a brutal condition.I’ve treated my share of frostbite patients, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
But I’ve heard that dying from hypothermia is one of the more peaceful ways to go.They say that in the end, exhaustion takes over, organs shut down, and the person simply slides into unconsciousness and is carried away to death.
I’ve never understood how they can be so sure about that.It’s not like those who’ve succumbed to hypothermia can rise from the dead and say, “You know what?That wasn’t half bad!”while filling out their study questionnaires.
Despite my thermal, water-wicking, and insulated layers, I am freezing cold.Will I get so cold that I won’t care?Maybe that’s where the peaceful part comes in.
I haven’t given up.I’m still hoping I’ll stumble on somewhere to take shelter.An overhang would be fine, or a cave would be better.I’d take a thick stand of trees at this point.I brought matches and fire starters, so if I can get somewhere at least partially protected from the wind and snow, I could build a fire.
But visibility is so bad that all I see is white.I could be three feet from the perfect cave and I’d have no idea it’s there.
I do know this: I’ll have one opportunity to make the right choice.Because once I stop, that’s it.I can’t get back on this ATV and drive around again.My chances of survival will be far better if I at least attempt to make a shelter and stay put.
So that’s what I’ll—
I hear it.
My mind stops racing.
