I stop.Cut the engine.And I listen.
What the ever-loving fuck?
I wasn’t imagining it.I know that sound.It's a distress whistle.
Someone’s out here.
I restart the engine and swing the ATV in the direction of the sound.I swear I hear a voice as well.The whistle again.Then the voice.
It sounds like a woman.
I take a four-count breath in through my nose.Hold it, exhale from my mouth.Hold it.Repeat, allowing the calm to flood my brain.My focus is on the next step.Just that.Nothing more.The step that will help me reach the source of the sound, the person in danger.
I push down on the gas.
A barbed wire fence suddenly appears in front of me.I lower my head to avoid injury and let this monster four-wheeler take it out and crush it down.Instantly, I’ve smashed through the fence line.
I cut the engine.I can’t see a damn thing.There’s a quick chirp of the whistle, very close now.But whoever is blowing it doesn’t have much air.
That’s when I hear splashing.
Oh, fuck.
“I'm on my way!”
“Help…me…I…p-p-p-lease.”
I take a step, sinking down, snow up to my knee.My boot hits what is obviously ice, and I nearly wipe out and crash on my ass.
I will not be doing this the right way.There’s no time for the procedure.If I weren’t already out of the Navy, I’d be court-martialed for the dumb shit I’m about to do.
Because I don’t have a surface-ice rescue suit.I’m not tethered with a harness around my waist that’s connected to a cord that’s secured via a locking carabiner to an unmovable anchor.I’ve got no stainless steel crampons fastened to the soles of my boots.
It’s too late for any of that shit.
Continue the mission.
The ice starts to crack under me.
I drop to a pushup position, toes and hands as wide as possible to spread my weight.I hold my nose and mouth above the snow.Slowly, I drop down until my belly presses against the ice.
I will need to do two things at once.I’ll have to slither along while creating as few localized pressure points as possible, since that’s what causes ice to break.While I plow the snow away from my face.
Fun times.
I push off from my wide-spread toes and wiggle my torso forward, arms and hands doing the breaststroke and flinging heavy snow to my sides as I go.
I focus on my breath.I hone in on the calm in my brain, my blood.I sink down into the rhythm of my movement.Push off.Slither.Plow.
“I’m slipping down,” the voice says.
“Talk to me!”
This is a woman.No doubt about it.But why the hell was she out here in a blizzard?How did she let herself fall into a lake?
Continue the mission.
Push off.Slither.Plow.
