Please let someone find us.
Charlie tried to assess their situation in the crushing darkness.
The air pocket. Basketball-sized. Maybe enough air for both of them for ten minutes. Maybe fifteen if they stayed calm.
My shoulder.Gunshot wound to left shoulder. Bleeding but not arterial. Her tactical vest had deflected the worst of the bullet, but the shattered beacon had done damage. Her ribs hurt—cracked, maybe broken from the avalanche impact. Her left leg was pinned. She couldn't feel her feet.
Viv's condition. Breathing rapidly. Conscious. Pressed against Charlie's chest in the tiny space they shared.
Our position. No idea. They could’ve been three feet under or fifteen. Hard to know which direction was up.
The beacon.
There was only pain where the beacon should be and warm liquid.
Blood.
The bullet had hit the beacon. Destroyed it.
No signal. They won't be able to find us with the beacon. Ironic that the thing that probably saved me will now cause us to die.
Panic tried to claw up Charlie's throat. She forced it down.
Stop thinking that way. Ben is here. He will find you.
“Charlie?” Viv whispered. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing. Just checking something.” No point in scaring Viv. “We're okay.”
But they weren't okay. Without the beacon, Ben and Shane would have to grid search. That took time. Time they might not have.
The temperature wasalready dropping around them. The snow was so cold on her back. Charlie could feel it leeching the heat from her body, but it would have been much worse if they didn’t have each other’s body heat.
Then she felt something hard pressing against her ribs between her and Viv.
The oxygen canister!
Right. Viv had been holding it when the avalanche hit.
“Viv,” Charlie whispered. “The oxygen. Can you open it and hit the button?”
Charlie felt Viv’s hand shifting. “Yeah. I... I think I can.”
Hope blazed through Charlie's chest.
“Got it.”
There was a faint hiss followed by the smell of pure oxygen.
Charlie felt tears of relief freeze on her face. “Small breaths. We need to conserve it until we’re found.”
“You breathe deep,” Viv said. “You're hurt?—”
“Viv—”
“You threw yourself over me. You took a bullet.” Viv's voice was firm despite the fear. “You're losing blood. You first.”
Charlie didn't have the strength to argue. She tilted her face down and she heard the oxygen hiss out of the bottle as Viv pressed the button.
