Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
There’s a howling in the distance, but this time, I don’t even flinch. The first few times, I turned my back to the fire, watching to see if anything would try to approach us, but now I’m just too tired.
My ankle is so swollen it’s painful to have my boot on, but I can’t take it off due to the cold. The rest of me aches slightly less since I took some ibuprofen from the first aid kit.
If I can slip off to sleep, maybe I’ll wake up to help arriving. No more worrying and enduring the icy temperatures. Lincoln doesn’t look like he’ll be able to sleep, so he’ll let me know if any animals approach.
It’s been so many hours since we crashed that help has to be coming any minute now. Surely this ordeal is almost over.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lincoln
It’s dark, but the flickering fire casts enough light for me to see Trinity staring me down. I raise my voice this time, trying to get through to the stubborn-as-shit woman I’ve been freezing my ass off with for the past sixteen hours.
“Put the goddamn boots on. I don’t have the energy to keep arguing with you.”
“No.” She stretches the word into three syllables this time like I’m too dense to comprehend it. “Then you won’t have any boots and you’ll get frostbite.”
“You might already have frostbite in those ridiculous boots of yours. Put the fucking boots on, Trinity.”
It’s late morning here, but it’s still dark. Trinity slept for a few hours, but I only dozed off for about ten minutes while sitting up. I’ve been pacing to try to generate body heat, but when Trinity told me a few minutes ago that she couldn’t feel her toes, I took my boots off and offered them to her. We’ve been engaged in a standoff ever since.
“We can’t stay here,” she says, catching me off guard.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, but for now, you need to put these boots on.”
She shakes her head, her expression mournful as she looks up at me from the ground.
I bend down so we’re at eye level and give her my most menacing glare. “I don’t want to wrestle you to the ground and put them on you, but I will if I have to.”
She holds my gaze, completely unfazed. “No, you won’t. Without those boots, you have nothing for your feet. At least I have something, even if these aren’t the greatest.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “Those aren’t enough for you if you can’t feel your toes.”
“We need to find shelter.”
“We can build one here. We have to stay near the plane. Otherwise there’s no way we’ll be found.”
She stands up, whimpering as she tries to bear weight on her left foot. Snowflakes are floating downward, dampening the fire so much I can barely make out the outline of her now.
“It’s too cold and wet,” she argues. “We can see if it’s safe to get back in the plane if you want to, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to have a fire there.”
I look at the ground. “No, I already checked it. There’s not much left and it could fall out of the tree any second.”
A few moments of silence pass before she continues. “Trained rescuers will be able to track us. It’s not that I want to go, but we have to. It’s too cold here. We have one good coat and one good pair of boots between us.”
“There’s no place to go,” I remind her. “The view out the plane windows was just trees and snow. And you can’t walk.”
It wasn’t just the cold that kept me up all night, staring forlornly into the fire. The seriousness of our situation settles deeper into my bones with every passing hour. I’m still hoping for rescue, but I can’t help my mind wandering to what will happen if they can’t find us.
I hear her sigh softly. “I know. But you know I’m right.”
She sniffles, probably an indication she’s crying. Fuck. I’m a leader, but I’m used to leading a bunch of male hockey players. I generally tell them to nut up. And we’re never in life-or-death situations.
It’s bitterly cold here, even though we’re sheltered from some of the wind. Trinity is right about the coat and boots situation, and the moving pad and emergency blankets just aren’t enough, either. My mind and body have slowed down a lot, and I’ve been telling myself it was just the lack of sleep and cold, but deep down, I know Trinity is right. Our survival plan can’t just be hoping help will arrive any minute.
The weight of my promise to Dalton sits heavily on my shoulders. What if we leave and then die looking for shelter? It feels like a lose-lose situation.
“We have to try,” Trinity says, her tone a mixture of fear and determination.