Under the Northern Lights(7)

There were loose small branches and twigs under the safety of the trees. I gathered them together into a pile, then got to work igniting them. With my shaking fingers, it took longer than I wanted, and my joy shifted to frustration. I couldn’t give up, though—not with physical relief in my grasp—and eventually the dry wood caught, and a small fire started growing into a larger one. The immediate heat was an instant mood elevator, and I was smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. There was nothing like warmth when you were chilled to the bone. And as an added bonus, the flames would help keep away any predators who might have discovered me. The fire didn’t ensure my survival, but it was a much-needed step along the way, and I finally began to believe I could do this.

I suddenly wanted to sit in front of the fire, but I needed to finish first—when I was finally able to rest, I wouldn’t want to get up again. Setting down my crutch, I carefully pulled the tent out of the bag and popped it open. Then I grabbed the insulating blanket and wrapped it around myself. After pulling out my meal for the night—beef jerky and dehydrated fruit—I finally and thankfully sat down on a log near the fire. It was so heavenly a sob of joy escaped me. Thank God . . . I made it.

Adding sticks to the blaze, I reveled in the heat as it soothed my aching body. Breathing wasn’t any easier, and my leg radiated with pain, but I felt more at peace. I’d made it through my checklist, accomplished everything I’d needed to do to survive. For today. Tomorrow, the list would start again. And again. And again. Until finally, I somehow managed to get out of here. But that was far down the line and not worth stressing about at the moment. For now, I was simply overjoyed to be alive, and I was going to revel in that feeling.

Setting my pot on the edge of the fire, I filled it with snow. I’d give anything for some wine right about now or some whiskey, but water would have to do. When it was ready, I set the pot in the snow to cool the water down. Then I drank my fill. It wouldn’t seem like you could get dehydrated in severe cold, but you could, just the same as in the desert. Once I was satiated, I melted more snow and washed my face as best as I could. Sharp stings—especially above my eye—reminded me just how scraped up I was. After my face was clean, I loosened the straps around my leg. Grabbing a flashlight from my bag, I tried to get a good look at my injury. It was hard to see around my pants, so I found some scissors and made a larger hole. The wound looked nasty, but it didn’t appear to be bleeding heavily anymore—just oozing. I was grateful for that. Digging through my small first aid kit, I grabbed antibacterial ointment and some gauze pads. I cleaned up the wound as best I could, then rewrapped my thigh. Even though I left the straps looser than before, pain still washed through me in waves when I cinched it. But still, in as much agony as I was in, I knew I was blessed; I shouldn’t have survived that crash.

As I sat there enjoying the heat of the fire, the sun sank past the horizon, and darkness settled around me. The temperature would truly start to plummet now. Just as I had that thought, an icy wind whipped through my little camp, slightly lifting an edge of my tent. The sky had cleared somewhat since the crash, but if another storm was on the way, waiting it out inside my shelter was the safest place to be. I poured the remaining water on the fire, then grabbed my bag and crawled inside my tiny tent. It was tight with both me and the bag inside, but I didn’t have a bear-proof container handy—all the ones I’d brought with me had been destroyed. And besides, I wasn’t about to let the bag out of my sight after everything I’d gone through to find it.

The wind picked up, howling just as ominously as the wolf I’d heard earlier. The sides of my tent rattled in the gusts, shaking so hard it was like someone was outside, playing a practical joke on me. But this was no joke. I was safe, though, and relatively warm. I could move all my fingers and all my toes, although I tried not to move the ones on my injured leg. All things considered, I was very lucky. Counting my blessings, however small they might be, I closed my eyes and let the day’s exhaustion overtake me.

That was when I heard something alarming in the breeze. A huffing, grunting sound. A sniffing nose, searching the ground for food. A large nose, belonging to a large beast. A grizzly. A deep snort somewhere off to my left confirmed my suspicions. There was a bear somewhere in the woods, somewhere close by, probably going through all the food that had exploded from my belongings during the crash. I put my hand on the rifle that I’d also brought into the tent with me, and then I reclosed my eyes. Even though I was shaking with fear, I knew there was nothing I could do about a curious, hungry bear, except pray that it would be satisfied with the food I’d left scattered and would leave me alone.

Please don’t let me live through a plane crash only to be mauled by a bear . . .





Chapter Three

I awoke early the next morning when the sun was barely gracing the sky. How I’d managed to sleep at all was beyond me. Pure exhaustion, probably. The bear had sniffed and snorted its way around my campsite, but for reasons unknown, it had left me alone.

My body hurt ten times more than it had yesterday. I knew that was both a blessing and a curse. Aching muscles and cracked ribs would heal, given enough time, but the pain had to get worse before it could get better. The only thing that truly concerned me was my leg. My pants were stained and splotched with blood, and I was sure I should probably have stitches to close the gaping wound. I didn’t have those kinds of supplies with me, though . . . and I wasn’t sure I could sew my own skin even if I did. Just the thought made bile rise up my throat. I’d just have to trust that the wound would close completely on its own and hopefully wouldn’t get infected in the process. Aside from the antibacterial ointment, I didn’t have anything on me that would help with an infection.