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This guy can’t fucking hear me, and I can’t scream any louder and the helicopter is getting closer and closer and then I’m coughing again, the cold air stinging my throat and my nose and my lungs. I can’t breathe, can’t suck in enough oxygen to get any words out as tears stream down my face, freezing to my cheeks.
God, I hope she’s alright, that they found her, that they have her.
I open my mouth to try to speak again but I can’t, the coughing worse than before as I’m thrown around even harder, the wind like needles against my skin. I have to close my eyes, as the noise gets louder and louder until it’s practically deafening.
I feel my body tilt suddenly, the motion so unexpected, that my eyes fly open and I open my mouth to cry out only to start coughing again. I feel the hard scrape of something underneath me, my body being pulled against something before it’s finally leveled out and the harsh wind slapping at my face finally eases up.
I try to open my eyes again, but I can’t stop coughing, my lungs feeling like they are filled with lead or fluid or something. It’s stopping me from getting any air in and for a second, I wonder if this is what drowning feels like.
Something is placed on my face, over my mouth and nose, and I feel a rush of air that I try desperately to suck in. It’s still noisy as hell and when I try to open my eyes again, everything is a blur, the wind rushing against me, the snow and sky flying past and people everywhere.
I can’t see any faces though, everyone covered in helmets and goggles as I search for Laney, needing to see her, to find her.
I cough again, my lungs seizing as a powerful fit hits me. The mask is pulled off my face for a moment and I spit something out of my mouth before the mask is replaced. I close my eyes again, suddenly overcome with exhaustion as I sink into the blackness.
When I next openmy eyes, everything is dark and quiet, the only sound is a soft beeping noise from somewhere behind me. There’s a tube on my face, running under my nose and when I take a tentative breath, it feels a little easier than before.
Glancing down, I see I’m in a bed, covered in heavy blankets that feel warm and safe. There’s a drip in my arm, the tubing running to a bag that’s hanging on a pole beside the bed. My clothes are gone too, replaced with a scratchy hospital gown that’s loose against me. Wires come out of the top of it, running to the machine that’s beeping behind me, another cord running to something clamped on the end of my left index finger.
“Alex?”
I turn my head on the pillow, unable to lift it, blinking a few times as I try to focus in the low lighting. “Da—” I cough, though it feels a little easier this time, my lungs less constricted and heavy. “Dad?” I try again.
He smiles, pulling the chair he’s sitting in closer toward my bed as he reaches out a hand to me. He stalls out, his hand hovering over mine for a second before he exhales in a rush and grabs my hand in his. “Jesus christ, Alex, I thought I’d lost you, I thought…”
He trails off and I’m about to ask him where Delaney is or what he’s even doing here, when I realize he’s crying, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he takes my hand in both of his, bowing so his forehead is resting against them.
“God, I can’t believe they finally found you,” he says, choking on the words as he tries to muffle his sobs. I can’t even remember the last time I saw my dad cry, probably my mom’s funeral and it’s such a shock, such an unexpected reaction from him that I don’t even know what to say.
“Dad?” I eventually get out.
He looks up, his red rimmed eyes meeting mine. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
“What?” he says, confusion in his voice.
“Here,” I say. “What are you doing here?” I don’t mean for my words to sound harsh and if anything, I’m more confused than anything else.
“Alex,” he says warily. “Of course I’m here. I’ve been here since the avalanche.”
“You have?”
He shuffles closer on the chair, still holding my hand in both of his as his gaze meets mine. With a sad smile, he says, “Alex…I know things…I know things haven’t been good between us.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I have so many regrets over that; the things I’ve said, the things I’ve done, but…you’re my son, Alex. Of course I’m here.”
I hear the words he’s saying, words I never expected to hear him say and yet I can’t process any of it. Can’t explain why I suddenly feel fifteen years old again, standing beside him, my hand in his, both of us crying as we watch the coffin get lowered into the ground.
“Alex,” he continues quietly. “You’re my son and I love you. God, when I thought I’d lost you too, it…it was—” The rest of his sentence is cut off by a sob and I watch as his head drops to the bed. His reaction is so unexpected, nothing like I thought our first meeting post Colorado would go, that I literally don’t know what to say.
Eventually he sucks in a deep, shaking breath, looking up with an apologetic smile. “I can’t believe you survived an avalanche,” he says, shaking his head.
I nod, surprised to find my own cheeks are wet with tears. With my free hand, I brush them away as I take another breath. God, it feels so good being able to breathe again. “Yeah, it was pretty scary,” I admit.
“How did you survive?” he asks. “How did you find the cabin and food and…”
With a chuckle and shrug, I reply, “Luck and I guess the whole scout thing came in handy.”
Dad laughs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe after all that, it was pneumonia that could’ve been what…” he trails off again.
