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I’m lost.
I’ve been out here ten minutes, and I’m completely fucking lost.
The most dangerous thing about a snowstorm isn’t necessarily the cold, or the wind. Humans can survive that, as long as they get back inside fast enough. It’s the disorientation. When everything around you is white and moving, you can barely tell up from down, or left from right. You could leave your house to put the bins out, then die ten feet from your door, because you can’t remember which direction you came from.
When I first stepped outside, the visibility was near zero. I’d hoped that she’d have left some sort of trail; but of course, her footprints were long covered. All I could do was plough forward through the wind, trying to navigate from memory.
By my guess, she would have made it almost to the road before she realised that she wouldn’t be able to get any further. I try to hold a map of the land in my head as I forge through the whirling snow, praying that I’m heading in the right direction. Strong wind buffets me back, and icy snowflakes sting the tiny amount of skin left uncovered by my goggles and scarf. I’m losing hope. For all I know, I could be going in circles. I could arrive right back at the front door at any second. I could—
I almost fall over as I slam right into some bushes. They’re completely covered in white, and I’m so snow-blind I can barely see them, but I recognise them as the bushes lining the end of the road. I have been going in the right direction. A thought occurs to me. Daisy’s smart. If she got this far, she would’ve hid under the bush for cover.
And if she hasn’t made it to the bush, then she’s dead. So I don’t have a choice.
I start walking alongside the hedge, looking for lumps in the ground. I barely make it ten steps before I trip over something soft. I drop to my knees, scooping frantically at the snow. A smear of pink appears under my hands. Her coat. It’sher.She’s covered in snow, but the shelter from the bush has stopped her from becoming buried in it. I wipe her face clean. There’s snow in her hair, falling down her coat, sticking to her eyelashes. Her eyes are closed. She’s as still as a corpse in my lap.
“Daisy,” I breathe, stroking her face. “Daisy. Daisy, please. Come on, baby. You’re not dead.”
After a few terrifying seconds, her eyes flicker open. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. I could fucking cry with relief.
I look her over, cataloguing her blue lips and skin. She’s not shivering, which is a very, very bad sign. She’s hypothermic. I need to warm her up, now. The fastest way would be through my own body heat, but for that to work, we’d need to strip off, and we can’t do that until we’re somewhere dry.
I give her a little shake. She lolls in my arms, blinking sleepily. “Daisy. Can you stay awake? Can you talk to me?”
Her blue, chapped lips move. I bend, putting my ear right by her mouth.
“Teddy,” she mumbles. My heart clenches.
“Yeah. I’m here. I’m here, you’re going to be okay.”
“Sorry.” Her eyes flutter, but she doesn’t say anything else. She’s fading. Trying to balance my pack on my back, I wrap my hands under her armpits and pull her upright, swinging her into my arms. She barely weighs anything. My pack is heavier than her, for God’s sake. As soon as I get her back to the cabin, I’m locking her inside and feeding her up. Maybe then she’ll stop getting blown over by the wind.
“Hold on to my neck,” I bellow. I feel her arms loop weakly around my neck, and turn, looking around. Everything is a white blur. Which way was the house? Hell, I can’t remember. My tracks through the snow are already completely covered. I feel fear squeezing my throat shut. Forcing myself to stay calm, I take a second to reorient myself, then turn ninety degrees to the left. This should—should—be the way back to the house. I plough forward, stumbling through the snow. My shoulder burns as Daisy’s weight tugs at the wound, but I ignore it. I have to get her back inside. I have to get her safe.
I grunt as something slaps into my hip. It’s thin and taut, almost like a handrail or a clothesline. I frown, feeling along it, brushing off the snow. It’s some kind of cord. The rope that Daisy set up to guide us towards the house when visibility is bad. My heart lurches.
I don’t have a spare hand, so I lean on it with my hip, following it forward. I barely make it five steps before I fall, tripping over a rock covered by the snow.
It takes me almost thirty seconds to get back up. I pat down Daisy, checking that she’s uninjured, then rearrange her in my arms and keep moving. The next time I fall, it takes a full minute to get my feet under me again. All the time, the snow is getting thicker and heavier. Every time we go down, it starts to cover us, threatening to bury us completely until I force myself back up again.
It happens again, and again, and again. We move at a snail’s pace. It feels like with every step I take, I get weaker. My limbs are going numb. My body temp is dropping.
The next time I trip, I don’t even fall over anything; I just trip over my own damn boot. I drop onto my knees again, doubling over. Daisy almost rolls out of my arms, but I grab at her, panting. My shoulder is burning like fire.
We’re not going to make it. I know how far I walked from the house. It was this distance four or five times over. Even if I picked the right direction, we’re not going to make it.
I’ve had a few near-death experiences before. I’ve been caught in storms, and beaten up in fighting rings, and attacked by wild animals. Each time, the second I realised I might actually die, a strange sense of calm came over me. I felt almost peaceful. When all choice has been taken away from you, there’s nothing left to worry about.
But right now, I’m not peaceful. I don’t give a shit if I die, but this isn't about me. It’s abouther.
There’s no way I’m letting her die. Not while I have breath in my body. I’ll fight to the very last second.
I roar into the wild wind as I force myself up again, heaving her into my arms. With first one step, and then another, I keep moving forward.
Slowly, through the snow, something grey looms in front of me. I squint, wiping my goggles clumsily on my shoulder. A few staggering steps closer, and it comes into focus.
It’s the shack. The ramshackle, broken-down stone cave we abandoned when we first moved into the cabin. The stunning, kind,geniusgirl put theshackon the rescue route. Even though I told her not to bother.
Well, today, her own kindness is going to save her life. I stagger the last few steps through the snow, practically falling into the shelter. Instantly, the deafening noise of the wind outside gets muffled by the stone walls. It’s still freezing in here, but at least we’re protected from the wet and the wind.
