AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She talked to the uneasy animal, her voice seeming to soothe him better than anything. In a whispery voice, she told him that Whit and Glen were taking Rudy to the doctor. She watched his ears stand up, listening to her words. “I’m terrified, Nito. Whit hasn’t texted me yet.” She knew she wouldn’t take an easy breath again until she had word that her men were safe.
Having experienced the horrific weather herself, it didn’t take a veteran to know they would be in grave danger, surrounded by the elements at their worst. God, why had she let them go? They should have tried to get medical help online and kept Rudy here.
Emotions spiraling, Demi followed that line of reasoning until she reached the conclusion that even if they had gotten help, they had no way to operate. After she’d seen Rudy’s injuries, she had a sneaky suspicion it would be necessary. So how could she argue that it might have been Rudy’s only chance to live?
She couldn’t. Whit had known it was the right thing to do. So had Glen. And they hadn’t hesitated to put their own lives at risk for the young man. Pride overwhelmed her as she sat petting her wolf companion.
Looking over to where Fred had become silent, she saw that the old man had fallen asleep, no doubt worn out from the emotional storm he’d recently suffered. Before she turned away, she noticed a weirdness that made her rise and move closer to him. Something wasn’t right in the way he’d slumped over.
Walking faster, she noticed his breathing wasn’t right either. Now she rushed to his side so she could get a better look. That’s when she saw his hand clutching at his chest, and her suspicions multiplied.
Christ, has he had a heart attack?
Chapter Twenty-seven
Whit had been out in bad weather before. Anyone living in Alaska had experienced snow and winds. But he’d never before fought a blizzard with what he believed had the sole intention of killing them.
Breathing was impossible without a face covering, and thankfully, he had his firmly in place. Face goggles helped him to see for the few inches of visibility in front of him. Predictably, his nerves soon became strained from the poor vision.
Thank God for the powerful gleam of the headlights which showed the driving snow blowing so thick, he basically felt his way through the disastrous buildup.
Suddenly, he realized his bad eye was watering and the only way he could focus was to keep it shut. Pain began to build into a raging headache, the kind he hadn’t had for a long time.
Christ, not now. Please.
Having sharp instincts helped a lot. Without his realizing, the huge trees on each side guided him automatically. Otherwise, he’d never have been able to travel a few feet never mind the two miles they needed to cover to get to the junction.
Strong arms clung around his waist and a face hid in his back, sheltering as much as possible from the biting icy snow. He bellowed, “Everything okay?”
Glen yelled out what he took to be a yes. He grimly clung to the handles, knowing if they stopped for any reason they might not get started again.
After more time passed, and they’d made some headway, he almost became complacent. That is until Glen screamed, “Stop.”
Jesus H. Christ. Now what?
He turned his head and before he could question why he needed to stop, he felt Glen let go of him and tumble off the snowmobile. That’s when he slowed the machine and turned to see a nightmare. They’d lost their sled and the body on it.
He could barely make out Glen’s form now crawling back from where they came. Knowing he couldn’t leave him, nor did he want to stop their machine, he circled carefully to go back the way they’d come. Slowing by Glen, he shouted, “Get on. We’ll find him.”
Once Glen had slid in place, he started forward sluggishly, not willing to kill the motor. A few feet further, he barely made out the sled where it lay turned over on the side of the road. Without Glen signaling desperately, he might have passed right by it.
Leaving the snowmobile idling, they both rushed to find that the attached rope had been entangled by a hidden branch and had ripped the sled from its connection. Screaming directions to turn the sled upright, they both worked together, checking to see that Rudy hadn’t become unstable in the accident.
Once they were sure of his safety, that he was still breathing, Whit used his hands to motion what he wanted from Glen. Once the younger man nodded his understanding, he also pulled off his scarf like Whit, and tying them together to form a rope of sorts, they quickly pulled Rudy back to the waiting machine. Having to take off their heavy protective mitts to do so, both now suffered from frozen fingers, and it took even more time than usual.
Before they settled back on the snowmobile, Whit held out the end of the scarf and shouted into Rudy’s face. “Can you hold this? Make sure the sled follows? I’ll go as slow as I can, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Chances?” Glen screamed the question.
“Of overheating.”
Nodding to show he understood, Glen took the scarf and looped it around his hand.
Whit almost had a heart attack when he went to rev up the engine and heard strange noises while feeling the machine shimmy. Worried the spark plugs might have become damp and would stall the snowmobile, he did everything including pray for it to settle down so they could move on.
Finally, he felt it resume the normal throbbing sounds he expected. That’s when he noticed it had become stuck in the groove of snow where they’d stopped. An icy buildup had formed, and he was now forced to throw his weight from side to side, using every muscle in his back, arms, and legs, trying to loosen the skis.
God… hey, are you even listening?
