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)
“Give me a little bit to think about it.”
“It’s not just up to you.”
I exhale heavily, wishing for just an hour of sleep. Just one hour to get my mind clearer. “Promise me you won’t leave without me. No matter what, we have to stay together.”
“I agree. But I won’t stay here and freeze to death just because you have a penis and I don’t.”
I snap at her, my patience eradicated by lack of food and sleep. “Fuck your feminism. We might freeze to death out there, too. I said I’ll think about it. Now we both need to eat something and try to get some blood moving.”
“I’ll eat something if you put your boots back on.”
I sit down and grab one of my boots, wishing I had the energy for a run to cool my frustration. “Eat or don’t eat, it’s up to you. I’m not playing your fucking games.”
“Because not wanting you to lose your feet to frostbite is a game to me.” She rolls her eyes.
I silently get both of my boots on, thinking about Dalton. He knows by now that we didn’t arrive in Minneapolis, and I’m sure he’s going crazy. My energy has to be spent taking care of his sister, not arguing with her.
At least we have the survival kit. I open it and take out two protein bars, passing one to Trinity. She takes it, still glowering at me.
The bar tastes like cardboard, but I still savor every crumb. I’m running through scenarios in my head, not liking any of them.
And making an already bad situation even worse, now my feet are wet. I can’t risk taking my boots and socks off to try to dry them and my feet over the fire because of the cold.
“Would we hear a plane if it was flying overhead?” Trinity seems to be over her mood. “Would they even look in the dark?”
“I don’t know if we’d hear it. I think they’d look, yeah.”
“Do you think we should be out in the open where we can see a plane if it flies overhead so we can shoot the flare gun?”
I scrub a hand down my face. “That makes sense, yeah. But it’s a lot colder out in the open.”
“Yeah.”
A few seconds of silence pass before I ask, “How are you feeling?”
She shrugs. “Worn down.”
“Are you sore?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to use any more of the medicine; we might need it later.” She smiles ruefully. “If bears bite our legs off, Tylenol can help with the pain, right?”
I exhale a single note of laughter. “Chris should’ve put a bottle of whiskey in that survival kit.”
Her expression turns serious. “If we’re going to look for shelter, we need to travel when there’s light.”
That’ll only last for around six hours. This is a decision we’re making together, but no matter what, I’m responsible for what happens to us. If anything happens to Trinity, it’ll be on me.
“Fucking Alaska. Our exhibition game was in Florida last year.”
She stands up, wincing as she brushes snow and dirt from her pants. “Eating that energy bar helped.”
“No offense, but I don’t think walking through the snow with a busted ankle will be any easier because you ate an energy bar.”
“I’d take an Uber if I could, but my phone was on the plane.” Her tone is light.
I reach into my pocket and take my phone out. “I’ve got mine, but it’s useless. No service.”
My pile of firewood has dwindled to almost nothing. I throw the last decent-sized log on the fire and say, “I need to go get more wood.”
“Lincoln. We can’t stay here.”
“We’re staying until the sun comes up. We need to get as warm as we can before we set off to find the nearest Hilton.”
She scoffs. “We might find a cave where we can get dry. Out of the wind.”
Or we might find nothing but miles of snow. I don’t say it because we both know it already. The thought of rescuers telling Dalton they found our frozen bodies in the middle of nowhere makes my chest ache.
“We’ll try,” I say cautiously. “But if it’s nothing but snow and wind, we might have to come back here.”
Even though it’s too dark for our eyes to meet, I can feel her looking at me across the fire. “If anything happens to me, tell my m--”
I cut her off. “No. There’s nothing to tell anyone because you’re going to be fine. This will end up being your best story at parties someday.”
“I hope so.” There’s a sad smile in her voice.
“Look, I know I haven’t been all that encouraging, but we have to stay positive. Help is on the way. We just need to be smart and stay hydrated and warm while we wait.”
“Right.”
“The survival kit has a pad of paper and pencil. I’m going to leave a note at the plane.”