Nathan Jones - Shortage

Compared to the hikes he’d done last fall their pace was fairly slow and he’d never felt so exhausted, thanks in part to hunger and in part to a mostly uphill climb. That first day they made enough distance to get up beyond where the snow piled around their ankles to where it piled to their knees or even their hips in some places.

With their packs they couldn’t hope to walk on the crust without sinking, some places a few inches and some places a few feet, wading through powder and barking their shins on the icy crust with each step. Matt regretted not thinking to bring snowshoes, but as long as they picked their path carefully they should be fine. At the very least there’d been no sign of any storms when they set out, and the weather continued to remain clear, if colder up at these elevations.

They’d made about half the distance in half a day, but unfortunately it was the easiest distance. Now they had deep snow and steeper inclines to contend with, which would make it a question of how long it would take to cover the rest of the distance the next day, if they even could. Matt was optimistic as he helped set up camp, though, estimating that with an early start they’d reach Highway 31 sometime in the afternoon. From there it wouldn’t be long to the hideout.

The morning dawned clear and cold, and Matt was pleased to discover that the-relatively-warmer temperatures yesterday that had softened the snow and made it such a chore to trudge through had resulted in a solid frozen crust that held their weight even in their packs as long as they stepped carefully. He had them quickly break camp and continue on, eating breakfast as they went. The snow crust carried them for a few hours, but it wasn’t the heat of the rising sun that made it disappear.

They’d come high enough that even during the day it wasn’t warm enough to melt much of a crust to freeze on the snow. From here on out they’d be wading through powder the rest of the way, a tradeoff of lighter snow that was easier to kick through, but up to their hips or higher so every step was a chore. Their speed cut down dramatically, and Matt was sure he wasn’t the only one whose muscles began to burn so fiercely he was forced to rest no matter how slow they’d been going. Tom especially was red-faced and huffing, the strain in his expression giving the lie to his insistence that he was ready to move on at the end of each rest.

But finally they reached the highway, a bit later than Matt had estimated but not too far off course. The road itself wasn’t much better than anywhere else with snow piled high along it, but at least the railings to either side had gathered snowdrifts from the prevailing winds and left the powder not quite as deep on the far side.

Grinning with relief, Matt crossed to the lee side of the railing and led his companions north for the final short leg of their trip.

Lewis was busy seasoning the wheat he’d just boiled, with strips of rabbit cooking on the stovetop nearby, when Trev burst into the hideout.

“You’ve got to see this!” he said, doing his best not to shout.

His cousin immediately drew his 1911, holding it ready to quickly raise and aim. “Intruders?”

Trev couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Kind of. You’ll have to wait and see. Come on.” He turned and started back down the gentle slope toward the cliffs overlooking the road.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lewis demanded, standing at the threshold so he wouldn’t get snow on his socks and shivering at the icy blasts of wind swirling into the lean-to around him. “I’ve got food cooking!”

“Take it off the stove. Believe me, it’ll be worth it.”

Trev kept on going, and about a minute later his cousin trotted down the path they’d trampled through the deep snow to catch up to him. His boots were untied and he was still pulling on his heavy coat, and his irritation looked like it was about to boil over into actual anger. “Seriously, man, “Wait and see” is not the right response to a potentially dangerous situation.”

Trev grinned and took the last few steps to the edge of the cliff, motioning towards the road south of them. “So why don’t you show me what the proper response is.”

Grumbling to himself, Lewis accepted the binoculars Trev offered him and followed his pointing finger. He spent a few tense moments adjusting the range and getting a good look at the three approaching people, then slowly lowered the binoculars again to let them hang from the strap around his neck as he continued to gape southward. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Grin widening, Trev stepped up beside his cousin. “That’s what I thought. Should we go welcome our guests?”

His cousin thoughtfully reached up and tugged at his full beard. They’d made it a point to bathe regularly and do the necessary trimming and grooming, but as the days got colder and colder they’d both taken to letting their hair grow out to provide that added bit of warmth. Trev couldn’t grow a very good beard, mostly on his jaw and neck, but it still warmed his face.

He got the hint. “I suppose if they’re still an hour or so away we could take some time to make ourselves presentable.”

Matt left Tom and Jane behind at the road with his backpack while he crossed the river on the familiar rocks and started up the slope towards his friends’ hideout.

He wasn’t about to give out Trev and Lewis’s secrets to anyone, even if he trusted the two new residents of Aspen Hill well enough. They’d certainly pointed out where he’d expected to find the “Spirits of Huntington River” who’d saved them from bandits last Halloween. It had been a few miles to the south of here, but it strongly supported his suspicions about Trev and Lewis being the ones who’d helped the refugees.

On the way across the river he nearly slipped on the icy rocks, barely catching himself before tumbling into the partially frozen-over water, and he muttered in annoyance under his breath. He’d known it was going to still be winter up in the mountains, probably for another few months yet, and had prepared accordingly. But at the same time it was a bit of a pain to leave during the first relatively mild days of spring down in the valley and come up here to trudge through several feet of snow in temperatures well below freezing to search for his friends.

Trev and Lewis may have had a good reason doing it, but he still thought they were crazy to come live up here where snow stuck around for 9 months of the year. Assuming they were still alive at all. Matt shook aside that grim thought and started up the slope, finding it even more slippery and treacherous than he remembered with all the snow around.

They were alive. If an idiot like him had managed to muddle through the winter with his family those two would be just fine. They had to be.

He was perfectly certain of that, but it didn’t stop him from picking up the pace.

A recent snowfall had been hard enough to drift a layer of snow under the dense trees growing up the steep slope, covering the treacherous deadfall underfoot, and although he didn’t see any sign of a trail Matt thought the snow was a bit deeper to either side of the route he’d taken. The familiar one he’d hiked up with his friends a few times on fishing trips when they were much younger.

Was it possible there was a trail buried under this snow, that his friends had used to get down to the river for fishing or to draw water? If so they hadn’t used it recently.

It took longer than he’d expected to reach the bottom of the cliffs and the treacherous gap that would allow him to climb up to the landing above with a bit of work. On the broken rocks there he finally saw what he’d been hoping for, the scuff of a boot print in the dirt that had gathered in one of the cracks. It was concealed from wind and snow by a slight overhang, but even so it couldn’t have been there for more than a few weeks.