Gerri Hill - Sierra City

"Bobby, I'm going to go out looking," she said.

"No way. You'll get lost. You can't see shit," he yelled.

"I'll tie a rope to you," she said and took off her pack. She pulled out the rest of the rope and tied the end around her waist. The other end she gave to Bobby. "It's the only way."

"Be careful," he called as she walked away.

She stumbled blindly into the snow, her snowshoes now caked with wet packed snow. She knew instantly that they were in the right area. Flat, no rocks or trees that she could tell. She walked on, arms outstretched so that she wouldn't run into anything. Suddenly before her, were piles of rocks. Granite. She was close. She walked farther on, only feet from the rocks. She looked up, but couldn't tell how high they were. For all she knew, these were simply boulders, only five or six feet high, not the massive outcroppings that would form caves. It didn't feel right. She stopped and turned back, walking the opposite way along the rocks, her hands out guiding her. The wind whipped against the rock wall, bouncing back into her face, stinging her eyes as she squinted against its force.

Just as she was about to go back, her rope having run out, she saw the black hole against all the white surrounding her. She opened her eyes wide, hoping she was really seeing it and not just imagining it. There, a large hole opened up in the rocks. Her rope was tight, and she couldn't reach it to know for sure, but even if it wasn't Jessie's cave, it would give them shelter. She turned, her frozen hands gripping the rope, and made her way back to Bobby.

"I've found something," she yelled when Bobby was within sight. "It'll have to do."

She untied the rope around her waist and shoved it back in her pack, then slung it over her shoulders. "Come on."

She couldn't remember ever having been so cold. Her fingers were numb inside her gloves, and her feet felt like stumps as they walked against the wind, their heads bent as they followed her tracks.

"There," she said and pointed to the black hole facing them.

"I see it," Bobby yelled and they quickened their pace, pulling the skier between them.

They stopped at the entryway, both fishing their flashlights from their packs. They flashed the light around the room, then walked in and burst out laughing in relief. There, in the center of the small room, was a fire ring and against one wall was a pile of old, dried wood.

"Jesus, I can't believe it," Bobby said and his voice echoed against the walls.

"Neither can I. Come on, let's get a fire going."

They tossed their packs on the floor and quickly broke up the dried wood. Chris took some toilet paper from her pack and made small balls and laid it in the center of the ring. Bobby piled on small sticks and some dried bark and she set a match to it and soon the flame licked hungrily at the dry wood. Bobby laid on more, gradually building a warm campfire.

Chris took her sleeping bag and the blanket off of Kenny and pulled him closer to the fire. She nearly screamed when he spoke to her.

"Where am I?" he whispered.

"Jesus Christ!"

She found her flashlight and shone it in his face. He closed his eyes against the bright light, and she switched it off.

"We're Search and Rescue," she explained.

"Where's Michael?"

"He's fine. But right now, we've got to get you warm." She turned to Bobby. "Help me get him near the fire."

They pulled him as near as they dared, then she and Bobby stripped off their gloves and held their hands over the flames, ignoring the stinging as they warmed.

"I've never been this cold before, McKenna."

"I'm pretty much a popsicle myself." She looked to their injured skier. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Kenny. Kenny Walker," he said.

"What day is it?"

"It's Saturday... no, Sunday."

"What month?"

"I'm sure there's a reason for this?" he asked.

"What month?" she asked again.

"November and don't ask me the date. I always forget the damn date over the weekend," he said and offered her a smile.

"Good. Well, I pronounce you free of a concussion," she said, then turned to look at his face. He closed his eyes against the flashlight. "But you're probably going to need some stitches here." She touched the tender area around the gash and he winced.

"I must have fallen," he said. "I don't really remember. I got lost coming back. I was supposed to meet Michael back where the trail split."

"Don't worry about it now. We're going to be okay."

"I thought I was going to die," he said.

"You're damn lucky you didn't. It was just pure luck we spotted your tracks off the trail before we turned back," Bobby told him.

"He's right. I've seen hypothermia kill in a lot less time," Chris told him. She got out her first aid kit and began cleaning his wound. "Let me put a butterfly on this, then we need to get something warm in you." She felt his cheeks with both hands. "You're still too cold."

"Yeah. I'm starting to shiver," he said.

"That's a good sign. Your body's working again, trying to warm you." She turned to Bobby. "Put some water on to heat. I've got some tea bags in there somewhere."

She cleaned the gash on his head and put two butterfly bandages on to close it as best she could. Bobby filled one of their pots with water and set it on the small gas burner that he always packed and Chris filled another pot and set it near the fire. They would have tea first, then a hot meal. It was only then, as they busied themselves, that she thought to radio in.

"I better check in with Roger. He's probably out of his mind."

She opened her parka and reached for the radio, only to find the holster empty.

"Shit. Bobby, tell me you've got the radio," she said.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Shit," she said again. She let the beam of the flashlight zigzag across the floor, hoping it had fallen out in the cave, but she knew it had not. "I must have lost it along the creek. Lord knows I fell down enough."

She silently cursed herself. The last time she had talked to Roger, they were in a hurry to get going and she had failed to secure it in the holster. She had simply shoved it in without thinking. Well, it wouldn't do any good to worry about it now. There was nothing they could do. Hopefully, Roger wouldn't think the worst.

Chapter Forty-one

Jessie knew she was insane to be out in this weather, but she didn't want to spend the night alone. She crept through the deserted town, trying desperately to see through the snow. She had driven in enough snowstorms to know to look through the snow to the road or you would become hypnotized by the flakes as they surround your car, but she had never driven in a blizzard.

She passed the lodge at the edge of town, the parking lot full. Most of the guests were staying over another night since the roads heading back to the city were already closed. She slowed to a crawl as she approached the forest road that would take her to Annie's. Her four-wheel drive held as she made the corner, but the road was completely covered in snow and she tried to stay in the middle for fear of skidding off the side and getting stuck. She nearly took out Annie's mailbox as she turned into the driveway, her rear fender missing it by inches, and she pumped the brakes, coming to a standstill next to the house. She released the death grip she had on the steering wheel, and let out a relieved breath. She grabbed the overnight bag from the backseat, slammed the door and ran up the steps. Annie had the door open before she could knock and she hurried past her into the warm house.

"Jessie, thank God," Annie said. "You shouldn't have been driving in that. The radio says the roads are a mess."

"Well, they're not lying," she said as she took off her parka.

Annie took it from her and hung it on the coat rack by the door. "Sit by the fire. I'll bring you a glass of wine."