Chapter 11
“What the hell is going on?” Marc growled, the wind slapping little ice crystals against his face.
“Nick’s run into a roadblock with the Yukon police who aren’t talking to the contacts we had with the Canadian government. We’re…getting a helicopter pilot…Bart…former SEALs and Jude’s with him.”
“Luke, it’s already snowing here! White-out conditions. I can hardly understand you.” He turned to see Kendall hunkered down in the makeshift shelter he made at the edge of the trees and cursed. “Goddamnit, if it was just me, it’d be no problem, but she’s not used to this.”
“Marc…team ready by tomorrow morning. Nick and Monty…Alaska to see what’s going on…Jack and Patrick are in Louisiana. Bart…tomorrow…get a bird up and out…get you.”
Sighing, Marc agreed. “I think that was a good plan—what I heard of it. We’re gonna be safe and I’ve got a fire going so she’ll be warm. We’ve got some food, so we’ll be good if the storm lasts a day or so.”
Disconnecting, hoping Luke got most of that, he turned and hurried through the snow to the shelter they made. “Kendall?” he called out as he bent to push his way into the tent. “I’ve just talked to my contact and they’re working on a plan to get us out, but we’ll definitely be here through tomorrow.” He watched her carefully, but she just nodded, her expression full of trust. “We’ll be fine, I promise,” and with every part of his being, he meant those words.
“I was wondering about wild animals,” she said, hating to admit her fears. “Do you think we’ll be bothered?”
“Well, there’re mountain goats, bison, sheep, moose, deer, elk, foxes—”
“Oh, no,” she protested. “I’m talking about ones that might like to eat us!”
Marc had wanted to keep her mind off the dangers, but it seemed she was determined to ferret out the truth. Leaning forward, he nodded. “Okay, you got me.” Heaving a sigh, he admitted, “There are wolves and bears.”
“Grizzlies?” she asked, her mouth hanging open.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Although they should be hibernating this time of year, so we shouldn’t be bothered. But that’s why the food we have is in a metal box that is made to keep scents from getting out, but is also hung in a tree away from us.”
“Anything else I should be aware of?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as she viewed him from across the fire.
“Lynx, cougars, coyotes, wolverines, and timber wolves, but none of them should be a problem and, remember, I have two weapons and plenty of ammunition.”
“But I don’t know how to shoot a gun,” she confessed. “And what if you’re not around—”
“I will be. I promise,” he vowed, holding her gaze, willing her to lean on his strength. Needing her to in away he didn’t quite understand.
“I believe you, Marc,” she said, a slight smile curving her lips, her hands still out toward the small fire as she wiggled her fingers toward the flames.
He smiled in return, holding his hands out to the flames as well. Unable to help himself, he reached over and took her fingers, rubbing them briskly. The action was meant to keep the blood flowing, but the sparks he felt jolting through his body had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the sweet body across from him. His dick twitched at the thought of what her sweet lips could do. His gaze jumped to hers, seeing her pupils dilate in her wide eyes at their touch. Jerking his hands back, he cleared his throat, searching for something to say to cover his discomfort. Jesus, get a grip!
“Uh…I’m going to head out to take care of business. I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I’ll pick up some more fire sticks while I’m out.” Gaining her nod, he shrugged into his coat and zipped it up as he opened the flap and exited the shelter in haste, leaving her inside.
Stalking away through the woods, facing the ground to make sure where his feet were landing in the soft snow, he tried to let the cold air clear his mind and calm his erection. Disgusted with himself for his lack of professionalism, he threw his head back and yelled his frustration into the storm.
*
Kendall, surprised at his abrupt dismissal, clenched her fingers, already chilled now that he was no longer holding them. She unfolded her cramped legs and stretched them out toward the fire. Her toes were achy with cold and she debated taking off her boots to stick her sock-covered feet closer to the flames.
Deciding to wait until Marc came back and she had a chance to step outside one more time, she crawled on her knees, moving a few things around to make the most of their space. Tucking her things on the far side, she lay the sleeping bag on the blanket, folding the top back as though they were in a fine hotel. Rolling her eyes at her unnecessary touches, she pushed his duffle bag to the back, making sure all flammable items were away from the small fire.
Finishing that, she looked at her watch, noting that fifteen minutes had passed. Biting her lip, she wondered if he were having problems finding some dry sticks. She almost decided to go outside, but the thought of stumbling upon him as he was relieving himself immediately sent that notion right out of her head. I’m sure Mr. Outdoors can handle himself!
Setting a few more small sticks onto the fire, she watched it carefully, glad for the hot stones that circled the pit. Minutes ticked by and he still didn’t return. Fidgeting, she continued to stare at her watch, twenty minutes now having passed. Okay, if he doesn’t come back in five more minutes, I’ll go out and look for him. Jolting, she suddenly wondered if he had run into the people that were after them. Surely not. If his people can’t get through the storm to rescue us, then there’s no way they can…can they?
Five more minutes ticked by and Kendall could not wait any longer. She zipped her coat and pulled her gloves on. Tucking her hair up into her knit cap, she then wrapped her scarf around her neck. Opening the flap of the tent, she stared at the wind-whipped snow blowing outside and wondered if leaving the safety of the campsite was a good idea. I won’t go far, she determined.
As soon as she got outside, she was grateful the trees helped to keep the snow from piling too high, but noted the woods still all looked the same, blanketed in snow. Stepping out, she realized at least four inches of snow had fallen, but the drifts were much higher. Her glasses immediately became useless as the snow coated them in water droplets. Grumbling, she crawled back inside the tent and dug around in her purse. Pulling off her gloves, she found her contacts case and put them in. Blinking several times as her eyes watered and burned, she was reminded why she preferred the simplicity of glasses.
Crawling back outside she stood, ready to begin her search. Damn, everything looks the same! Taking off her red scarf, she tied it to the tree nearest their shelter, hoping it would serve as a homing beacon if needed.
Looking at the ground, she could still see the imprints of his boot steps in the snow and began to follow. Head down, both to track Marc’s steps and to keep the snow and ice from pelting her face, she continued, knowing she would be able to find her way back by following her own footsteps. The farther she walked, the more irritated she became. He was only going to take care of business—how far did he have to wander? Geez, it’s not like I was going to leave the tent to go watch him take a piss! Snow and ice stung her face and, without her scarf, she felt the biting, frozen chips hitting her neck and dropping down inside her coat. Frustration bolted through her as she kicked at the snow on the ground.
Suddenly her right foot slipped as the ground gave away underneath her. Grabbing a low hanging limb from a nearby tree, she somehow managed to keep from falling. Pulling herself back to safety, she looked over the edge of a ditch leading about five feet down to a frozen creek, the snow covered leaves hiding the edge from her view. Heart pounding, she clung to the tree, grateful not to have tumbled down the incline. Damnit! I should have been watching what I was doing!
Gathering her wits, she looked down at what appeared to be a large trench dug out of the snow leading toward the creek at the bottom of the ditch. Leaning over the edge for a better view, she clung to the tree trunk for balance. Gasping as she peered through the blizzard, she saw a large, dark object at the bottom of the ditch. Jumping back, her heart pounded at the thought of a bear. But it didn’t move. Would a bear be sleeping out in the open? Not understanding what she was seeing, she blinked several times, trying to bring the object into focus. Oh, my God…Marc! It’s Marc!
Without a second’s hesitation, she held onto the branch as long as she could as she scrambled down the embankment, slipping and sliding until she reached the bottom. Falling to her knees in the snow beside his still body, “Marc! Marc!” she screamed as she reached for him. Grabbing his head, her right glove came back red with blood. Panicked, she looked around before chastising herself, knowing there was no one to help. No one but her. Spots formed in front of her as her vision blurred, a panic-attack imminent. Gasping for air, she bent over his body, placing her forehead on his back as fear clawed at her stomach.
Forcing her body to still, she focused on the simple in and out mechanics of breathing. After a moment, as the oxygen made its way to her brain, she lifted her head slowly, relieved for her cleared vision. Looking back down at the rapidly snow-covered body of Marc, she closed her eyes as she tried to make a list of what she needed to do.
Think, think! Shit! What do I do? His chest moved up and down with breaths. He’s alive. The wound was not large and no longer actively bleeding. Gently shaking his shoulder she tried to wake him. “Marc… Marc, you’ve got to get up!” Nothing. Okay, okay. I’ve got to get him back. Looking up to the top of the ditch, she wondered how she would ever get him out. Rope!
“Marc, if you can hear me, it’s Kendall,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m going back to camp but I’ll be right back.” His hat had fallen off with his tumble and and she found it nearby, gently placing it on his head, careful of his wound.
Using the branch she had clung to, now bent partially down the side of the ditch, she pulled herself up and over the top. Stumbling as fast as she could through the snowy forest, following what was left of her footsteps, she ran back to the campsite. Diving inside, she huddled over the duffle bag, rummaging through until she found another bundle of rope. Unsure if it would be enough, she crawled back outside and untied a length from the tarp. Cursing herself for being so scatterbrained, she dashed back into the tent, wasting precious moments, grabbing the military-grade flashlight she had seen Marc use and shoving it into her pocket. Crawling back out once more, she noticed the evening shadows deepening and knew she had to hurry.
The snow created a blinding panorama, but she followed her footsteps from before. Thinking to make the path more visible when she returned, she began to drag her feet, creating a deeper trench in the snow. Coming to the ditch, she stopped at the tree, peering over the side to assess the situation. Her breath came out in frosty pants as her lungs screamed for air. If I get out of this alive, I’m joining a gym, she vowed, irritated at her exhaustion.
Standing in indecision for a moment, she looked around, hoping the answer to getting him to safety would just present itself. Damnit! Think, Kendall. Jerking her head to the side, she looked at the tree next to her and threw the end of the rope round the trunk, tying it securely. Taking the other end of the rope, she slid back down the hill, landing at Marc’s motionless body.
Bending close, she brushed the snow from his face, his eyes still closed. Panic again threatened, her hand shaking as she rolled him to his back. Maneuvering the rope underneath his back and up through his armpits, she tied it tightly around his chest before climbing back up the embankment.
Looping the rope around her arms before grasping the end, she pulled as hard as she could but her feet slipped on the snowy leaves causing her to land on her ass. “Damnit!” she screamed out her frustration. Scrambling to her feet, she stepped to the back of the tree, planting her feet against its trunk, using it as leverage as she pulled again. This time, she felt Marc’s full weight against the rope as he moved slightly. Pulling again, she realized he was only moving inches.
Cold, mixed with fear, clawed at her, feeling hopeless with each movement. Swallowing back the tears, she prayed as she grasped the rope and pulled again…over and over. With each heave, his body inched closer. Arms aching, she peeked over the side. Only halfway up! Oh Jesus! And when I finally get him up, how the hell will I get him back? Refusing to think about that, she focused on pulling on the rope one hand at a time. Just when she thought she could go no further, she saw his head and shoulders clear the top of the ditch.
With renewed effort, she continued hauling until his back was on the firm ground, only his legs still dangling below. Running over, she heaved him by his coat until he fully rested on the forest floor.
Falling by his chest, she checked his breathing. She lay her head on his shoulder as her lungs gasped for air. “Ke-nal,” she heard, jerking up to see his eyes blinking.
“Marc!”
“Wha…” he moaned.
“You fell…down a ditch. It wasn’t too deep but you hit your head.”
“You…gah…”
“I pulled you out of the ditch with some rope, but Marc, I don’t think I can drag you all the way back.” She held his face in her hands, brushing the swirling snow from his cheeks as she stared into his unfocused eyes. The night was falling fast and, soon, there would be no more light. I’ve got to get him back. “Please help me,” she begged, calling out both to him and to God. Untying the rope, she fumbled as she looped it over her shoulder.
His eyes blinked a few more times before staying open. “Hel…me…uh…” His head pounded but it was the pain in his ankle that shot through his leg, incapacitating him. Inwardly cursing his inability to help himself, he tried to sit up.
Squatting in the snow behind him, Kendall pushed on his shoulders as hard as she could, forcing him to a sitting position. He teetered, but she held fast, keeping him from falling back to the ground. “Come on,” she pleaded as she got her shoulder under his armpit and forced him upward. His considerable weight caused her knees to buckle and she scrambled on the slick path to find her footing.
Finally getting him to his feet, she attempted to help him take a step, but he dropped back to his knees, grimacing in pain.
Oh, God. His foot’s hurt too! “Marc, use me as your crutch. Hop on one foot and lean on me!” She had no idea if he was able to hear her, but he threw his heavy arm over her shoulders, nearly knocking her off balance once again.
With Marc hobbling and Kendall buried under his weight, praying every step, they slowly made their way back toward the campsite. The night had descended but with the powerful flashlight held in the hand she had wrapped around his waist and pointed toward the ground, she forced them along the path of her previous footsteps, now almost covered in fresh snow.
Staggering along the way, she blinked at the stinging ice hitting her face, her heart racing in a mixture of fear and adrenaline. “Marc? You still with me? Gotta hang with me. It’s not too much further. We’ll just go one step at a time, okay?” Rambling loudly with each step, she cursed as they stumbled. Without her scarf around her neck, the snow blew down the back of her jacket, making the cold even worse. Sucking in frozen air, she doubted her ability to go much further. Propping his back against a tree trunk with her hand pressing against his chest to steady him, she gasped for air for a minute before trying to continue.
The swirling snow, the dark night, the illumination from the flashlight bouncing in front of them, all created a kaleidoscope of fear, causing Kendall’s tears to freeze on her face. A flash of her red scarf, still tied to the tree in the distance, finally caught her eye and she yelled, “We’re there, we’re there!”
At the entrance to the tent, she tried to lower him to the ground, but he tumbled forward, landing with a thud just outside the entrance. Grimacing, she peeked inside, the fire still barely burning. The warmth of the structure hit her like a furnace blast and she turned back toward Marc, whose eyes were closing.
“Marc!” she shouted, causing him to open them again focusing on her. “Crawl inside.”
He tried to crawl as she kneeled in the snow, pushing and shoving against his ass, maneuvering him to the inside of the tent. He fell into a heap and she flopped down on the other side, every muscle screaming in pain as she panted.
After a few minutes, she opened her eyes to a completely blurry scene as they adjusted to the dim light and warmth. Once she had gathered her strength enough to crawl over to Marc, she peered down at his face. His eyes were once more closed as his chest heaved. “Marc?” she called.
“Yea…” he whispered.
She looked at the bruising on his temple, the dried blood crusted around the cut. “I don’t know what to do to help you. You hit your head. You said when I hit mine I might have a concussion. And there’s blood. And I don’t know what else you injured.”
“An…kle,” he said, feeling what little strength he had leave him as the warmth of the tent encircled him. Closing his eyes, he fought against the desire to sleep.
Sitting back on her heels, Kendall tried to decide what needed to be done first. He needs to get warm. He needs to rest. He needs water. I’ve got to clean the wound. He can’t sleep too long, gotta wake him up. Her list halted as she came up against a blank as to where to begin.
Unzipping his coat, she was grateful to see that his shirt was dry while discovering his pockets held a bundle of sticks. Turning back to the fire, she placed several of them on the burning embers, watching as they caught fire. Digging through the duffle, she found the first aid kit and brought out the antiseptic and bandages. Carefully, she dabbed an antiseptic cotton pad onto his wound before covering it with two band aides.
His eyes fluttered open once more, but only long enough for him to say, “I sor…ry.”
“No, no,” she hushed. “It’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you,” she promised, not having any idea how she was going to fulfill that oath.
Looking down at his feet, she began untying his boots. Pulling off first one and then tugging on the other, she heard him grunt loudly. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, trying to remove the boot gently. Rolling down the thick sock, she gasped, seeing the bruised and swollen ankle. Oh, God, is it broken? This needs more than a band-aide!
Cursing her lack of first aid knowledge, she rocked back on her heels, not knowing how to help him. Rubbing her face, she heard the wind whipping as the sides of the tent flapped. Remembering she had taken the rope from the tarp, she crawled back outside. Stinging snow pelted her body as she tried to remember how Marc had the rope before.
With frozen hands, she tied the rope back to the trees surrounding the tarp, securing their tent once more. Kicking the snow away from the ground, she gathered a few more sticks, hoping she would be able to keep the fire going through the night.
Crawling back inside, she sat, huddled in a ball, the adrenaline rush ending, leaving every muscle screaming with exhaustion and her head pounding. After a few minutes, the warmth began to penetrate and her cheeks stung with the change in temperature.
Pulling off her cap, she unzipped her coat and rolled it into a ball, placing it under Marc’s injured ankle. Staring at it, she looked at his swollen foot but noted it was not bent at an odd angle. Maybe that means it’s just sprained. Searching her memories for what to do with a sprained ankle, the only idea she could recall was to wrap it tightly. Digging through the first aid kit again, she pulled out a roll of elastic bandages. Moving to his foot, she wrapped the bandage around and around.
A grunt had her gaze jump from his foot to his eyes, seeing them open once more. She crawled over him until her face was near his. “How do you feel?”
Marc stared at the beauty, whose long hair was hanging down in a sheet, curtaining them both. He tried to remember who she was and if he had picked her up on the hike. “Whas your name?” his voice slurred as he reached out his hands and grasped her upper arms, bringing her face closer to his. Her red lips were plump and he wanted to taste them to see if they were as delectable as he hoped.
“Oh, Marc,” she groaned. “I’m Kendall…please wake up and remember.”
As he scrunched his face at her words, a sharp pain slashed across his forehead. Huh? His hands squeezed her arms for a second before he jerked his eyes open wide. Kendall? Dr. Rhodes? Fuck! What’s happened?
“Marc, you fell and hurt yourself. Please…you need to rest.”
His hands flew off her arms as though holding a hot poker. “Kendall?” he whispered. Reaching up, he touched the bandage on his pounding head, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Oh, God, I was about to kiss her!
“You fell and hit your head on a rock. You’ve been unconscious for most of the past hour,” she explained.
He blinked a few more times as her words took hold. He tried to sit up but pressure from her hands on his chest kept him flat on his back. “I need to get up,” he protested.
“Oh, no,” she warned. “You also sprained your ankle…or at least I hope it’s sprained and not broken.”
“Fuck!” he cursed, dizzy from the simple exertion.
Getting one of the water bottles filled with melted snow, she lifted his head slightly so he could drink. “Marc, I don’t know what to do to help you,” she said. “Can you tell me?”
“I probably have a concussion,” he surmised, angry at his weakened condition. “I’ve already gone to sleep several times, but you should wake me during the night, like I did for you, remember? Jesus, Kendall, I can’t believe this happened.” His mind was fuzzy but he knew he needed to try to stay as sharp as possible. “Is it still snowing?”
“Yeah,” she replied, adding another stick to the fire. “Are you warm enough?”
Nodding, he had to admit, she had done an amazing job of getting him comfortable. He glanced down at his foot and wanted to check it out but raising his head sent a wave of nausea through him. Closing his eyes, he willed the tent to stop spinning. Oh, shit…I’ve never failed at a mission before. The fear of what might happen in the night with him incapacitated made him just as nauseated as trying to sit up. Feeling a warm cloth on his face, he reached up and clasped Kendall’s hand as she wiped his forehead. Sleep was calling once more, but he managed to whisper, “Thank you,” before slipping off.