Jack came around slowly, head spinning, body hurting in a thousand different ways. His ears were ringing and he couldn’t open his eyes. This nearly caused him to panic before he pried them open, glued shut with freshly dried blood. He didn’t think he’d been out long. Adrenaline still hummed in his veins, his heart beating so hard his chest hurt. He squinted around, trying to get a sense of where he was and what had happened. He shifted onto his knees and hissed in pain, a sound he couldn’t hear through his still ringing ears. There was broken glass all over the cabin floor. Technically the cabin ceiling. The plane was upside down. He was kneeling on the roof, looking up at the console above the broken windshield, through which snow was sliding.
Calder was still in his seat, unconscious and hanging from his seat belt. At least, Jack hoped he was unconscious. He tried to shout for the other man, but wasn’t positive he actually succeeded. He couldn’t hear anything but the ringing right now. He struggled to get up, failed, took a moment to actually look himself over. He didn’t see any serious wounds. A bad cut on his scalp, bleeding into his eyes. A lot of bruises. He must have slammed his head though.
He dragged himself closer to Calder, reaching out to touch his face, feel for the pulse in his throat, shaking with relief when he found it. They were alive. It wasn’t saying much right now, but it was better than the alternative.
Looking past Calder for the first time he grimaced at the sight of the holes torn in his fuselage. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d lost a damn wing entirely. But the radio still worked. They’d be fine, as soon as this ringing stopped and he could hear well enough to make a call. He shook his head, realized that was a bad idea as his neck screamed with pain and the edges of his vision crowded with darkness, threatening to knock him unconscious if he tried anything that stupid again. But his hearing was finally clearing, going from ringing to static to a strange rumble. He frowned at this, until a very familiar crack made him realize what he was hearing.
“Calder,” he said, and this time he heard his own voice, rough and strained with fear. “Calder, wake up.”
Calder was already stirring and at the sound of his name his eyes opened. He reached for his head with a groan, then seemed to realize he was upside down, fumbling for the belts in confusion that rapidly became intense fear, babbling terrified curses as he struggled to release himself.
“Calder,” Jack said, and when the other man didn’t respond, he tried again louder. “Calder! Calm down! You’re all right!”
Calder looked at him with wide, wild eyes, breathing fast and panicked.
“Take a deep breath and hold it,” Jack said. Calder tried to say something and Jack snapped at him. “Now!”
Calder held his breath.
“We don’t have time to panic,” Jack said as slowly as he dared, though his heart was hammering. “We need to get out of this plane as fast as possible.”
“What’s happening?” Calder asked, releasing the breath in a shaky rush.
“Listen,” Jack said, and saw Calder go still, listening to the rumble, the distant cracks, his expression uncomprehending. He looked to Jack for an explanation and Jack licked his lips, trying to stay calm.
“We landed on an ice field,” Jack explained. “This time of year, it’s usually frozen pretty solid, but the impact fixed that. That sound is the ice breaking up. We’re lucky it didn’t give out as soon as we hit. We’ve got a chance, we’ve just got to move fast and calm, okay?”
“You’re bleeding,” Calder said.
“I know,” Jack replied. “I’ve also probably fucked up my neck. But we’re not worrying about that right now. Priority one is getting out of the plane, all right?”
Calder nodded, slow and stiff.
“Okay,” Jack said. “Can you undo your belt? I’m going to get under you and catch you.”
Calder reached up to work on his buckle and Jack moved under him, trying to shield him from the worst of the broken glass.
“It’s stuck,” Calder said, a note of panic in his voice. “I can’t get it loose.”
“Stay calm,” Jack said. “Just hold still and breathe.”
He moved slowly back toward the fuselage, relieved when he saw what he was looking for quickly. He dragged the pack of supplies closer, detaching the safety sheers from their d-ring on the side of the heavy-duty canvas bag. He turned back to Calder and reached up to slice carefully through the belt. Calder fell and Jack caught him, lowering him down as carefully as possible.
“How do you feel?” Jack asked. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Sprained my wrist maybe,” Calder said, examining himself. “I think I’m fine.”
“Then we’re even luckier than I thought,” Jack said and, giving into a whim, pulled Calder close enough to kiss the top of his head, giddy with relief. “Let’s get out of here. Move slowly and stay calm.”
He grabbed the supply bag and used it to knock the loose glass away from the windshield, climbing out slowly. He kept a hand on Calder’s shoulder as he felt for the ground under the snow. There was about a foot of fresh snow above the slick surface of the ice. Outside the plane, the whiteness stretched unending all around them, with no way of telling what was ice and what was simple snow. Behind them, the mountain rose cold and unforgiving. But there was stone among the evergreen bushes and stunted trees of the foothills, which meant solid ground and maybe some cover from the wind, which was fierce across the flat ice field.
He felt his way forward slowly, testing as far as he could before letting go of Calder. He heard the ice groaning and another crack, and saw the backside of the plane sink.
“Out, quickly,” he said, holding out his arms to Calder, who hurried to climb out, clinging to Jack for support in the uncertain terrain.
“That way,” Jack said, pointing back toward the mountain. “Slowly.”
They began to move, Jack’s heart hammering, the groaning and cracking getting louder all the time.
“Stay low,” Jack said, keeping an arm around the other man. “Don’t pick your feet up.”
“What do we do if it breaks?” Calder whispered.
“Don’t think about that,” Jack replied. “Just focus on now. We’re almost there.”
They were about halfway between the nearest stone and the plane, which was slowly sinking into the ice behind them.
Calder yelped and dropped suddenly, Jack’s grip on him all that kept him from going through the ice that had collapsed below him. Jack carried them both down to the ice, splintering below them, and lay flat.
“Roll!” he shouted and did so, though letting go of Calder for even a second felt like betrayal. He rolled across the ice on his side, dispersing his weight as much as he could as he headed for firmer ice. He paused when things felt more solid to look back and make sure Calder was doing the same, just in time to see the rest of his plane swallowed by the ice. Ann sunk slowly, the back end tipping up and sliding in ahead of the front. He heard the metal groan as the nose rose into the air before the ice below it gave way and it joined the tail end in the water.
“God damn it Ann,” he muttered, rolling on to his back. “Son of a bitch.”
He put his hands over his face, the chill of the ice slowly seeping through his clothing. He heard the crunch of snow as Calder crawled closer to him.
“You all right?” Calder asked.
“I’m very tired,” Jack replied. “Everything hurts. And my god damn plane just sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It sort of is.”
“Yeah, it sorta is.”
Calder reached for him tentatively, then aborted the gesture. He still looked very pale and afraid.
“I’m sorry too,” he said impulsively, recognizing how close he’d come to never being able to do it. “For not working as hard to rescue Avery as I should have. For lying to you.”
“Thank you,” Calder said, taking a deep breath. “I understand why you did it.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, and sighed, relieved.
“Can we get off the ice now?” Calder asked.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed, taking a deep breath and pulling his hands away from his face. “Hands and knees till you get past that rock.”
Calder began crawling past him and after a minute Jack followed, still dragging the supply bag behind him. They reached solid ground without further incident. As they stood up and dusted the snow off their pants, Jack looked out at the shattered blue hole in the ice where his plane had gone in and sighed. It would be frozen over again by tomorrow morning. He might be able to retrieve the wreck in spring, but it would probably cost more than the plane was worth to do it. Ann was gone.
“What do we do now?” Calder asked, shivering beside him. Jack hefted the supply bag on his shoulder, relieved that he’d grabbed it before they left the plane. That gave them some options in the short term at least. But beyond that, Jack wasn’t sure. He stared out at the ice where his plane had died and tried to think of an answer. The outlook was pretty bleak. He shook it off, taking his own advice. Focus on the moment. Worry about the future later.
“Find shelter,” he said. “Get warm. Rest.”
He turned his back on the ice with great effort and began limping back toward the mountain. Calder followed in silence, trusting that Jack knew what he was doing. Jack wished he had that much faith in himself.
They found the cave not far away, a shallow pocket just big enough for them both to sit with their backs to opposite walls, feet together. It was close enough to the ice field that Jack had to assume the water and rain had worn it out. It was probably flooded during spring, but right now it was dry and empty. Jack told Calder to wait outside at first while he pushed out the accumulated snow inside and took a lighter to the cracks and crannies to scare out any hibernating snakes or insects. When he was sure the place was safe he spread a tarp from the bag on the floor of the cave, followed by a sleeping bag which, unfolded, completely filled the small space. Once Calder was inside he tacked up a second tarp over the entrance with climbing pitons to start trapping heat. The two tarps usually accompanied a tent which, unfortunately, had not fit in this bag and so had been left in the plane. Other things that wouldn’t fit in the bag included a camp stove or firewood. Not that there was space in this little cave for a fire anyway. But there was food, water, bedding, and a first aid kit.
Jack lit up a can of sterno for the heat and a hand powered lantern for light. They huddled together as Calder cleaned and bandaged the cut on Jack’s scalp.
“So how long do you think it’ll be before they find us?” Calder asked, spreading gel disinfectant on the cut. “I mean, the plane had GPS, right?”
“A couple of days,” Jack replied, wincing at the sting. “Assuming the GPS is still broadcasting.”
“There’s a chance it isn’t?” Calder asked, hands pausing on the bandages he was preparing.
“Remember the mountain was blocking most outgoing signals,” Jack reminded him. “Chances are that control lost track of us before we started flying over the ridge. And now the GPS is God knows how many feet underwater. It’s not impossible that they’ll be able to locate it, but it’s kind of a long shot.”
Calder swallowed around a lump in his throat and finished sticking the bandage over Jack’s cut.
“You’re probably going to have a scar there,” he said.
“Damn, you think so?” Jack asked, reaching up a hand to touch the bandage. “I always wanted a badass scar or two. There’s a couple of guys on the base with real nasty scars. Where they got them changes every time you ask. It’ll be good to have one with a proper story.”
“I think it’ll look pretty good,” Calder said with a thin smile. “Very action movie hero.”
“Hey, maybe if we survive this I can get a movie deal and launch my acting career,” Jack suggested with a dry, tired chuckle that made his neck stab with pain.
“So, what do we do?” Calder asked, looking around them.
“Stay put.” Jack leaned back against the cold wall with a tired sigh. “Conserve food and energy. Try to stay alive until someone finds us. We’re not up the damn mountain, so our chances are better than they could be of being spotted and rescued.”
“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, try to find some way to radio for help?” Calder asked, looking a little desperate. “There must be someone who can help.”
“Not for hundreds of miles in any direction,” Jack said, securing a loose corner of the tarp with a rock. “Our best bet is just to wait.”
“What about Avery?” Calder blurted out, and it was clear he’d been holding it in. “You said yourself that he’s still alive out there! He could be close! We can’t just sit here waiting when he could be just on the other side of the ice field waiting for us.”
“And what exactly would we do if we found him?” Jack asked a little impatiently. “If he even is still alive, he probably needs immediate medical attention and an airlift. If we exhaust our already limited supplies hunting him down, all we’ll be able to do is die with him.”
Calder shut his mouth tight, lips pressed close together. Jack could tell how badly he wanted to argue, but he knew it wasn’t the time for it.
“Let’s just get some rest,” Jack suggested. “It’ll be dark soon anyway. Let’s get our strength back and think about it tomorrow.”
Calder reluctantly agreed and they both lay down to rest their battered bodies. Heads on the supply bag which lay against the furthest wall of the cave Jack still had to keep his legs pulled up to avoid his feet sticking out through the tarp. They slept with their clothes and jackets on, sharing a single large blanket. In the small space it was impossible not to lie touching one another, so they didn’t bother pretending. Lying with Calder’s back to Jack’s chest, they shared a little more warmth and hoped it would be enough to get them through the coming cold night.