Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

JESSE

J esse stared at the landscape, trying to process this development. “Snowed in?”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “Nearly a foot fell overnight and there’s more on the way. We can’t risk moving right now.”

She shivered and Chris noticed. “Get dressed. I left your clothes in the sleeping bag.”

She dug around and found them, quickly pulling them on. Her shoes, which they’d left to dry near the fire, were still damp. Mark handed her two plastic bags to don over her dry socks.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said.

He pointed to their right. “Don’t go too far from the tent,” Mark warned as she climbed out between them. “We’ll look away, but if you go too far you might get lost. Toss snow over it. That way’s downslope from us. We’ll get snow to melt for drinking water from the other side.”

“Okay.”

She did just that, shivering by the time she returned to the tent. “No coffee this morning, huh?” she joked.

“Afraid not,” Chris said. “The camp stove, coffee pot, and mugs were on the mules.”

“And the coffee,” Mark said.

“Hey! I have instant!” She dug into her pack and held up the envelopes. “How about this?”

“We don’t have a way to warm it,” Mark said as he took one from her, “But we can drink it cold.” He dumped it into his water bottle and swirled it around until it looked like it all dissolved. Then he took a sip. “I’ve had worse,” he joked as he handed it to her. “But it’s something.”

She took a swig, wincing, but she agreed it was better than nothing. She passed it to Chris, and the three of them took turns drinking. Mark reached to their left, grabbed more snow, dumped it into the water bottle, then set it in front of the fire with the other two water bottles, but not close enough to melt the plastic, to melt the snow.

“Probably not a great idea to use more of that until we’re ready to move on,” Mark said. “Don’t want it working against us.”

“What about breakfast?” she asked.

He handed her a piece of a protein bar, one of theirs. “At this rate, our food can last us six days.”

She stared at him. “ Six days? You think we’ll be stuck out here that long?” Her heart hammered in her chest as she truly started processing their situation.

Mark slung an arm around her and it felt right leaning against him. “I hope not.”

“Are we going to die?” she asked.

“No!” Mark said, hugging her closer. “Don’t think like that.”

She stared into his face a moment before looking at Christopher. “Well?”

He winced, but at least he was honest. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I hope not.”

“Dude, what the fuck ?” Mark yelled, making her wince.

“I’m sitting right here,” she said, trying to turn her ear away from him without losing contact with him.

“Exactly, she’s sitting right here, Chris!” Mark said. “Why worry her?”

“I won’t lie to her,” Chris said.

“I wanted honesty,” she told Mark. “And I knew my fellow sparkly vampire unicorn would tell me the truth.”

Mark’s weighty sigh worried her. “Don’t give up hope.”

“I’m not. But I’d rather the outcome exceed my expectations than have my hopes dashed.”

“ That ,” Chris said.

“Besides, it’d really suck to die and not even check one single kinky thing off my sexual bucket list,” she added, trying to lighten the mood.

That made Chris laugh. “If we’re stuck here long enough, feel free to tell us some of those things. Maybe we can help.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she snarked back, feeling relieved when Mark chuckled. “What do we do now? Just sit here and wait?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Mark said.

“Guess playing ‘I Spy’ will get old real fast,” she said.

“‘Two Truths and a Lie?’” Chris suggested.

“Hey, you’re both scientists,” Mark protested. “You’ll bury me. Give me a fair chance.”

“Technically I’m an engineer,” she noted. “But what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know.” He stared out at the snow. “Anything to take our minds off this.”

CHRISTOPHER

If it was just him and Mark, he had an easy answer for what they could do to kill time.

All kidding and wishful thinking aside, he didn’t want to alienate Jesse and make the next couple of days more uncomfortable.

Before she awakened, he and Mark held a whispered conversation about the depth of how truly fucked they were.

Unfortunately, this situation realistically had non-zero chances of killing them, but their odds still looked pretty good.

For now.

“Could you try to make the cabin by yourself and I stay here with her?” he asked Mark.

He shook his head. “No. We’re not splitting up. I don’t even know if it’s accessible now. Not to mention my map was on the mules.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. I know if we keep heading west we’ll hit a road even if we lose the trail. I’d rather stay here and start a signal fire once it stops snowing. That would be our best chance if we can’t get out.”

“How long before they start looking?” Chris asked.

“Depends on if the mules show up without us before the permit expires. Sam will sound the alarm as soon as they do, but they can’t fly choppers until the weather clears.”

Once Jesse woke up Mark shushed him.

Now they sat there, staring at the snow and making small talk, Jesse between them.

“Why’d you become a botanist?” Jesse asked him.

“Well, my dad wasn’t happy when I surprised him with the news that I wasn’t spending the money he gave me for college on a law degree, but to become a botanist.”

“When did he find out?” she asked.

“When he showed up for my graduation and learned I was ‘studying plants’ and not accepting a pre-law degree.”

She winched. “ Ooooh . Why was your father against you becoming a botanist?”

“Money, plus his idea of the great outdoors is driving through Central Park with the windows cracked.”

“Then how did you end up with a love for the outdoors?”

“We had this great lake home we never went to. He and my uncles and aunts inherited it when my grandfather died.”

“Why didn’t he go?”

“Because my grandmother—Dad’s mom—drowned there when he was a kid, and he witnessed it.”

She winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah. The only reason I got to go was because I was eight years younger than my next older brother, and no one at home wanted to deal with me during summers. One summer, I spent my whole vacation there, while the different aunts and uncles and cousins rotated through their scheduled stays. I didn’t go home for almost three months.”

“How’d you manage that?” she asked.

“I was happiest with my nose in a book and studying plants. And since I was pretty low-maintenance, everybody was fine with me joining them. I learned how to draw sitting in the yard, copying leaves into a notebook. One of my uncles and aunt took me shopping, and they bought me sketchbooks and colored pencils. Their daughter was three years older than me. She taught me the basics because she could draw well. Although our subject matters drastically differed.”

“What’d she draw?” Jesse asked.

“Unicorns and manga. I was okay with the manga but I wasn’t into the unicorns. Artistically I appreciated them, but aesthetically they didn’t interest me.”

“Aww, you totally should rock a unicorn hoodie,” she teased. “One of those with the ears and horn and rainbow mane and everything.”

“Oh my god, please don’t egg him on,” Mark begged. “He’d wear one just to irritate me.”

“See?” Christopher said with a grin. “I do have hobbies. Annoying him is one of my hobbies.”

“It’s his favorite hobby,” Mark said.

Christopher’s grin widened. “True story.”

JESSE

Despite her mom’s death, Jesse felt grateful for the support she’d had her whole life. “When did you learn you were neurospicy?”

“Not until middle school. ‘Gifted but doesn’t apply himself and easily distracted’ in the house,” Christopher joked, bumping fists with her. “But it made sense in retrospect. Lots of pieces clicked into place.”

“I’m feeling outnumbered,” Mark snarked.

Chris reached around her and poked him in the shoulder. “You lucky devil, you,” he said.

The snow fell heavier and she retreated to the depths of the tent, snuggled inside the sleeping bags. The men took turns gathering wood and tending the fire, and they spent time talking punctuated by long, comfortable silences.

She made another journey out to the makeshift potty area, and when she returned the three of them sat inside the tent. A few minutes later, she realized something.

“I’m so hot,” she said, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “Oh, my god! I’m dying, aren’t I? This is that paradoxical undressing that hypothermia victims do, isn’t it? I read about that!”

Chris laughed and pulled the hat off her head. “No, honey. It’s about sixty-five degrees in here, between the fire and the three of us. You need to shed a couple of layers before you start sweating. It’s called ‘you’re lucky you’re stranded with two guys who are good at survival.’”

Now she processed that both he and Mark had ditched their jackets and vests and caps at some point.

She also felt like a dumbass. “Oh.”

“That’s also thanks to the reflectors and insulating the tent walls,” Mark added. “That reminds, me we should grab more wood while it’s still light.”

“That’s what she said,” Jesse quipped, making both men laugh.

She started to get up, but Mark stopped her. “I’d prefer you stay in the tent.”

“Why? I can help.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier to stay warm than to warm you up again,” Chris said. “And you shouldn’t expend the extra energy.”

Then it hit her. “Because we’re rationing food.”

The men exchanged a grim glance but nodded. “Yeah,” Chris said. “That’s the biggest reason.”

Once she was alone, she realized how damned quiet it was. The soft patter of the snow on the tent, the water that almost killed her rushing in the nearby creek, the sound of trees swaying, creaking, the wind.

Being alone allowed her to…contemplate the situation.

I might really die out here.

In Jesse’s conscious memory, she never in her life willfully thought, much less said the phrase, “ I want my daddy .”

But there she was, sitting there, staring into the fire, and thinking over and over again, I want Daddy.

If for no other reason than to hug him and reassure him yes, she did love him.

And to call him Daddy again, the way she had when she was little and her mom was still alive. She didn’t know when she’d transitioned from calling him “Daddy” to “Dad,” but now she thought maybe she was better able to understand some of her former schoolmates who used to annoyingly talk about “Daddy” this and “Mommy” that when they were a grade or two—or more—ahead of her, sometimes even five or more years older than her.

Now she got it.

I miss Daddy. I want Daddy.

Hell, she even wanted Josie.

If I survive this, I’m giving that woman a freaking long hug and telling her I love her, too.

Because while she loved Josie she realized she might not have always shown it to her in a way her step-mother’s neurotypical brain recognized as such.

Please, let us get out of this safely.