He stared at her. “You could die out there.”
“You could die here.”
“You have a much better shot without me.”
“I need company.”
He appraised her with a shrewd look. “Liar.”
“Again, it’s non-negotiable.”
He pulled the blanket closer. “So what about option one? Who did you call?”
“You might not like it.”
“I think I’ll probably like it more than our current situation.”
“I’m not so sure.”
He creased his brow. “Now you’ve got me curious.”
“I called Rowan and a friend I have with the PPC.”
His mouth fell open somewhat.
“They’re both good people.”
“I didn’t know they made Badlanders and PPC types in that flavor.”
“These guys have saved me before.”
She pulled out her PRD from under the blanket. No response yet.
Gordon’s head sagged. He shifted his position and said, “Don’t let me sleep through the rescue.”
She rubbed her arms, then heard Gordon fall into the even breathing of sleep. Her breath plumed in the air.
Darkness enveloped them once more. The second night felt endless. Cold seeped into every pore of her skin, every drop of her blood. It sank into her bones, her brain, her spirit. She’d stopped shivering long ago, and pressed against Gordon for warmth. He dozed, in and out of consciousness, murmuring fitfully, waking up every now and then with a cry of agony.
A few hours into the night, he woke up with a start. “My feet!”
She carefully removed his boots to find his toes frostbitten. Hers weren’t much better, but at least she’d been able to stand up, do jumping jacks, and stamp her feet to keep her circulation going. With Gordon’s leg as bad as it was, he couldn’t do the same. She did her best to rub his toes to get the blood flowing again.
Snowflakes tinkled down almost musically, the snow growing deeper and deeper. The dead forest lay around them, eerily still. All she could hear was the blood thrumming in her ears and Gordon’s staggered breathing. A few times it grew so quiet that she could swear she heard the earth turning.
Her body longed to sleep, but she couldn’t let it. She had to stay awake, to watch over Gordon, to wake him up now and then. If she slept, she’d freeze, and they’d both be lost, along with any hope of saving the planet.
She gazed up at the clouds, imagining the clear, starlit skies above them, and farther out in space, hurtling steadily onward, that portent of doom racing toward the earth.
She pulled her knees up to her chin, while stamping her feet and rocking back and forth. Cold seeped into her mind and soul. The blizzard gusted beyond their shelter, the thought of it weighing down her shoulders and eyelids. It would be so easy to sleep. Maybe the Rovers already knew about the asteroid. Willoughby said they hadn’t given up learning. And the Rover bunker under Delta City certainly revealed that they knew a lot about science. Maybe they already knew, and had already figured out a way to stop it. She didn’t need to keep fighting. She could just close her eyes and sleep. Just for a little while. Everything would be fine. She could just lie down on that rock next to Gordon and sleep for an hour. Maybe two.
H124 jerked awake, unaware she’d fallen asleep. Fear coursed through her in a sudden wave. She stood up, peering out into a predawn sky. The storm still raged, the cloud level so low she couldn’t see much beyond fifty feet. Gordon moaned, coming to when she stood up. They’d made it through another night. But she doubted they could do it again.
She pulled out her PRD. No message from Rowan or Willoughby. Forty-four hours had passed since she’d sent the SOS. They had a few rations of MREs left, but they wouldn’t last long. If she waited here, they might never come, and she and Gordon would grow weaker as their food ran out. If Rowan hadn’t gotten the message, or if he couldn’t reach her, they could wait there until they died. He must not have gotten the message, because wouldn’t he have at least replied by now, even if he couldn’t make it? And what of Willoughby? Had the PPC figured out that he’d helped her?
“What’s happening?” Gordon mumbled, his speech slurred.
“What’s happening is that we’re leaving.”
“Rescue is arriving?”
“Yeah, and it’s us.”
“What?”
She looked around at the snow and rock, at the swath of splintered dead trees they’d knocked down in the crash. “I’m going to make a sled so I can pull you. All we have to do is get lower, down below the snow. If we stay up here another night, we’re not going to make it.”
“You can’t drag me down the mountain.” Gordon leaned forward, rubbing his arms. He cried out when his broken leg shifted.
She looked him in the eye. “I can, and I will.” Snowflakes cascaded down, catching in her eyelashes. “We should go now, while we still have some energy and MREs.”
Leaving the overhang, she returned to the plane. From the tail, she collected as much wiring as she could, cutting it with her pocket torch. Then she walked along the line of the crash, selecting the straightest branches that had splintered off, and had soon collected the makings of a workable stretcher. Returning to the dry overhang, she lashed them together with the electrical wire, using two longer pieces of wood as handles.
She was almost done when Gordon closed his hand around hers. “I appreciate what you’re doing. But you can’t. Go get help, then come back for me.”
She looked into his watery blue eyes, his kind face. “If I do that,” she said firmly, “you won’t be alive when I come back. Without sharing body heat, there’s no way either of us would have made it through the last two nights.”
He gripped her hand more tightly. “I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself for me. There’s no sense
