9
Down in the forest, about 200 feet away from my cave, a lone figure emerged from the timberline.
It was difficult to see him through the falling snow, but I was pretty damn sure it was the survivalist from the other day.
He was still wrapped up head-to-toe in furs, with a long fur cape trailing behind him – and he was heading straight for me.
I felt a moment of shock.
How does he know I’m here?!
The reason was obvious after only a second of thought: he could see the smoke from my fire rising up out of the crack in the mountainside.
He knew someone was up here.
But why approach now?
He’d run away from me last time – why run towards me? Why not just climb a tree or something like he had last time?
That reason quickly became obvious, too.
The figure was hobbling badly, putting all its weight on one foot as it struggled through the snow. It relied heavily on the long staff I’d seen him with the other day.
Somebody’d fucked themselves up. Climbing trees was probably out.
And the wolves’ howling was even closer now.
Shit…
I didn’t know this guy from Adam, but I couldn’t leave him out there to fend for himself. I wasn’t about to let another human being get torn to pieces right in front of me.
“OVER HERE!” I yelled at Survival Guy.
The figure flinched at the sound of my voice – and then started stumbling towards me again.
My rappelling rope was coiled up by the cave entrance. I quickly tied a slipknot in the end and created a loop that the guy could put around his body. I might be able to haul him up… maybe. The rope was thin and made for arresting falls, not for hauling other human beings up rock faces.
There was no way he was going to climb up the cliff face – not with that bum leg. And he wouldn’t be able to use the rope to climb hand over hand – not without knots tied in it. It was too thin to get a good grip.
I might have to go down there and get him.
Shit, shit, shit –
I scurried back into the cave and grabbed my boots, crampons, and ice axes. I didn’t bother with my jacket because there wasn’t any time.
I raced back to the opening and jammed on my boots, then hurriedly put on the crampons – just in case.
“COME ON, YOU CAN DO IT!” I yelled at the survivalist.
He finally made it to the cliff and looked straight up at me.
Through the driving snow, I could see him better than ever before. Well, as much as you could see a guy wrapped in furs from head to toe.
And I was right – the staff was a fuckin’ spear! I could see a pointed head on it, apparently made of stone.
This guy was hardcore for sure.
Although he was also stupid enough to let a sprained ankle make him wolf chow.
Most of his body was wrapped up, including a sort of balaclava made of fur that hid his eyes. But the hands were exposed –
And they were light blue.
The guy didn’t just have fair skin that looked slightly blue; he was actually blue.
Severe hypoxia had already set in.
Jesus, he made it THAT far with hypothermia THAT bad?!
Part of me wondered if it was even worth it trying to save him. He was a dead man for sure. Frostbite would kill him if the hypothermia didn’t.
And there was no way in hell he was going to be able to climb up a rope, not in the state he was in.
He was a dead man.
I should have just walked away…
…but I couldn’t leave him down there to be eaten alive.
As though on cue, the wolves howled even closer than before.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK –
I dropped the rappelling rope down, and it swayed in front of the survivalist.
He immediately grabbed onto it and tried to climb.
He gave it the old college try, but he just didn’t have the grip strength to pull himself up with something that thin. Hell, I didn’t have the grip strength.
But it amazed me nonetheless that his hands were still working. How the fuck was that possible, given the level of hypothermia he was suffering? Hands that blue should have been stiff and unbending.
“PUT THE LOOP AROUND YOU!” I yelled down as I pantomimed with my hands. “SIT IN IT!”
The figure looked up helplessly at me.
“PUT IT AROUND YOU – AROUND – GODDAMMIT, DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?”
No answer.
Of course I would get somebody who couldn’t understand me. Of course I would.
Now or never, Jack.
What do you do?
Walk away or go balls to the wall?
“Fuckin’ hell,” I muttered as I grabbed the rope and rappelled down.
The survivalist stumbled backwards in alarm and pointed the spear right at me as he gripped it with both hands.
Then he said something that might’ve been… I don’t know… Indonesian? Thai? Hawaiian? I couldn’t place it, but it definitely wasn’t a European language, Russian, or Chinese or Japanese, that was for sure.
“Halana! Ka sala oh mavakai!”
And the voice was high. It sounded like a woman’s.
I dropped my eyes down to the chest area and saw a very pronounced swell beneath the furs.
Holy fucking shit, it IS a chick.
A crazy, fur-wearing, Thai-speaking survivalist chick with hypothermia.
Fuckin’ A, I knew how to pick ‘em.
With the snow falling so hard, I couldn’t see anything through the slit in her balaclava, so I couldn’t judge her expression. All I knew was she shouted something else in her language and waved her spear in my face.
“Cut it out, I’m trying to help you!” I yelled. I turned around and gestured to my back. “Get on!”
She hesitated.
“The WOLVES are coming, goddammit!” I yelled at her – then remembered she couldn’t understand me.
I pointed at the trees. “Ah-roooooo – rawr, rawr!”
She backed up a step and looked at me like I was insane.
I felt like a fucking idiot and stopped making snarling noises.
“Okay, fuck you, then,” I muttered as I grabbed my
