| |
Snow continued to fall with no sign of stopping. When my alarm sounded, I checked the time, tried the phone with no success, and crawled into the tent. Tom's pulse and breathing seemed OK. He wasn't running a fever as far as I could tell. "Tom. Tom, can you wake up?" I kept talking to him and stroking his jaw until his eyes fluttered open.
"Is everything OK?"
"Let's see—stranded in a snowstorm, you've been shot, there are large wild creatures in the area, and a potential killer. Sure, things are swell."
"Sorry. Are you OK?"
"I'm fine. Look. I don't think you should move around much with that bullet inside. I can make a stretcher and try to pull you back to base camp but it's going to take time and jostle you around a lot. I don't think that's a good idea.
"We might be able to get a phone call through to Chance when the storm passes, but he'll still have to call someone in to help us. I think we should activate my PLB, but I wanted you to have a say since I know what happened when SAR had to rescue Chance."
"The chopper won't be able to fly in this storm. We're going to be stuck here for a while no matter what. Are we OK for food, water, meds?"
"I'll do an inventory. We should be good." I was worried about the pain meds and bandages, but I wasn't going to tell Tom that. "What's your vote?
"Do it," he said and was asleep again.
I fished through my pack and activated my PLB. I figured the blizzard might affect the PLB signal too, but the sooner I turned it on, the sooner we could get help. I dumped out both our packs on my sleeping bag and inventoried our supplies. We had plenty of food and, as long as I could keep the fire going to melt snow, we'd have access to as much water as we needed. We only packed small personal first aid kits. Tom had already gone through all the pain meds in my kit. His supply would last another day, but then we'd have to get creative.
We were short on bandages too. I was checking Tom's wound every four hours and would need to change it whenever it became blood soaked. For Tom's sake, I hoped help would come soon. My worst problem was being bored and cold. As long as I could keep the fire going, it kept the chill at bay. I arranged our supplies on my side of the tent, since I didn't plan on sleeping. I knew I'd doze off, but I hoped the espresso beans would help keep me alert until help arrived.
After gathering more firewood, I was thinking that I should use my time productively, but I didn't even bring along my ever-present notepad and pen. I walked around our campsite, listened for any sounds of creatures or people, and heard nothing. I use my pine bough broom to sweep snow off the rain fly before sitting down with my butt inside the tent, the rifle laying across my lap.
In a moment of inspiration, I took a selfie. When I had service again, I'd post the portrait of how I spent my Thanksgiving. How did I go from what I had always assumed was a fairly normal life in Georgia to this? I'd never heard of SAR teams until I moved to Idaho. Maybe we had them in the Georgia mountains, but I certainly had never been in a situation to call on them. Now, I was awaiting my second rescue in the few months I'd been in Wilkins' Gap. My wandering thoughts stumbled over Chance's business ideas. I really liked the Cryptid Coffee concept.
I remembered that Chance had given me a journal to record anything we saw. That idea had gone by the wayside when the shooting started, but now I had time to write down what I could remember. I also could use some pages of the book to make lists and write ideas related to Cryptid Coffee and the Cryptid Museum.
Now, that I had the journal, time passed more quickly. I couldn't believe it was still snowing, but the tracks Tom and I made were long buried before nightfall came around again. The bleeding had slowed when I checked his wound, but I still had to change bandages, and I was running out of material to use. I wanted to preserve the shirts he was wearing when he was shot as evidence, but if I got desperate, I'd cut pieces from the sections of the garments away from the wound. If I did that, I'd have plenty to get us through until help arrived.