The mountain road was badly rutted, the snow in thick banks at the side. Jack peered through the screen, barely kept clear of snow by the windscreen wipers, blessing the fact that he was driving a four-wheel-drive vehicle. The Jeep wasn't new, but it was in good condition and well maintained. Maybe coming up to the cabin for the holiday wasn't such a good idea after all. He told himself not to worry. The cabin was well-stocked, there was plenty of gas for the generator and his hardened muscles testified to the logs he'd cut during the summer for the stove. Once there, he could hibernate if necessary.
The Jeep lurched sideways on a curve and Jack eased the throttle. Four-wheel-drive or not, if he went off the road he'd be in trouble. He wished the snow would stop, so that he could at least see where he was going.
Further up the mountain, Anne knew she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. Walking out on the shitty job at the lodge had been satisfying, but now she was in the middle of nowhere with all of her possessions in the back of her Honda, and she was scared, because the little auto was skidding all over the place. She thought she knew where she'd gone wrong, taking a right instead of a left, but that didn't help the fact that there seemed no way to turn on the narrow mountain road. There was a corner coming up and she knew enough to brake gently, brake early, but what she didn't know was that there was ice under the snow, just where she braked. The skid was slow motion, inevitable, unstoppable, the boulder-lined ditch waiting for the Honda. Anne braced herself for the impact as the little Honda slithered backwards off the road and into the ditch.
There was silence after the impact, a hiss of steam as the running water forcibly cooled the hot engine. Anne sat, shuddering, scared. She was alone on the mountain, lost, and nobody knew where she was. She'd told Sal on the phone that she would head for town, but that was the other way at the intersection, where she'd missed the turn. She fought back panic, and tried to open the car door, but the boulders stopped it after only an inch or two, and she couldn't move it further. Tears filled her eyes and she began to cry.
Jack was puzzled. He was convinced he'd seen tail-lights ahead through a gap in the snow flurries, but now they'd disappeared, and the snow had actually stopped for the moment. He slowed the Jeep even more and tried to look around. A shock ran through him as he realised the beams of the other car's headlights were pointed at the sky. Cautiously, Jack braked the Jeep, holding his breath for a moment as all four wheels locked, but he stopped safely. He set the parking brake, left the motor running, and climbed out.
The Honda was about twenty feet off the road, canted over at an angle, and Jack realised at once that if anyone was inside it, they were going to have a hell of a job getting out, because the car seemed to have settled down between two walls of rock. Not only that, but the little stream that ran through the ditch here had been blocked by the crashed car, and the water was beginning to rise.
Jack slithered down the bank, and tapped on the window. At first he thought the occupant had been injured, but the tear-stained face which appeared as the head jerked around at his tapping was alert and awake. The driver reached down and the window inched open. She, for it was a woman, stopped it after an inch or two.
"Are you all right?" said Jack.
"Yes, but I can't get out. The door's jammed."
"So I see. Can you get through the window, if I help?"
"I think so."
"Better do it soon, because your car's damming the stream and the water's rising. You'll either drown or freeze if you stay there."
"Everything I own is in the car," she said, her voice strained.
"Can you pass them out? Is there much?"
"My clothes are in the trunk," she said, and Jack made a wry face, because the icy water was already finding its way in. "I have some valuable stuff in here, but the rest will have to take its chance."
"Give me the key," said Jack. "I'll get the stuff in the trunk. You get the window down and be ready for me to help you out."
She said nothing, but passed him the key and he unlocked the trunk. The two bags were half-submerged in icy water, but he fished them out and put them on the bank, out of the way of the stream. When he turned back, she'd got the window open, and was kneeling on the seat. She passed a shoulder bag to him, and turned back into the car, passing out a portfolio case, and a camera bag. "What's left will have to take its chance," she said, "but those belonged to my husband."
"Okay, I got 'em," said Jack, and put the cases on a rock, turning back to the woman. She put her head and shoulders through the window, holding out her arms. Jack braced himself, one foot against a convenient boulder, the other behind the front wheel of the Honda. He braced himself, tugging, and she slid awkwardly through the window. Jack felt his foot slipping, and desperately tried to keep his balance, but his foot slipped and he fell backwards, against the boulder, the woman slipping from his grasp and sliding into the icy water. She scrambled to her hands and knees and crawled up the bank, kneeling, crying. Jack moved up and took her arm.
"Get in the Jeep," he said, opening the door for her. He reached in and turned the heater control onto full, and then helped her into the passenger seat. She was trembling, and even in the dark of the snow-filled night Jack could see her face was pinched and pale. "I'll get your things into the car," he said. "Don't let yourself fall asleep."
Hurriedly, Jack put the sodden bags into the back of the Jeep, the shoulder bag, camera bag and the portfolio onto the back seat. He closed the doors and ran round to the driver's side, climbing in quickly and shutting the door. The woman was shivering violently, startled as Jack touched her arm. "My cabin is about another mile. Stay awake, I'll get you there as quickly as possible."
She managed to nod, and Jack got the Jeep moving again, still moving cautiously. Relieved, he spotted the sign at the roadside and turned onto the track, virgin snow crunching under the Jeep's tyres. The cabin was only a minute's drive along the track, even in the snow, and Jack drew up as close as possible to the door.
"Hang on here for a moment," he said. "I have to get the generator going. We need electricity. There's an electric shower, and you're going to need it. Two minutes, and I'll be back. Okay?" She managed a nod, and he got out, quickly closing the car to keep the interior warm. His cold fingers fumbled with the lock for a moment, but he got the lean-to door open against the drift half-blocking it, and slipped inside. There was enough light from the loom of the snow, and he was familiar with the controls, so it was only moments before the motor fired, and he adjusted it to a steady roar. A little fast, on the cold setting, but once it warmed up he'd adjust it. First priority was getting the woman out of her wet clothes and under a hot shower.
He went out and back to the Jeep, opening the passenger door. "Can you walk?" he said.
"I don't know," she said, trembling violently. "I'll try."
Shock and cold were getting to her, and Jack helped her out of the car. He felt her starting to fall and scooped her up, carrying her to the cabin, fumbling with the door. He managed to get light switched on, blessing the generator that he'd really only installed so he could use his computer, and carried her to the couch, letting her slump back.
"You must get those wet clothes off," he said, and her hands moved feebly to the fastening of her coat. "Sorry, lady, but I'm going to have to help you," he muttered, beginning to unfasten her coat. She was wearing a thick sweater, wool skipants, and walking boots, and he managed to get her out of the coat, bending to remove her boots. The skipants defeated him for a moment, until he remembered how Jenny's had fastened, and he slid them off. She had managed to raise the hem of her sweater, but only to her waist, and he pulled it off over her head. All she had on now was a thermal vest, and her underwear and socks, and Jack left those. It was more important to get her under the shower. "Back in a moment," he said, "I have to get the shower going. We've got to get you warm." She nodded and he ran to the bathroom, switching on the shower, starting the water flowing. He checked with his hand under the spray. Yes, it was warming up. He hurried back,and stopped for a moment, surprised. She'd managed to get the thermal vest off, and was in the process of removing her bra, awkward because her trembling hands couldn't manage the catch at her back.
"Leave it," said Jack. "Come on, under the shower." She tried to stand, but he picked her up again and carried her into the bathroom, but she was in no shape to stand. He put her down on the toilet seat. "Just hold on a second," he said. "I'm going to have to get in there with you, or you'll just collapse." He stripped quickly to his undershorts, feeling the goosebumps rise in the cold air. He pulled her to her feet and carried her into the shower, under the now hot spray, feeling the delicious warmth going through him. The woman was trying to stand and he let her, holding her shoulders, letting her lean against him. He made sure the spray was getting to her, and began to massage her shoulders.
After a moment or two, she sighed, and straightened. "I think I can manage now," she said over her shoulder.
"Okay, stay in as long as you can bear it, because I have to get the stove going, or we'll both freeze. Once I get it going, I'll warm a towel for you. Okay? I'll be as quick as I can."
"Thank you."
He didn't linger, grabbing two towels as he went out, rubbing himself hard as he dried, shivering, dragging on his thick shirt and trousers, thick socks. The stove was ready, kindling placed, and it took on the first match. He closed the front, for the moment, and hung the fresh towel on a rail he'd rigged for that very purpose. The fire was his next priority, again ready, with kindling placed and it, too, took on the first match. He went back to the stove and checked the towel. Warming, but still a little cool. Hell! Clothes! Did he have anything? Maybe. A wool shirt that had shrunk, and a pair of cotton corduroy trousers that had been too small from new, never worn, somewhere in the back of the closet. He went into the bedroom and searched them out. A sweater, too. Underwear she'd have to do without, for the moment. He went back and checked the towel on the rail again. Yes, warming nicely. He went back to the bathroom and opened the door a little.
"I've got a warm towel for you, if you're ready?"
"Yes, please."
"I'll just get it." It was the work of moments and he opened the bathroom door. And stopped dead, turning away and holding the towel out behind him. "Sorry," he said, "next time I'll knock." He felt her take the towel from his hand and moved back to the door. "I've got some clothes warming. They'll be too big for you, but they'll do until we can get yours dried. Okay?"
"Okay. Thank you."
