"I need another blanket," Susan muttered. "This is ridiculous." The walls of the young woman's tent rippled against the light wind and she shivered under her blankets as the cold settled densely around her. The constant light snowfall pelted her tent with muttered pattering sounds. Susan peeked over the edge of her covers to watch her small tent sway. She could feel the cold somehow reaching through the blankets to seep into her and her bones ached from it. She weighed her options. On one hand, she felt like she could survive well enough with her parka, clothes, gloves, hat and four blankets. Going outside meant opening the tent and letting the sparse heat out. But, on the other hand, she had another thick comforter in the back of her Subaru. Susan shifted on the thick padding as she considered.
"The beach," Susan said, her voice muffled by covers. "Hot tea just brewed. Oh, hot coffee. That's a good one. Walking into a bakery during winter. Fireplaces. Summer. In Florida. Aw, man." Susan wriggled from beneath her blankets and gasped at the sudden sharp hardness of the surrounding cold. Once she'd pulled on her boots, she unzipped the double lining to her tent and moaned as the wind wrapped its invisible arms around her. "J... just a little... oh Jesus. Just a little..." The ground and trees around her were covered with thick, smooth snow. The sky was the color of a dark bruise and she could barely see through the distance. A small part of her whispered in fear that she didn't know which direction she was parked but she was sure she'd faced the tent towards her car. Mostly sure.
Susan set off, crunching through the snow as lightly as possible. She used small tree trunks as handholds when she passed them and occasionally tested the ground when she wasn't sure about her footing. While this wasn't her first camping trip in the Northern Cascades, it was her first in winter and her first in this spot. She was fairly certain the area had no drop-offs but she wanted to take no chances. Silvery moonlight occasionally lit her way when the clouds parted enough to allow light through.
This is taking too long,
she told herself.
I should be at the car by now and I can't even see it.
Real fear started setting in as she paused to look around. Her feet ached in her boots so she tried to move her toes.
Through the near silence of the forest around her she heard the sound of a car engine. Susan's heart leapt in relief.
If there's a car coming then that means the road is nearby and the turnoff should be close,
she told herself. Susan tucked her arms into her armpits and hid her face. She couldn't see the road but she decided to angle slightly to the right. With a low howl, the wind picked up and snow flurries thickened. She could feel her ears burning in the hood of her parka. The light from the car flashed and then vanished as it took turns and went over hills. It sounded louder but-
Suddenly, the vehicle was in front of her. Susan had a moment to make out a large pickup truck with a small snowplow mounted on the front. She squawked and stepped back. Susan's brain registered the soft snap of thick, semi-solid snow breaking but it was too late. Her eyes caught the startled eyes of the driver as she fell over backwards. Too slow, she pulled her arms from her sides and flailed at the tree next to her but she was already falling. Tumbling and turning through the air, she tried to scream but the cold stole her breath. Her life story did not flash before her eyes. She said no prayer and formed no coherent though. Over and over in her mind she thought,
I'm falling! I'm falling! I'm falling! I'm-
The ground appeared suddenly and violently and she mercifully couldn't remember the impact. Susan woke to herself gagging and, when she coughed, she tasted blood. Her head spun violently when she opened her eyes so she closed them again. Her whole body was in pain but it seemed to radiate from her left side. Every time she breathed in, she winced. Susan rolled to her right and groaned as her left side sent waves of nausea down her body. She forced her eyes open to look.
"F... fuck." Susan groaned. A rib. A rib was halfway out of her left side. The blood soaking it was shockingly red in the sudden harsh moonlight and Susan wanted to throw up. "Wait... just... wait..." Wisps of steam spiraled above the wound and the cold burned her. Far above her she heard a voice call out but she couldn't make out the words. Susan slowly reached for the rib and then touched it gingerly. It moved and she felt the tip of it digging deep within her. With trembling hands, she pulled and the bone came out. Susan hissed through clenched teeth at the feeling of it moving through her flesh. Now, with the bone out, the pain in her side lessened and she rolled to her back. She'd made a small snow crater when she hit the ground and she now lay within. She felt tired. Susan held the bone above her eyes, squinting through the pain to look at it. It was old and pocked with small holes and dark with age or dirt. "Not... not... not mine. Hah. Haah."
Susan's numb right arm dropped to her side and the bone tumbled away. "Pretty," she whispered. Snow whirled above her in the semi-darkness. She couldn't feel the cold much anymore. Someone was yelling and crashing around but all she saw was the delicate dance of the snowflakes as they fell ceaselessly from the sky. Her breath melted smaller flakes as she talked quietly. "Warm... warm showers. Hot pockets straight from the microwave. Gross but so good. Hot tubs. The sun on... on... on..." Susan's eyes slowly closed and the world winked out around her.
-----
She was falling again. All around her were trees reaching and pulling at her but she felt the weight of gravity and she was falling. Susan gasped, suddenly awake. Lights. Lights and a weight on her chest. And noise. And smells. But lights. So bright. Old springs groaned under her weight as she shifted, wide eyed. The dream still clung to her.
"Hey, whoa whoa. Hey," a voice told her. Susan looked to her left and winced at the movement. A young man walked quickly toward her. Susan grabbed the blanket and pressed herself against the corner of the wall. The man had both of his hands up in front of him as if showing her that he wasn't a threat. He was tall and had a light beard over fair skin. His hair was brown and curly and there were a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He wore a loose, green long sleeved sweater and an old pair of blue jeans. "Don't- hey, don't move so much. You're hurt. I'm a park ranger. I saw you fall."
The man pulled a simple wooden chair from a small table and brought it over to her bed. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked her.
Susan shook her head slowly. The man was handsome in a rugged kind of way and, despite everything she'd been taught growing up, she felt immediately relaxed. His eyes were kind and worried. His voice was smooth and low and comforting; she had thoughts of her father holding her in his arms, rocking her to sleep. Still, she held herself tight and close to the wall. Men were men and she'd left her innocence back in her teenage years. The man sat carefully, five feet away from her.
"How-" Susan's voice caught on the words. Her mouth was incredibly dry. She swallowed but still her tongue clicked against the inside of her mouth.
"Oh, crap, hold on," the man told her. He walked away from her to a small kitchen at the opposite end of the cabin. "I'm Chris, by the way," he yelled as he filled a cup with water. "Well, Christopher but I go by Chris." Susan eagerly drank the ice cold water when he returned with it. A sudden cracking, popping noise made her choke on her water; base thoughts of branches cracking as she fell made the fear return. But, rational thoughts returned and she realized the man, Chris, had a fireplace warming the cabin.
"How long have I been here?" She asked .
