I heard crunching footsteps to my right and a second later she appeared through a break in the trees, her arms wrapped around her body, a shirt tied over her hair in a makeshift hood. She had what looked like black plastic over her shoes and tied around her lower legs. When I looked down, I saw that I did too. As Audra drew closer, I saw that her cheeks were rosy with cold and there were dark circles beneath her eyes as though she hadn’t slept much recently. Of course she hasn’t. When she spotted me, she made a beeline in my direction, approaching me quickly. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t be up.”
“Had to pee,” I said, my bladder thrumming again and reminding me of my overwhelming need to relieve it.
“Oh.” She pointed off behind me. “I’ll wait here to make sure you’re all right.”
I nodded, heading deeper into the trees, then I lowered the waistband of my pants—and peed, almost groaning with the relief. When my bladder was empty, I lowered my pants further, needing to see my leg. I pulled up whatever Audra had used to tie the material being fashioned as a bandage and then peeled back what I could now see was a pair of Audra’s underpants. For a moment I just stared at my leg. Jesus, she’d . . . she’d stitched me up? I released a long, slow breath, my heart squeezing at the thought of her sitting in the deep snowy silence and stitching my leg while I lay unconscious. If not for her, I’d be . . . Audra. My God. My head was swimming, and not just with the concussion I surely had.
What had she endured?
The stitches were slightly crooked, but evenly placed, a large knot at both ends. My skin was pink at the edges of the wound and oozing a bare bit of blood, but mostly, it looked good—clean and uninfected. I replaced the bandage and pulled up my pants, returning to where Audra still stood near the opening of the spot we’d apparently been sleeping in for the past few days. “You stitched me up,” I said, my voice holding the awe I felt.
She nodded. “There was a piece of metal embedded in your thigh. You were bleeding . . .” She let out a shuddery breath. “You were bleeding so much. I washed it out with alcohol first and then used a sewing kit. I did the best I could. I was shaking and so . . . so cold.”
I stared at her for a moment, horrified that she’d had to do what she’d done—and alone. But . . . proud. God, the feeling flowing through my body right now was pride . . . in her. “Thank you.”
Our eyes held for a moment and then she nodded, whispering, “You’re welcome.”
“Tell me everything,” I said.
She released a breath. “Okay, let’s go sit somewhere.”
**********
“Those fucking birds,” I murmured after she’d given me her account.
Audra made a sound in her throat. “I thought we were going to die.”
“But we didn’t.”
Her eyes met mine. “No. Not yet anyway.”
I released a breath. “We’re not going to die. They’re going to find us.”
“Can you remember where exactly the damage to the back end of the plane started?”
“The whole back end is torn off starting behind the second row of seats.”
I swore softly and then groaned. “The black box, the part that can be tracked, was in the back of the plane. I imagine no one’s been able to get a plane in the air to search for us because of the storm. We just have to hope that black box isn’t too far from where we are because wherever it is, that’s where they’ll be searching.”
Audra’s chest rose and fell on a big intake of air. “How long do you think?”
I shook my head. “I wish I could say. We don’t have a way to look at the weather report.” I squinted at the sky. “The cloud cover today would make it damn hard to conduct a decent search.” Shit. “Let’s hope for tomorrow or the next day at the very latest. We have enough food and water. We’ll be okay. And you built a damn good shelter. Today we can work on it a little bit more.”
Audra groaned. “Two more days? God.”
“I’m not thrilled
about it either, but I’m glad to be alive.”
She nodded her head jerkily. “Me too.”
“All right then, let’s get that shelter of ours as airtight as possible and then we’ll have a delicious dinner of pretzels and watered-down soda.” At that, she smiled. It was gentle and soft, but what made it so incredible was the faith I saw in her expression.
She trusted me.
Something that had once been my greatest pride and joy.
Something I never thought I’d see in her eyes again.