Coming Home

[grizz]

I thought for a while that it was Susan and Bud , bringing Munin?? the raven and that the raven had stolen a headlamp, sensed Einar and was flying over to him. that would be hard on the nerves

[FOTH]

Oct 26, 2013 21:32:33 GMT -6 grizz said:

I thought for a while that it was Susan and Bud , bringing Munin?? the raven and that the raven had stolen a headlamp, sensed Einar and was flying over to him. that would be hard on the nerves

Muninn with a headlamp! That would have been something... Not the kind of reunion Einar would be hoping for, I'm sure, though it would be good if there were some way for that bird to rejoin them.

Oct 25, 2013 20:36:23 GMT -6 icefire said:

A couple of guys running a trapline, perhaps? Although, since they're running at night, it seems more likely that they're a couple of poachers running a trapline...

That could very well be...

Thank you all for reading!

______________________

Standing together in the snow as they scrutinized the distant light, Einar and Liz looked for a pattern, trying to understand the potential purpose of two men scouring the canyon rim in the darkness. None of the likely answers seemed good ones, not when it came to their situation at the cave and in the canyon, as all carried risk of having their tracks seen, followed, their location exposed. Einar wanted to leave. Take the small packs they’d brought with them, pick up and leave, never look back. And do it without any delay, before the men on that far rim could have any more time than had already been allowed them to become curious, start to puzzle things out and maybe even radio in about their discoveries, depending on who they were and what might be their original purpose for stalking the snowy high country so late in the night.

So much to lose if they were to walk away…hundreds of pounds of by-then frozen moose meat hanging in the trees, nearly the entire contents of the drop bag, the potential of shelter and security there in one of the well-hidden caves to whose elevation they had at last managed to climb—but so much more to lose, potentially, if they did stay, and were discovered. The light had not moved for some time, and when Liz reached down and took his hand, he realized that she’d been repeating a question, waiting for his answer.

“Do you think they’ve seen our tracks?”

“Can’t say for sure. Just can’t say. Didn’t appear to stop at the place where we came down over the rim, but they had to cross it, no way around that. And would have almost certainly seen our trail. Now whether they paid it any attention or not…”

“I guess that would depend on their reason for being up here, wouldn’t it?”

He nodded silently, still staring at the light, which remained unmoving. “Know you’re not gonna like to hear it, but how about we clear the area real quick?”

“You mean leave the canyon?”

“Yeah.”

“But the meat…”

“No good to us if they follow our trail, find it, maybe set up an ambush down there…”

“If they were out to ambush us, do you really think they’d be giving themselves away with that light? Surely if they were part of some search, they would have turned that off at the first sign of us, gone quiet, maybe even called in a helicopter or something. I don’t think they have anything to do with us, really.”

“Maybe not. But that could change. Even if they were up here for some other reason initially, seeing the tracks might change that.”

“But we’re so far from the search area. No one knows we’re here. Surely we wouldn’t be the first thing on someone’s mind, even if they had seen our tracks! They wouldn’t have any particular reason to be interested or concerned.”

“Well, we hope no one knows we’re here.”

“How could they?”

A long silence. "Roger, Bud, Susan...things happen."

“Bud and Susan didn’t even know where he was taking us.”

“No.”

“Well, whoever they are, at least they won’t have been able to see our fire, the way we’ve got it hidden down in the cave. So we ought to be safe here for right now. Even if they took some kind of interest in our tracks, fact is they didn’t follow them, they stayed up there on the rim doing whatever it is they’re doing with that light. And it’s too dangerous for us to try and move in the night anyway, up on this cliff face. So how about we watch them until they’re out of sight, then spend the rest of the dark hours tucked away in this cave, deciding what to do. Good plan?”

Einar wasn’t sure whether it was a good plan or not, fighting the fever with all he had but feeling as though he was losing, losing alertness, losing the ability to consider all the factors and make a quick decision which would be best for his family, losing his grip, and silently, swaying, hand on the trunk of a limber pine in a bid to say upright, he prayed, wordlessly pleading for protection, for wisdom, for things to start making sense again.

Instead of making sense—prayers are seldom answered immediately or exactly as we might have had in mind, though always with a timing more perfect than we could have ourselves imagined—they took on a decidedly less defined look, swirling, swaying as the ground went out from under Einar, and he fell. Might have gone over had not Liz been there to catch him, but she was, hastily dragging him back out of danger, away from the sheer wall of rock that dropped away below their lookout, and up into the safety of the small cluster of pines that concealed the cave entrance.

The snow, she thought, ought to wake him, its good clean chill seeping up through his clothing, but it did not, and for a time she debated between getting him quickly back inside where he could stop losing warmth, and watching the lights until they vanished, but it did not take her long to give immediate priority to the lights; it was exactly what Einar would have done, and she would have hated to have him wake and ask about the progress of their unwelcome nighttime visitors, only to be forced to explain that she had given up watching, in order to get him inside. That would not do, so instead she rolled him quickly to one side and slid a few pine boughs beneath him by way of insulation, draped her coat over him and returned to her vigil.

The light was moving again, more slowly this time and in a different direction, men doubling back, it appeared, in their own tracks, heading back for the spot where Einar had first spied them.

[FOTH]

Liz watched as the distant light bumped and swayed out across the canyon rim until finally it went out of sight behind a timbered rise in the ground and was gone, men never stopping, never pausing to investigate the place where they must have once again crossed the little family’s trail, and Liz hoped this could be taken as a reassuring sign that whatever their purpose up in the high country, it had nothing to do with a search of any kind. She had to hope. In any case, the light was gone, and when after watching for a good fifteen minutes more she saw no sign of its return, she decided she’d seen enough, turning to Einar and once more attempting to wake him, but without success. His fever appeared to have gone down a bit, face and side of his neck quite icy to the touch when she checked, but clearly the silence into which he had fallen was somewhat deeper than dozing, and guided by the light of a near-setting moon she worked to get him back into the cave.

Difficult job, rocky and low as was the entrance to that place, and she ended up going in first and dragging him a bit gingerly by the shoulders, not wanting to further injure his damaged arm or to delay his hoped-for return to consciousness by bashing his head on a rock.. Succeeding at both aims she finally reached the little chamber and eased him over to the remains of the fire, which despite being so long neglected, still glowed a faint red.

Will, thankfully, still slept, and working quickly Liz brought the fire back to life, confident that even should the men on the far rim make a return, they would not be able to see even the slightest glow from those flames. Might smell the smoke, might have seen it, had the moonlight been bright enough, but with the moon near setting and a strong, gusty wind picking up, this worried her little. Soon, fire crackling happily and its warmth once more beginning to fill the cave, Liz searched the place for a handful of fist-sized stones, setting these to warm in the coals as she worked to roll Einar’s upper body onto a mattress, of sorts, which she had made from their two packs. While the pine boughs they had earlier put down did something to insulate him from the warmth-robbing chill of the rock floor, the packs, she supposed, could only help improve the situation.

Still no sign of stirring from Einar, and though worried, Liz also found herself a bit thankful that at least in his current state, he could not insist they pick up and depart, flee the area in the night, leaving behind all the moose meat they’d worked so hard to butcher and secure in the trees, not to mention the entire contents of the drop bag, save what they’d carried with them on their backs… This, at least, would give both of them some time to think the situation through, to come up with a plan which would hopefully both keep them secure against any threat represented by the two men on that snowmobile, and prevent the loss of all their supplies, so early in their sojourn in this new place.

Rocks thoroughly heated, Liz used sticks to remove them from the coals, wrapping them in spare socks and placing them close to Einar—under his arms, around the small of his back where they would warm the blood passing through his kidneys—so that they could begin to thaw him a bit. Between the rocks and a proximity to the fire which he would almost never allow himself when awake, she knew he’d end up a good deal warmer than he had been in quite a while, by the time he did finally return to alertness. Knew he might not like it much, but that could be dealt with later.

“And in the meantime,” she spoke aloud, sorting the things she’d removed from her pack before using it as a mattress,” maybe this will actually do you some good. You think? Since it seems to be the only way you can get any real rest, right now… I do wish you’d go ahead and wake up though, because you really need some more Oregon grape root tea for your arm. Got to get rid of whatever infection is causing you this trouble, and I don’t really have any better idea as to what its source might be. Guess I should look at the arm again while you’re out. Can do something for that, even if you’re not ready to take the Oregon grape internally.”

The arm, when she got it eased out of his sleeves and into the firelight where she could inspect it—not an easy task, Einar’s limbs somewhat stiff and inflexible, seeming to fight her a bit even in unconsciousness, though she knew this was not likely—did not look too bad, inflammation appearing to have gone down somewhat since the last time she had checked it, in the canyon that morning. She took the opportunity to bathe the wounds in Berberine solution and apply fresh dressings, Einar never stirring during the process. Well. Let him rest. Not much else she could do, really, but if he was to remain in that state for the rest of the night, she really wanted him in the sleeping bag, and unzipping it all the way down she did her best to roll him in, replacing the now-cooling rocks with fresh ones and easing her own sleeping bag over beside him, unzipping and overlapping it so warmth could be shared.

At least, she thought to herself as she crawled in between Einar and Will, the cave did a lot to keep temperatures from dropping too low. While the low fifties is pretty cool if one is simply sitting immobile all day in barely-adequate clothing, it sure feels warm in contrast to the below-freezing weather and wind outside. Didn’t take much to heat it, either, at least not the small chamber in which they found themselves, and she could not help but recognize the advantages of staying in such a spot, at least until the coming of spring. Except for the fact that Einar would consider the area to have been compromised by those men on the snowmobile—and the fact that he might be right.

Probably not good to stay so near the canyon rim, anyway. If people sometimes explored its far side, what was to say that they might not venture over onto the one that hung some two hundred feet above their current position in the cave? Anyone poking around up there for long enough would be sure to smell their smoke if not see it, a situation which would be inviting disaster. They would never be able to relax in this place, not even to the degree they had done at the cabin—which had not always been terribly significant!

No, they must move on from this place, find something more secluded, and probably the sooner, the better. Well. It would not be happening that night, and much as she would habe liked to stay awake and puzzle through their entire situation, plan a mode of transport for the moose meat and study the map until she found a place for which they reasonably ought to head, Liz’s weariness finally got the better of her, and she slept.

In the night Einar’s fever left him, body still too exhausted to respond, too low on resources to allow him to wake, but he, too, slept a sleep which was deep and good and which was to be much appreciated, come the morning and the things it was to reveal

[FOTH]

Squinting into the daylight, Einar crouched just outside the mouth of the cave, waiting for his eyes to adjust and hoping his still somewhat dazzled eyes were playing tricks on him. Could be, as they felt all crusty and heavy, only able to open about halfway after a night which he was sure must have left him rather thoroughly dehydrated, despite Liz’s efforts, and he pressed a lump of snow between his hands, waiting until it was hard and icy with most of the air squeezed out before sticking it in his mouth. Snow eased the dryness that had been sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, helped his thirst some, but did not, unfortunately, change the sight that greeted him on the far side of the canyon.

The towers—three, in all—were somewhat under twenty feet tall, not particularly substantial and reminded him at first of the sort one might see in the backyard of a ham radio enthusiast, but the antennas were all wrong, were not, in fact, something with which he was at all familiar, even when he held his breath to steady things down, and studied them with the binoculars. A distance which he estimated to be just over two miles stood between the two outlying towers, third one roughly centered between them and all perched rather precariously on the canyon rim, as if in a bid for maximum range. He’d seen enough, at least for the moment, easing back into the dark security—false security, and you’d better be thinking of a way out of here without too much delay—of the cave. Inside, Liz had lit a candle and was in the process of building a morning fire, coals from the previous night having finally finished dying. With a gentle hand on her arm, he stopped her.

“Can’t have a fire this morning. There’s something you need to see.”

“What I need to see is your arm. Let me get this going so there’s more light, and then I’ll have a look. How is it feeling this morning?”

She tried to put a hand to his forehead to check for fever, but he dodged to the side. “Arm’s fine this morning, everything’s fine with that. It’s the towers that are the problem. Three towers over there on the canyon rim, and I know it had to be the guys with the lights last night, because…”

“Hey, listen. I don’t know if you remember it, but you spent most of the night passed out because of that fever, and while I’m so glad it seems to have left you this morning, let’s just take things slow for a while. Give yourself some time to adjust to being awake again, alright?”

“No, probably not alright. Not until we know what those towers are about. Don’t recognize the antennas they’ve got on there, don’t know if they have anything to do with us, but we sure can’t be sticking around too long to find out.”

“What antennas? I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I wish you’d sit down and drink some water.”

He handed her the binoculars. “Go have a look, and you’ll see. Those guys on the snowmobile last night…well, now we know what they were up to.”

While Liz was gone, Einar packed, working by the light of a single candle and doing his best to get all their bedding efficiently rolled, stowed and ready for travel. The food he left out, knowing Liz would be wanting some breakfast before their departure. Where they would be going, he was not sure. Assuming the towers held some sort of monitoring equipment which might conceivably detect their presence, the wisest course seemed to have them heading quickly back down into the canyon where terrain would prevent its working, but how to get there without leaving them exposed on the way was a thing that would need some puzzling. He wasn’t even entirely sure that there existed another way down that did not involve retracing their steps through the draw by which they had ascended. Oh, there would be other ways, were always other ways, but in this case, they might require a good deal of rope.

Maps spread on the cave floor Einar studied them, looking for options, looking to buy some time should the appearance of the towers herald something more immediate to come. Did not appear to be too many options at all, as far as leaving the little shelf which held the entrance to their current cave. No going up, for sure, not without some serious climbing, and while traversing might have been an option, the map told him that they would likely as not end up cliffed-out and forced to descend to a point near the canyon floor, if they were to try it for too far. Down, then, back down the way they’d come, and he’d have to hope the narrowness of that rocky, timbered draw would do enough to shield them from any threat posed by the towers and the instruments they might support.

Liz was back, and looking pale in the candlelight. “What are those things? They weren’t there yesterday…”

“I don’t know what they are, and have no way to tell if they’re involved with any sort of renewed search…but you know that we have to assume they are. Have to get out of here.”

“But the drop bag, and the meat…?”

“I don’t know. But since the only good way out is down, we’ll be back down in that area before we head off to wherever it is we’re going. Can pick some things up on our way by, if it doesn’t look like anyone else has been around there, yet.”

“It’s happening again, you think? The search? I don’t see how they could have found us!”

“Don’t know that it’s happening again, but if we let our guard down, and it is… Got to find another place. Cave would have been snug and dry against the weather, would have given us a real good head start on keeping warm through the rest of the cold weeks, but at this point, it’s just not worth it. Maybe never was, I don’t know. Could be I was thinking wrongly to ever bring us here to the rim, where people might be expected to explore now and then, and near caves that might be known by others.”

“I don’t know. It’s a pretty remote-looking place. Where do you have in mind for us to go, if we can’t stay here?”

A long silence, Einar securing the sleeping bag under his pack and stashing most of the food in Liz’s, leaving out only a few pieces of jerky for breakfast. “Don’t know yet, I’m sorry to say. Still working on that one. On the map, looks like there’s an area of real heavy timber up beyond the head of this canyon, and if we can get there while staying out of sight of those tower-things, I think that’s where we ought to head.”

[FOTH]

Picking their way carefully down the draw which had the day before led them to the cave-ledge, Einar and Liz kept diligently to the timber, wary glances cast at regular intervals towards the strange devices on the canyon rim and ears—especially Einar’s—sharp for any hint of approaching aircraft. The descent passed fairly uneventfully, no tracks in the gully to indicate that anyone had been scouting the area in the night, and, best as they could tell, no further activity on the canyon rim, either. Maintaining a reasonable speed was not proving an easy thing for Einar even on that steep downhill slope, head still thick and confused at times and body dragging from the lingering effects of the previous day’s fever, but driven by the uncertainty of their situation and the need to find a better place of concealment he surprised Liz by leading then down to an area just above the canyon floor several hours before midday.

Resting briefly against the smooth trunk of an aspen he studied the opening expanse of terrain below them, scattered aspens casting their winter-bare shadows over low-growing clusters of serviceberry and scrub oak but this fairly open ground rapidly giving way, down where the shallow creek meandered quietly between its banks of ice, to the dense thickets of willow and red osier dogwood which had two mornings prior concealed the moose. Einar did not want to cross that open ground, searched for a path which would allow them to keep to the heavier timber until they could lose themselves beneath those willows, but could see none. Squinting up at the spot where the canyon rim ought to have been he could hardly see that, either, trees obscuring its lines and he taking some reassurance from this fact.

Nodding to Liz he pushed himself wearily away from the aspen, trotting from one cluster of brush to the next as he quickly traversed fifty yards of more open ground and disappeared into the willows. Liz was at his side within seconds, automatically turning to watch their back trail when he stopped, scanning what he could see of the ground ahead. Could not see far at all, which under the circumstances proved every bit as reassuring as it was distressing, for neither could they be seen. Unless someone was watching from up on the rim, using motion or heat sensing instruments—or perhaps some combination—to track their every move. For the moment he pushed the thought aside. They had decisions to make.

“Pretty sure we’re only about a ten minute walk from where we left the moose and drop bag. Want to go pick some things up before we head up the canyon, and out of here?”

Yes, of course she wanted to do that, did not, in fact, want to leave at all until they’d found some way to take the entire contents of the drop bag and as much of the moose as they could reasonably carry, but already she could see that Einar’s focus was going to be speed, lightness, a quick evacuation of the canyon. She nodded. “Yes. Better take whatever we can.”

“We’ll have to go slow, make sure there’s no sign of anyone having been around there. Good thing for the snow. We’ll see tracks, if they have been. Don’t want us to get separated just now, but I need to go out front, really look for sign.”

Liz nodded, silently following when Einar took a snaking path off through the willows, heading for their previous camp, for the place where they had worked so hard to butcher the moose and hang its meat and hide securely in the timber. Instead of making straight for the spot Einar led them on a wide, circling path which crossed the creek, circled far around the moose cache and up onto the hillside before finally he had assured himself that no one had been in the area since their departure, closed the circle and headed for the hanging-trees, Liz thinking all the while that he was acting just like a wolf investigating a trap, and that it was probably a good thing, too.

Meat, hide and bag were exactly as they had been left, a fact, they both realized on seeing the plethora of coyote tracks in the snow beneath the trees, which could be attributed only to their careful stowing of the goods far out of reach of creatures which had not been blessed with the ability to either climb or fly. Lowering first the drop bag and then one of the moose quarters, Einar and Liz worked to load whatever they could into their packs. Frustrated at the limited space in her small pack, Liz emptied everything out and started again. Einar was intently focused on hacking frozen chunks from the elk quarter and stuffing them into his pack, never even looked up when she stopped work, so she had to interrupt him.

“How about we just take the whole drop bag? We managed to get it all the way down from the canyon rim without anything worse than a near-disaster, so surely we can move it to wherever we’re going, now…”

“No time, Lizzie. We’ve got to make this move quick, get to someplace a whole lot more secluded where—hopefully—we’ll be able to keep an eye on the canyon and see if this business with the antennas seems to have anything to do with us, and a wider search, or not. Then, after we’ve proven to ourselves that it doesn’t and that the place is still real quiet, we can come back for things. Our trail is the other problem. That bag leaves a real noticeable trail when we drag it through the snow, and I don’t know about you, but it’s a heavier thing than I can carry on my back, just now.”

“Me too, with Will there. But how about if we lash it to a stout tree trunk, maybe a willow or something else light and sturdy, and carry it between us? Then nothing drags, we aren’t slowed down too much, and we don’t have to abandon the supplies that were going to help us get a fresh start out here.”

Einar did not immediately answer, pondering as he continued working on the moose. “Could work, and would solve the track problem…but it would really slow us down. Change how we could move, especially on steep slopes or in heavy brush like those willows. And if we did run into trouble and have to take off we’d be leaving it behind, where someone who might be pursuing us could find it and see just who we were, what we’d been doing and maybe even who had been helping us…doesn’t sound like a real good risk.”

“Yes, those things could happen, but there’s always a chance that someone could find it if we leave it here, too. It might slow us down a little, but I think we can manage, especially if we keep the stick fairly short so we can go around corners and through the brush more easily. Chances are everything will go fine, and we’ll be glad not to have left most of our supplies behind, once again. And if it doesn’t work out, we can always find another place to stash the bag, somewhere along the way. That might be better anyway. Because we’d be splitting things up, not leaving all our eggs in one basket…”

A frustrated sigh from Einar, who was out of good arguments and already scanning the nearby willow thickets for a good pole. Sounded like they would be giving the idea a try.

[FOTH]

Much as that drop bag weighed with all its contents, Einar knew they might have been better off finding two stout willow poles rather than one, and carrying the thing liter-style. This, though, would serve to further restrict their movements, as well as keeping both hands occupied rather than just one, a major disadvantage should they unexpectedly run into enemies on the trail. One stick it would be, then, and they’d just have to see how it went, both carrying the weight and navigating the sort of terrain that lay ahead of them, burdened with such a potentially cumbersome load. Keeping close together as they searched, neither wanting to risk being separated from the other in that dense thicket and with the unknown threat of those newly-built towers hanging over their heads, Einar and Liz spotted it an nearly the same moment, a long, straight willow pole which ought to prove adequate to their purpose.

Liz held while Einar cut, using his knife to fell the willow and remove its branches so they were left with one long, straight pole. The work of lashing the drop bag in place then began, Einar making use of its own straps to secure it in place. Ready to test the system, he took his place at the front of the line—had to keep an eye on things up there, at least starting out—and Liz prepared to lift her end.

“Ok, let’s give it a try.” He spoke softly, as if half-convinced that someone might be listening. “If it works alright, let’s go ahead and get moving. Been here way too long.”

Liz nodded, lifting at his signal, a bit of a struggle getting things coordinated and then they were moving, willow pole bowing precariously but not breaking, strong, supple and definitely up to the task. Movement was difficult at first, Einar misjudging the length of the pole and trying to go too tightly around a corner so that Liz was left doing her best to avoid being mashed against a tree or a cluster of brush, but gradually they adjusted to the arrangement and began coordinating things a bit more smoothly, stumbling less often and beginning to make better time. Better, certainly, than Einar had been able to make while dragging the bag behind him, sled-style, as he’d done up on the rim, and without doubt better than they would have been able to manage if attempting to drag it through the tangled willow and dogwood brush that matted the canyon floor.

Feeling slightly more confident with every step they took further from the caves, antennas and the strange men who had come in the night, Einar would have happily kept trudging ahead until they’d put the entire length of the canyon behind them, reached its head and climbed up into the dark timber which he believed—and the map somewhat confirmed—ought to be awaiting them there, but after nearly two hours of solid walking, Liz called a halt beneath a small stand of fir trees that crowded down close to the creek. She did not like the way Einar had been periodically stumbling for the last half hour or so, did not care for the rough, ragged sound of his breathing, and when he turned to see what the matter might be, what had caused her to stop moving, the look in his eyes confirmed to her that it was long past time for a rest.

“Can we stop here for a few minutes? These firs ought to give us some cover, and Will really needs to eat.”

Squinting hard against a strange and aggravating blur which had been increasingly creeping in to obscure his vision as the hours went on, Einar studied Will, who appeared to be fast asleep.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You wouldn’t want him to wake crying later because he’s hungry, and possibly give us away…”

No, of course Einar would not want that, and arguing no further he nodded, leg his end of the pole drop to the ground and sank down beside it, attempting to keep the process somewhat orderly in the hopes of concealing his weariness, but only half succeeding. When Liz—not appearing in any particular hurry now to feed the soundly-sleeping Will—offered him water and some almonds from the things Susan had sent them, he did not refuse.

Only after Einar had eaten did Liz settle in to feed Will, who had by then awakened and was attempting mightily to escape from her hood and explore the fir grove. The offer of food was, at the moment, more captivating yet, and while he ate, Einar took out notepad and pencil and began sketching, to the best of his memory, the towers and apparatus they had observed on the canyon rim. He still hadn’t decided what they could be, and doubted the sketch would help him figure it out, but wanted to make it while his memory was fresh, should the information become pressingly relevant in the future. Which he certainly hoped it would not do—at least not without a good deal of warning.

Sketch done and body beginning to stiffen with the cold—he’d barely felt it while moving, but could not sit long without its iron fingers finding their way in and beginning to tighten their grip on him, it seemed—he rose, stretched and scanned the rather limited bit of evergreen grove and willow thicket which made up their immediate surroundings. The day had been quiet so far, no hint of human presence either along the canyon floor or its rim, no sound of distant engines or aircraft, and though Einar would have liked to be reassured by this silence, it somehow only added to his unease.

Wished greatly that he might be free to take off for the canyon rim, make the climb and find some secluded high ground from which to observe, watch for the return of the past night’s intruders, try once more to puzzle out what could have been their purpose and, should it turn out to be a sinister one—do something about it. Such action, however greatly it might align with his instincts and past habits, was all but precluded by the situation, by that round little face with its joyful and piercingly curious eyes which were even then studying him, asking some unspoken question—and by his mother. Until they were safely out of the area and well established somewhere hidden and secure, his first focus must be on making their exit from the canyon and whatever unknown dangers lurked on its far rim, and to this end he took up his end of the pole, waiting for Liz to get Will situated once more in her parka hood, and started walking.

Liz had not quite been ready, held back. “Hey, how’s it going for you? You’re awfully quiet. You doing ok?”

Einar just shrugged, grinned and started walking again, yeah, be just fine as soon as we’re out of this canyon… Place is starting to feel like a trap.

[FOTH]

On the map, it had appeared to Einar that some eighteen miles of canyon floor lay between the place where they had taken the moose, and the canyon’s head where he hoped to find them concealment in the dark timber, and that distance had seemed doable, a good long day’s walk, but no more. Reality, burdened as they were with the drop bag and taking into account the many twistings and turnings of the canyon floor which were only hinted at by the map, was proving somewhat different. Despite walking all day at a pace somewhat beyond the physical limits reasonably imposed upon them by terrain, the weight of their burden and Einar’s own semi-frequent bouts with dizziness and fever, dusk found them still well enveloped by the canyon walls, sun setting early because of their closeness and Einar debating silently the wisdom of continuing on through the night.

If Einar was debating such matters, Liz certainly was not, already searching for a sheltered spot where they might spend the night and—having insisted some distance back upon taking the lead for a while—guiding them towards the first likely-looking place she saw in the failing light. Easing her end of the willow pole to the ground and waiting for Einar to do the same, she studied the area, looking for possible dangers and for the features—chief amongst them being access to more than one exit route from the spot—which she knew would increase the likelihood of Einar finding it an acceptable place to pass the night. Not bad, sheer rock wall at their back but a draw—appeared passable, but one could not be sure until it was tried—running along that to one side, dense stand of stunted little evergreens populating a low hummock that stood between the potential camp spot and the more open willow-ground of the canyon floor and creek…not a bad place at all, in her estimation.

“It’s getting dark. How about we stop here for a few hours?”

Einar let his end of the pole drop unceremoniously to the ground, squinting at their surroundings and slowly shaking his head. “Looks like a fine spot, but I’d sure prefer to keep moving. Can’t really rest easy until we’re up out of here, and into the trees.”

“I know, but we’re really starting to stumble as it gets darker, and you know if one of use goes down, the other will too, the way it works with this pole. We’re just going to leave more sign, floundering around like that.”

A good point, but still he was hesitant, thinking. “Yeah. Just for a few hours though, until the moon comes up and we can see again. Can’t have a fire down in here, not the way it would reflect off that rock and act as a beacon for those guys up on the rim if they come back, or for whatever instruments they may have left on the towers.”

“No, I guess we can’t. But it would be good to stop moving for a few hours, get warm if we can and have something to eat. I know it won’t be too long before the moon starts peeking up over the rim, and then we can move again.”

Plan reasonably agreeable to both parties—Will did not yet have a say, but based on the enthusiasm with which he squirmed to get to the ground when Liz slipped him from her hood, he, too, was ready for a break—they set about making the place ready for use as a very temporary bivouac, Einar putting down tarp and sleeping bag while Liz dug out some food and the last of their water. So intent had they been on covering ground that day that they had not even stopped to renew their water supply, and now, fire not an option, were faced with either making a quick trip down to the creek, or melting snow with their body heat as they rested. Liz definitely preferred the first option, figuring they--and especially Einar--were not likely to have much body heat to spare, sleeping as they planned to do without fire.

"Heading over to the creek for some more water before it finishes getting dark," she told Einar, handing Will to him and taking off before he could object or insist that he must be the one to do it. Last thing he needed, she could not help but think, was to start out the night with his clothes soaking wet as so often seemed to be the result when he ventured anywhere near water those days, and at least with Will in his charge, he would be reasonably certain to remain dry and in camp while she was away.

Shaking his head and grinning into his sleeve to keep her from seeing--he knew exactly what she was about, and could not help but find a bit of humor in her efforts--he took Will on his knee, balancing the little guy a bit precariously as he launched into a long-winded--or perhaps just winded, for he was finding that speaking required a major effort, all of a sudden--exposition on the dangers of wise, wily women like his mother, and how they would stop at nothing to see their plans carried out. Will just laughed, Einar laughing with him, a fortunate thing as Liz was then returning and would have otherwise overheard him. Crouching beside the sleeping bag and taking Will, Liz spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, her tone instantly silencing Einar's laughter.

"The lights are back. I could see them way behind us on the rim, just little blinks here and there, but I'm sure they're in the same place as last night..."

[icefire]

WHAT is going on with those towers? Enquiring minds want to know!

Sorry I haven't commented on the last few installments, but I was up in the mountains deer hunting (unfortunately, the deer were NOWHERE in the area, with the exception of a few does and fawns, and those are NOT legal to hunt here) and had no phone or computer access...I'm still trying to get caught up. Even though the deer weren't cooperating, it was GORGEOUS up there, and the hiking and views were worth the trip!

[FOTH]

Nov 12, 2013 19:25:05 GMT -6 icefire said:

WHAT is going on with those towers? Enquiring minds want to know!

Sorry I haven't commented on the last few installments, but I was up in the mountains deer hunting (unfortunately, the deer were NOWHERE in the area, with the exception of a few does and fawns, and those are NOT legal to hunt here) and had no phone or computer access...I'm still trying to get caught up. Even though the deer weren't cooperating, it was GORGEOUS up there, and the hiking and views were worth the trip!

Glad you got the opportunity to get out there and hunt, even if you didn't end up getting anything. Always good to be out there. Similar here, few people getting elk yet because there's not yet much snow up in the high country, and they're still roaming everywhere.

_______________________________________

Handing Will to his mother he quickly followed her through the timber to a spot just before the creek, where only a few lithe, leafless willows stood to block their view. Though having to look far off to one side and move his eyes rapidly back and forth in order to catch a glimpse, Einar did see the lights, agreed with Liz that they appeared to be located rather close to those they had seen the previous night. Too far away now, even with binoculars, to get any idea of what might be going on back there, but the continued activity certainly did cement Einar’s determination to put a good deal more distance behind them, before sheltering for any length of time. He would have perhaps insisted that they pack up and move on that night and without any further delay, had not the discussion with Liz been still fresh in his mind. Moon would be up in a few short hours, greatly assisting their travel and—most importantly—allowing them to pick routes on which they would leave the least sign. Patience was in order. He handed the binoculars to Liz, crouched against a tree and waited to see if the lights would move on.

“Don’t know what to tell you. Two nights in a row. Might have called it a good sign, something they do regularly and that has nothing at all to do with us, except that we didn’t cross any snowmobile tracks on our way to the canyon rim. So it’s a mystery, and the sooner we can put this place behind us, the better.”

“I know. I don’t like it either, but so long as we don’t have a fire or make a lot of noise, we ought to be as safe here as anywhere, at least for a few hours. Don’t you think?”

Einar rose, rubbing cold hands and squinting at the far rim. “Don’t know what to think, but do know there’s not a lot of sense in stumbling over willows in the darkness for the next few hours and leaving a big, floundering mess for someone to follow.”

“No. But it’s not that bad, is it? The pole-carrying idea, I mean. I know it’s not the easiest thing to do when we’re going through brush and timber, but it mostly seems to be working, doesn’t it?”

“Sure it does! That’s not what I meant. Think it’s working real well, all things considered. Really cutting down on the sign we do leave. Just meant with it being as dark as it is, we’d be doing a lot of stumbling and scrambling, no matter what we are or aren’t trying to carry through all those willows. The moon should solve that for us. I’ll wait.”

Would sleep, too, threat a distant thing and not nearly so immediate as it had been during the previous night, and it was not long before—cold snack of jerky and moose liver eaten and Liz’s insistence—he was drowsing in the sleeping bag, struggling and then failing to stay awake. Wished he had succeeded. Warm in the sleeping bag, far too warm before long, as his resting body made one final effort against the infection that still lingered in his arm and the fever returned with full force to leave him dreaming, drifting, jungle vegetation dark and close around him, water up to his calves as he turned, hurried as quickly as he could back in the direction from which he had come, slipping on some bit of rotting plant matter under the water and going down.

Gasping for breath when he managed to raise himself again, hands and arms still weak and mostly lacking sensation from his treatment in that cage, struggling to breathe without coughing, choking, giving himself away, and he managed it, if just barely, scrambled forward with his eyes on Andy’s enclosure, meaning to return, to make one more effort, wrench the side off that cage and drag the man if he had to, carry him, anything to get him out of their hands and up into the densely-vegetated and in places nearly vertical karst crags that would give him a chance. Some chance, at least, to die free, but Einar did not mean for either of them to die that day, not if he could help it, and there was the cage not fifty yards ahead of him but already men were coming, shouting excitedly at the discovery of the dead guard he had left behind and rapidly scattering to search the area.

No way to go back now, no hope of anything but death—and probably not a particularly rapid one, either—should he try, and he was running, exhaustion and blood loss making his head swim, injured leg collapsing beneath him so that he was at times slithering through the muck as much as he was running, going under, losing his place, back of his neck bristling with the certainty that one of them was about to grab him, have him, firmer ground, leaving the swamp behind and he was on his feet again, breath harsh and metallic in his throat as he pushed himself up the nearest slope, dodging, weaving, changing direction in the hopes of confusing his pursuers, but he could hear them back there, coming, could feel his body failing him, far past its capacity for such work but somehow he managed to keep on his feet, keep going, for it was the only way…

There, ahead, crest of the ridge and some hope, could he gain it, that he might lose them on what he knew would be the even more densely-vegetated backside of the mountain, must hurry but before dropping down to the other side he paused, looked back and saw Andy there watching him through a space in the wall of his cage, a spot where the woven mat had been torn away from the bamboo bars—impossible, no way he could still be visible over that great, tangled distance, but there he was—and the young man was smiling, urging him on, light in his eyes and a strange, transfiguring joy easing away the hard lines of suffering that had been etched in his face, raising a hand in farewell before sinking out of sight, resting, at peace…

Over the crest and down, then, falling hard as his bad leg went out from beneath him, and Einar woke with wild eyes staring into Will’s face in the moonlight, radiant where it peeked out from the hood of his mother’s parka and graced with the smile of some carefree dream, a child’s dream, entire life before him, and for the first time Einar—tears in his eyes as he reached out with trembling hand to caress the child’s cheek—did not want to go back.

Instead he rose, quiet, careful not to disturb mother or child, ate, made ready their things in the brilliant moonlight, silver moonlight spilling down the canyon, teeth rattling in the deep pre-dawn chill, all prepared for their departure before he gently woke Liz and offered her some food.

“Time to go, Lizzie. Go find our home.”

[yikes]

whoa, powerful.

[felicia]

I am new here migrated from survivalistboards.com where this story started being posted. So I am just getting caught up.

I just want to say this is not only the most interesting book(s) I have ever read but also ones that teach.

[FOTH]

Yikes, thank you.

Felicia, glad you found the continuing story here.--and glad you're finding it educational. Please feel free to join the discussion anytime, here in the story or anywhere else on the forum.

No chapter today, but I will have one ready for tomorrow.

Thank you all for reading.