Jamie uncurled her hand from around the steering wheel and flexed her fingers a few times to ease the tightness before switching hands. She continued to focus on the disappearing road ahead, confident in her driving abilities but all too aware that the moment she let her concentration lapse, anything could go wrong.
She started when the radio squawked loudly and let out a short laugh to hide her embarrassment as Mike's voice greeted her.
"Base to Ranger three seven, come in, over?"
Jamie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took a deep breath before picking up the microphone. The jeep slowed as she divided her concentration.
"Mike, good to hear your voice, over." She hadn't spoken to her supervisor, and best friend, in the last few days, as he'd been playing host to a snow expedition.
"We have reports of a major front incoming from Canada, Jake. Recommend you get home and stay there. We're figuring about a week without outside contact, over."
Mike only used her nickname publicly, when trouble was brewing or he was drunk, both rare occasions. He began to speak slower while he detailed facts and figures; a sure sign this storm had him concerned and that meant the valley would probably be snowbound for a few days.
She shrugged, figuring a mini vacation was a better prospect than being stuck at the lodge comforting stranded tourists.
"So what's the bad news?"
There was a pause and a couple of static clicks before his weary voice came back. "Tell me you're wrapped up under a comforter in front of your fireplace with a mug of cocoa."
She scrunched her face into a grimace and imagined him running a hand over his own face as he waited for an answer. The wipers swished back and forth on the windshield, their steady rhythm counting off the seconds. She flipped on the headlights as the wipers arced across the glass, slid the heater control another notch to the right and braced herself before answering.
"Not exactly, Mike."
"Where you at girl?" His tone had gone from friendly to boss in that last question.
Jamie looked around at the quickly deteriorating landscape. She was still able to make out a few familiar landmarks, but even those were becoming fewer.
"I checked fire road three's gate. Someone busted through."
"Close the gate and go home." It wasn't a request.
"I'd like to." She let the thought trail off and Mike's voice came back quickly.
"But?" The single word demanded further explanation and left no room for argument.
She shook off the sense of impending doom; she'd seen plenty of snowstorms and the few whiteouts they'd experienced lasted only a day or two.
"I'll head back shortly," she assured him.
"Jake." This time she cringed at the use of her nickname. "Turn your ass around and get yourself inside. That's an order!"
Jamie bit back her first response and instead clenched her jaw and blew out a long breath. Diplomacy was a better tact. "Yeah, I'm turning around now."
"Good. If we lose contact, fire up the portable at the usual time."
Even though Mike couldn't see her, she nodded in response. "Will do—oh shit!"
The dark mass appeared suddenly in her path, partially buried under a blanket of snow, but there was enough of an outline for her to distinguish it was a large vehicle.
Jamie's foot came down hard on the brake pedal as she dropped the mic, twisted the steering wheel hard and thrust out her right arm to brace the dog.
The jeep slid sideways, and for a heart-stopping moment she felt the impact of metal hitting metal. Her body slammed into the door as her grip was wrenched from the steering wheel. Air bags deployed in a dense cloud of chemicals and a deafening retort left her ears ringing.
Jamie slowly let go of the wheel, her hands shook as she turned them over and buried her face in the dog's fur. Her heart hammered against her breast bone as she gasped for air and slumped back in the seat, arms dropping into her lap. She let out a choked cry and leaned over to embrace her shaking passenger, burying her head in his neck, all the while mentally scolding herself for panicking. As her racing heart slowed to normal she pushed herself back into the driver's seat, still shaky from the close call.
Mike's shouting finally roused her and she retrieved the black cord, pulling the mic out from under the seat, but not before noting they'd stopped mere inches from the buried vehicle.
"Jake—what is it?"
She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice, and cleared her throat a few times; no need to worry him. "Got a vehicle on the side of the road. Blazer by the looks of it."
"Can you see anyone?"
Jamie had already opened the glove box and grabbed a pair of gloves and a ski mask. "I'm going to go check, turning on the handheld." She replaced the microphone on the v-shaped hook and turned on the portable field radio. Mike was already calling, his voice began to fade.
"Status?" Mike demanded.
Jamie opened the door and practically slid out of the jeep, her boots sinking into the powder. She hunched her shoulders against the instant change in temperature, pulled out the thin silver antennae on the rectangular box and adjusted the frequency. The dog jumped out beside her and began sniffing around the jeep, his muzzle showed off a clump of white as he regarded her with soft brown eyes.
"There's already a half foot of snow," she reported to Mike as she made her way towards the stranded car, her legs plowing a trail to the vehicle.
The blue and white blazer appeared to have swerved off the road and wedged itself into a small copse of young trees, the front end nosed forward into the road's shoulder, leaving the back tire hanging above the road.
The driver's door was pinned tightly against a tree trunk, the metal molded neatly around it and Jamie brushed the snow off the windows trying to peer inside, but the tinting was too dark. She slapped her hands hard on the cold metal and yelled in the hopes of alerting any survivors, but was not surprised when there was no response. She made her way back to the jeep and reported her findings.
"Mike, I'm going to get the shovel and try to dig to the passenger door. Driver's side is blocked by trees."
"Keep me posted, no more than 15 minute intervals."
She set the handheld on the seat and rummaged in the back for the small fold out shovel. Twenty minutes later she was able to tug on the passenger door, but it stubbornly held fast against her attempts to open it. In frustration she banged the shovel against the metal and then put her ear to the window.
Still nothing.
The flashlight wouldn't penetrate beyond the dark covering on the windows, so she opted to put a couple more hefty dents into the Blazer, sure that if there had been anyone inside, she would have received a response by now.
She climbed swiftly back into the jeep and shut the door to keep the heat from escaping and pulled off her gloves, placing stiff fingers in front of the heater vents, and sighed at the issuing warmth they offered. There was nothing but static from the radio, and after a few tries she gave it up, and decided it was time to head home.
Jamie opened the driver's door, the window refusing to open and let out a sharp whistle. The sound of the jeep's engine couldn't completely mask the quiet of the falling snow. It appeared harmless and peaceful and reminded her of a Norman Rockwell painting. A moment later, Jamie was once more standing outside and whistling.
"Indy!" She let out another series of sharp whistles, called, and clapped her hands together, finally following the beam of headlights on the road to see Indy pacing back and forth. Exasperated, she placed her hands on her hips, adopted a western gunfighter's stance and glared at the dog.
"If you've got a squirrel treed, you will be sleeping outside for the next week, Mister." The threat didn't seem to faze Indy as he continued to pace back and forth, his attention turned away from her. Curiosity got the better of her, and she went to investigate.
Indy stopped pacing as she neared, and he gave a low warning growl as she stepped up beside the dog, only to find herself peering down into a steep ravine. Another few steps and she would have found herself in a perilous predicament.
"Okay, boy." She squatted beside him and patted his head, unsure of what had attracted his attention. "Time to head for home."
Jamie turned to walk back to the jeep and Indy began to bark. She rolled her eyes and pivoted back. "What is your problem? It's going to be dark soon and I plan on being home before then. So forget about playtime, let's go." The dog refused to budge and backed up a small step before he resumed barking. She frowned unsure of how to explain his behavior.
Normally Indy wouldn't put up a fuss. It was obvious something had caught the dog's attention. Jamie decided it was worth taking a closer look. She let her gaze wander slowly over the ravine this time, and was about to give up until she saw a few downed trees and became aware that it wasn't boulders snaking down the hill, but a trail of truck parts.
"Oh my god!" she shouted, already running back to the jeep while the dog barked behind her as if in encouragement. He'd earned his own steak dinner tonight.
+house md+house md+
The pounding headache wouldn't stop, and it kept an out of synch rhythm with the vice-grip spasms that shot through his thigh, and snaked upwards through his groin. He clenched his teeth as another groan escaped, and the heel of his palm pressed hard against his temple did little to ease the pain. He couldn't remember experiencing this kind of pain since the infarction and there was no one around to administer a morphine drip.
There was no one around period. If he'd been thinking clearly he would have admitted that not including anyone in his plans was childish and irresponsible. And now, due to his warped sense of needing to preserve his privacy, he'd really screwed things up. It wasn't the first time, and could possibly prove to be his last. But then House wasn't thinking clearly.
He was unaware of how long he'd been trapped here, his watch still ticking away the seconds and minutes, hidden and strapped to his confined arm. Darkness had settled inside the cab and the smell of urine and bodily waste only heightened his discomfort and he fought back another wave of nauseous.
He licked his chapped lips, aware of the bead of sweat on his upper lip and wondered if hypothermia would set in before he died of starvation. He closed his eyes as the pain engulfed him once more, and left him panting and physically drained.