Author's note: Oh man. How long has it been? So many months have gone by.
Anyway. I haven't been
updating because of school, and another writing project that I've been
working on. But now that
it's summer, I've decided to start writing this again. I've never quit on
any writing. And I've just
got some great ideas for this one. Anyway, this chapter's kind of short –
and it's not written from
Cloud's point of view. Think of it as a little background to the story.
Enjoy! And please R&R.
zlancer
"Mush! Mush!" the man shouted to his team of snow-white wolfhounds. Everything around us was a barren white. I hugged myself to keep warm. How can anyone live in this weather? I cringed as the wind blew snow into my face. The dogs worked their legs through the snow, without complaint, without weakness, pulling the driver and me to our destination. The guilt of forcing these poor creatures to run in this freezing weather nagged at the back of my head. I looked to the right at the three other teams running alongside us. The hounds trekked tirelessly through the snow. No, they're indigenous to this region. They were built for this weather. I, on the other hand, am not.
"How you faring Doc?" the driver shouted above the howling winds. I turned my head around.
"I'm okay! Just a little chilly!" I shouted back.
"A little different from Costa Del Sol, eh?" he tried futilely to brush off some of the snow that had turned his shaggy brown beard into frigid, white tussles.
"Yeah, it's a little warmer over there," I answered. He laughed.
"So what's the big emergency?" I shouted.
"You don't know?"
"No. You did just pull me out of my office without telling me anything. At first, I thought you'd kidnapped me – " A big ball of frost hit me in the side of the face. I grunted. The cold ice dripped into my hood and down my neck. I reached into my coat and tried my best to clean it out.
"You all right doc? One of the dogs kicked that one up."
I nodded, "Whatever the emergency is, it better be serious enough for me to cross this godforsaken wasteland!"
"S'not so bad. I find it cool and refreshing--- I think that's them coming up." I peered up ahead through the snow. At first, I saw only white. But then, I noticed tints of red. When we got closer, I saw that they were marker flags. A few dozen of them were arranged around an area occupied by several large tents.
"Halloooo!" the driver shouted as we approached. Someone in a dark blue coat stepped out of one of the tents. He stopped when he spotted us and began to wave his hands frantically in the air. The driver pulled at the reins. The dogs began to slow down. The other three sleds did the same.
When we were inside the flag circle, the blue-coated man walked up to our sled. A few other came out to meet us too.
"Who are you?" he shouted.
"We're the rescue team!" shouted my driver. The man turned to him.
"This is it? This is the rescue team?" The scarf tied around his mouth and nose muffled his voice. He paused.
"Is there a problem?" I asked.
"This just isn't what I expected, and I thought there'd be more of you too!" he said.
"And I thought there'd be less of you," said my driver, looking out over the small crowd that had formed.
"There were only five of us when we radioed. Our team was separated in the snow. The rest found us right after our radio went out."
"So. How many of you are there?" I asked. Someone next to me spoke.
"There are sixteen of us here. Three of our team, including our medic are still out there somewhere."
"They're going to have to be on their own for now," said my driver, "It won't do us any good to try and find them in this weather."
"How many sleds do you have?" asked one of the other sled drivers.
"None," said the blue-coated man, "We use snowmobiles. But, only three have full fuel tanks. The others won't get us to town. We were hoping you'd bring extra fuel. This isn't what we expected."
"Sleds," said my driver sharply, "Are more reliable than your machines. Snowmobiles can't help you find shelter in a blizzard."
"You didn't bring extra fuel?" I inquired.
"We did. But, we lost most of it when we were attacked."
"Attacked?"
"We're going to set up camp!" my driver suddenly shouted to the sled team.
"What?" I turned to my driver, "Why?"
"We have to. The storm's picking up and we can't get everyone back to town. Better to wait it out."
"Ron," one of the younger sled drivers addressed my driver, "I brought some motor fuel. I think we can get four more running."
"That could work," I said, "If we have two to a snowmobile and the rest on the sleds---"
"Sorry Doc. No can do," said Ron, "The storm's picking up too fast. We'd never get back in time. Plus. We'll be in a better position to find the three who are missing after it passes." The storm was just getting started. Hope those tree found shelter somewhere.
"Alright," said the blue-coated man, "But, I got some injured who need tending to."
"Well you're in luck," said Ron motioned to me, "We brought a doctor."
"Where are they?" I asked.
"In that tent," the blue-coated man pointed to the tent in the middle of the circle."
"Let's get some windbreakers up!" Ron called to his team. I got off the sled and stepped into the snow. Damn! It's cold. The snow was halfway up my knees. Can't worry about that now.
"By the way, I'm Jim Silva," said the blue-coated man held out his hand."
"Jack Morse I took his outstretched hand and shook it."
"Alright Doctor. Let me show you into our sick bay." I grabbed my first aid case off the sled and followed him.
Silva unzipped the triple coated flaps of the tent and waved me inside. Ahh. Warmth. It's heated.
"We have four injured, and a fifth..." I looked around. There were a total of ten infirmary beds – five on one side, five on the other.
"Hey! Silva! The rescue team get here yet?" called one of the patients.
"Who's your friend?" asked the one in the bed next to him.
"Rescue team's here. But we're not leaving 'till this storm blows over," said Silva, "Oh, and we got you all a doctor."
"How do you do?" I said, "My name's Jack Morse."
"Larry Hudak," nodded a tall, slim-looking man with glasses.
"Craig Nasser," said the man sitting in the bed next to him.
"I'm Wes Blake. Nice to meet you doctor. Hope you can get started right away. Jimmy over there's having a little trouble. You better get to him first." said the man who had asked about the rescue team, "You doin' alright Jim?" The man in the first bed on my left spoke, "I can't feel anything right now. I'm not sure if that's good. I'm afraid that if I move, the pain'll kill me." Every in the tent except for me laughed. I didn't see what was so funny.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay. Stop guys. I'm starting to hurt," Jimmy grimaced.
"Ole Jimmy. Always crackin' jokes," laughed the man named Wes.
"Let me take a look at you," I walked over to Jimmy's side. He was a large man – not fat, but burly. Looked about in his mid-thirties, with a deep, curly beard.
"My arm's broke," said the man, "And my sides really hurt."
"Show me where it hurts." He pulled down his covers down a little with his left hand. That act seemed to cause him great pain.
"Right here," he touched a place on his right side.
"May I?" I took the gloves off my hands.
"Go 'head," he said, "It hurts like hell though." I felt along his ribs.
"I think you may have some broken ribs," I said, "I can't do anything about it now unless I get a X-Ray scan. All I can do is give you some painkillers."
"No thanks Doc," he answered, "I ain't takin' any drugs."
"It'll help ease the pain."
"I ain't takin' no drugs," he repeated, "I just got over my alcohol problem."
"I insist on just a small dose. You won't get addicted. It'll help."
"No. I'm not taking any chances. I almost lost my marriage. And now, I got a little one at home who's looking up to me. No drugs. I'll be fine. I can live with it." Good man.
"Well, I can't do anything if you don't let me," I hadn't talked with this guy for more than a minute, and I already had great respect for him, "Your family should be proud."
"Thank you Doctor."
"Just try not to move too much."
"I won't." I turned to Silva.
"You said you were attacked. By whom? And how did this man sustain such injury?"
"By a group of wendigoes," said Silva, "My team and I were out studying the glaciers. We were heading back to camp when the storm started picking up. That's when a group of wendigoes attacked us."
"Wendigoes? They're usually very peaceful. And, they only attack humans in self-defense."
"Tell that to the damn yetis that attacked us," said Wes, "There were probably five or six of them. Maybe more. We were too busy running for our lives to count."
"That doesn't sound right either. Wendigoes don't usually hunt in groups of more than three."
"What are you? A naturalist?" said Wes.
"No," I replied, "I just like to know my environment." I suddenly noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and looked toward the bed in the farthest corner.
"Who's that?" I pointed to the figure lying still in that bed.
"Him? We don't know. We were hoping you would recognize him," said Silva I walked over to the still figure. His whole body, up to his neck was covered with an electric blanket.
"We found him in the snow last night."
"In the snow?
"We were coming back to camp last night. We found him trudging in the snow wearing almost nothing, in a snowstorm too." What the hell was this man doing walking in the snow this far away from town, especially with no clothes on?
"Was there some kind of accident? Some kind of plane crash?"
"Don't know. We searched within a five-mile radius of where we found him. But really, he couldn't have walked more than a mile in what he was in."
"How is he? Do you know?"
"Remarkably fine," said Silva, "Our doctor checked him out. He just needs a little rest."
"Nothing? No frostbite? No hypothermia?"
"Nothing."
"Tough bastard," said Wes, "Was walking through the snow like he was in a trance. Collapsed right when we got to him."
"His skin was all purple and blue when we found him," said Jim, "He was also covered with some kind of green stuff."
"Green stuff?" I asked.
"We think it's mako," said Silva, "He was lightly covered in it. There were also traces of it in his body – not enough to harm him though."
"Hmm. The mako could have provided some warmth for him," I said.
"True," said Silva, "But he still couldn't have walked more than three miles. We searched a five-mile radius. Nothing."
"Has he been asleep all night?" I asked.
"Yeah." I looked at his face. I swear I've seen him somewhere before.
zlancer
"Mush! Mush!" the man shouted to his team of snow-white wolfhounds. Everything around us was a barren white. I hugged myself to keep warm. How can anyone live in this weather? I cringed as the wind blew snow into my face. The dogs worked their legs through the snow, without complaint, without weakness, pulling the driver and me to our destination. The guilt of forcing these poor creatures to run in this freezing weather nagged at the back of my head. I looked to the right at the three other teams running alongside us. The hounds trekked tirelessly through the snow. No, they're indigenous to this region. They were built for this weather. I, on the other hand, am not.
"How you faring Doc?" the driver shouted above the howling winds. I turned my head around.
"I'm okay! Just a little chilly!" I shouted back.
"A little different from Costa Del Sol, eh?" he tried futilely to brush off some of the snow that had turned his shaggy brown beard into frigid, white tussles.
"Yeah, it's a little warmer over there," I answered. He laughed.
"So what's the big emergency?" I shouted.
"You don't know?"
"No. You did just pull me out of my office without telling me anything. At first, I thought you'd kidnapped me – " A big ball of frost hit me in the side of the face. I grunted. The cold ice dripped into my hood and down my neck. I reached into my coat and tried my best to clean it out.
"You all right doc? One of the dogs kicked that one up."
I nodded, "Whatever the emergency is, it better be serious enough for me to cross this godforsaken wasteland!"
"S'not so bad. I find it cool and refreshing--- I think that's them coming up." I peered up ahead through the snow. At first, I saw only white. But then, I noticed tints of red. When we got closer, I saw that they were marker flags. A few dozen of them were arranged around an area occupied by several large tents.
"Halloooo!" the driver shouted as we approached. Someone in a dark blue coat stepped out of one of the tents. He stopped when he spotted us and began to wave his hands frantically in the air. The driver pulled at the reins. The dogs began to slow down. The other three sleds did the same.
When we were inside the flag circle, the blue-coated man walked up to our sled. A few other came out to meet us too.
"Who are you?" he shouted.
"We're the rescue team!" shouted my driver. The man turned to him.
"This is it? This is the rescue team?" The scarf tied around his mouth and nose muffled his voice. He paused.
"Is there a problem?" I asked.
"This just isn't what I expected, and I thought there'd be more of you too!" he said.
"And I thought there'd be less of you," said my driver, looking out over the small crowd that had formed.
"There were only five of us when we radioed. Our team was separated in the snow. The rest found us right after our radio went out."
"So. How many of you are there?" I asked. Someone next to me spoke.
"There are sixteen of us here. Three of our team, including our medic are still out there somewhere."
"They're going to have to be on their own for now," said my driver, "It won't do us any good to try and find them in this weather."
"How many sleds do you have?" asked one of the other sled drivers.
"None," said the blue-coated man, "We use snowmobiles. But, only three have full fuel tanks. The others won't get us to town. We were hoping you'd bring extra fuel. This isn't what we expected."
"Sleds," said my driver sharply, "Are more reliable than your machines. Snowmobiles can't help you find shelter in a blizzard."
"You didn't bring extra fuel?" I inquired.
"We did. But, we lost most of it when we were attacked."
"Attacked?"
"We're going to set up camp!" my driver suddenly shouted to the sled team.
"What?" I turned to my driver, "Why?"
"We have to. The storm's picking up and we can't get everyone back to town. Better to wait it out."
"Ron," one of the younger sled drivers addressed my driver, "I brought some motor fuel. I think we can get four more running."
"That could work," I said, "If we have two to a snowmobile and the rest on the sleds---"
"Sorry Doc. No can do," said Ron, "The storm's picking up too fast. We'd never get back in time. Plus. We'll be in a better position to find the three who are missing after it passes." The storm was just getting started. Hope those tree found shelter somewhere.
"Alright," said the blue-coated man, "But, I got some injured who need tending to."
"Well you're in luck," said Ron motioned to me, "We brought a doctor."
"Where are they?" I asked.
"In that tent," the blue-coated man pointed to the tent in the middle of the circle."
"Let's get some windbreakers up!" Ron called to his team. I got off the sled and stepped into the snow. Damn! It's cold. The snow was halfway up my knees. Can't worry about that now.
"By the way, I'm Jim Silva," said the blue-coated man held out his hand."
"Jack Morse I took his outstretched hand and shook it."
"Alright Doctor. Let me show you into our sick bay." I grabbed my first aid case off the sled and followed him.
Silva unzipped the triple coated flaps of the tent and waved me inside. Ahh. Warmth. It's heated.
"We have four injured, and a fifth..." I looked around. There were a total of ten infirmary beds – five on one side, five on the other.
"Hey! Silva! The rescue team get here yet?" called one of the patients.
"Who's your friend?" asked the one in the bed next to him.
"Rescue team's here. But we're not leaving 'till this storm blows over," said Silva, "Oh, and we got you all a doctor."
"How do you do?" I said, "My name's Jack Morse."
"Larry Hudak," nodded a tall, slim-looking man with glasses.
"Craig Nasser," said the man sitting in the bed next to him.
"I'm Wes Blake. Nice to meet you doctor. Hope you can get started right away. Jimmy over there's having a little trouble. You better get to him first." said the man who had asked about the rescue team, "You doin' alright Jim?" The man in the first bed on my left spoke, "I can't feel anything right now. I'm not sure if that's good. I'm afraid that if I move, the pain'll kill me." Every in the tent except for me laughed. I didn't see what was so funny.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay. Stop guys. I'm starting to hurt," Jimmy grimaced.
"Ole Jimmy. Always crackin' jokes," laughed the man named Wes.
"Let me take a look at you," I walked over to Jimmy's side. He was a large man – not fat, but burly. Looked about in his mid-thirties, with a deep, curly beard.
"My arm's broke," said the man, "And my sides really hurt."
"Show me where it hurts." He pulled down his covers down a little with his left hand. That act seemed to cause him great pain.
"Right here," he touched a place on his right side.
"May I?" I took the gloves off my hands.
"Go 'head," he said, "It hurts like hell though." I felt along his ribs.
"I think you may have some broken ribs," I said, "I can't do anything about it now unless I get a X-Ray scan. All I can do is give you some painkillers."
"No thanks Doc," he answered, "I ain't takin' any drugs."
"It'll help ease the pain."
"I ain't takin' no drugs," he repeated, "I just got over my alcohol problem."
"I insist on just a small dose. You won't get addicted. It'll help."
"No. I'm not taking any chances. I almost lost my marriage. And now, I got a little one at home who's looking up to me. No drugs. I'll be fine. I can live with it." Good man.
"Well, I can't do anything if you don't let me," I hadn't talked with this guy for more than a minute, and I already had great respect for him, "Your family should be proud."
"Thank you Doctor."
"Just try not to move too much."
"I won't." I turned to Silva.
"You said you were attacked. By whom? And how did this man sustain such injury?"
"By a group of wendigoes," said Silva, "My team and I were out studying the glaciers. We were heading back to camp when the storm started picking up. That's when a group of wendigoes attacked us."
"Wendigoes? They're usually very peaceful. And, they only attack humans in self-defense."
"Tell that to the damn yetis that attacked us," said Wes, "There were probably five or six of them. Maybe more. We were too busy running for our lives to count."
"That doesn't sound right either. Wendigoes don't usually hunt in groups of more than three."
"What are you? A naturalist?" said Wes.
"No," I replied, "I just like to know my environment." I suddenly noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and looked toward the bed in the farthest corner.
"Who's that?" I pointed to the figure lying still in that bed.
"Him? We don't know. We were hoping you would recognize him," said Silva I walked over to the still figure. His whole body, up to his neck was covered with an electric blanket.
"We found him in the snow last night."
"In the snow?
"We were coming back to camp last night. We found him trudging in the snow wearing almost nothing, in a snowstorm too." What the hell was this man doing walking in the snow this far away from town, especially with no clothes on?
"Was there some kind of accident? Some kind of plane crash?"
"Don't know. We searched within a five-mile radius of where we found him. But really, he couldn't have walked more than a mile in what he was in."
"How is he? Do you know?"
"Remarkably fine," said Silva, "Our doctor checked him out. He just needs a little rest."
"Nothing? No frostbite? No hypothermia?"
"Nothing."
"Tough bastard," said Wes, "Was walking through the snow like he was in a trance. Collapsed right when we got to him."
"His skin was all purple and blue when we found him," said Jim, "He was also covered with some kind of green stuff."
"Green stuff?" I asked.
"We think it's mako," said Silva, "He was lightly covered in it. There were also traces of it in his body – not enough to harm him though."
"Hmm. The mako could have provided some warmth for him," I said.
"True," said Silva, "But he still couldn't have walked more than three miles. We searched a five-mile radius. Nothing."
"Has he been asleep all night?" I asked.
"Yeah." I looked at his face. I swear I've seen him somewhere before.