Not Quite Forever
Page 88

With little left to do, Dakota removed the glove on her left hand and took the ring from her future mother-in-law. She slid it on and felt fresh tears.
I love you, Walter Eddy the Third. Now find me so I can tell you in person.
She sent her silent words to the Universe and hoped someone listened.
Mary’s words assured him, even though he heard a tremor in her voice.
“Dakota’s a prepper. She will have food, water, extra blankets. If they got lost, she’ll park the car and wait to be found.”
Night had fallen again, the snow let up right before the sun went down. They’d checked the roads about the house and didn’t find anything. There were plenty of turnoffs, old campgrounds, a few abandoned houses.
Not that a lack of the sun was going to stop Walt’s search. He and Larry were bundled and ready for another trip up the mountain. The police used the house as a base camp, plows would pick one of them up as they continued on up the road.
“I’m going to find her,” Walt assured Mary.
“Of course you are. Trent and Glen are flying in tonight, so long as the weather holds. By noon tomorrow you’ll be sipping hot chocolate and laughing.” Mary choked on a cry.
“Have you called her parents?”
“I have. They’re booking flights. I’ll let your sister know when to expect all of us. We’ll get to you, don’t think about us.”
“I don’t have room in my head to.”
“Dr. Eddy?” One of the officers waved him over.
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Go find her.”
“I will.”
Walt climbed into another plow and watched as light sparkled off the snow. Instead of traveling the main road, they took the back one.
Even though the plow could chomp through the snow and ice like a teenager did pizza, they moved slowly and shed light on the side roads as they went. “C’mon, Dakota. Where are you?”
With the open skies, the temperature dropped below zero, or so the outside temperature gauge on the car said when they cranked the engine to heat the inside.
The gas in the car was still reading a quarter of a tank.
Dakota ran the flashers and honked the horn several times when she could. The fear of running out of gas and heat was a larger concern than food at this point. JoAnne was the one who suggested they move to the backseat and huddle together to stay warm.
Using the flashlight to keep a light in the car on, Dakota propped it against the front seat and helped JoAnne into the back. They bundled close, used the blankets to contain as much heat as they could.
“First thing I’m doing when we get home is filling a tub with scalding hot water.”
Dakota agreed. “With scented bubbles. Rose or lilac.”
JoAnne offered a dry laugh. “We do stink.”
“I’ll pack air deodorant in the emergency kit next time.”
“Bite your tongue, young lady. We most certainly are not doing this again.”
Dakota smiled, closed her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
They were both quiet for a while, yet neither of them slept.
“I’m scared, Dakota.”
Dakota reached for JoAnne’s hand, squeezed it. “We won’t run out of water, we can survive for several days without food.”
“What about freezing to—”
“Don’t! We’re cold, not frozen. We’re fine.”
“But—”
“JoAnne, I just started to like you. Don’t go blowing it with buts and death talk.”
Dakota felt JoAnne’s hand squeeze hers. “You’re a pushy one.”
“Damn right. A trait you’ll learn to love.”
JoAnne leaned her head against Dakota’s and her breathing evened out.
Dakota shook herself awake sometime later, noticed ice forming on the inside of the window. Easing out from under JoAnne’s sleeping head, Dakota uncurled from the heat of the blankets and wiggled into the front seat. She turned the engine over, panicked a little when it took a moment to start.
“So cold.” She heard JoAnne mumble in the back.
“Heat is coming.” Dakota blew the horn, signaled SOS, and checked the time. After three. According to the temperature gauge, it was minus five degrees.
She would never again curse Southern California for all the windy, hot weather it provided.
She hit the horn again, followed it with a flash of the headlights. Once the chill was out of the air, she cut the engine.
They only had one-eighth of a tank left.
Tomorrow she’d have to figure out how to keep them warm without the use of the engine.
Walt’s plow met up with Larry’s. “Anything?” Larry yelled from the cab.
“Nothing. You?”
“We thought we saw tracks leading farther north. Didn’t want to risk the road alone.”
“Let’s go,” Chance, his driver, said.
They found the tracks, or what Larry thought were tracks. Looked more like big circle. Like maybe kids got out there and did doughnuts in the snow before it really hit hard. The road from here led off in three directions, the one they came in on, and two others.
“Do you know where we are?” Walt asked his driver.
He peered out the window. “Think we’re at an old summer camp site.”
That would explain the open road and several turns. “Any idea where it dumps out?”
“Main road is five miles away. But we know they didn’t find the road.”