I wondered what Sawyer was thinking. Did he feel unworthy now to be called Captain? Was he mad at himself? Disappointed in us? I didn’t have a clue how to handle his emotions, so as I made my way toward Lydie, I was relieved when Marshall joined me so I could ask him.
“Was that totally the wrong thing to say, Marshall? Did I sound sarcastic? Do you think I made him feel like a failure? I was trying to build him up, but what if I came across as patronizing?” I quickly asked.
Marshall shook his head, “No, Marlee. Actually I came to thank you for handling that perfectly. You knew that he needed space, and you knew that he needed to hear something positive. You said just the right thing, as always.”
“Phew, am I glad to hear that. Thanks,” I sighed.
About eight feet in front of us, Lydie stirred in her sleep, so we stopped walking and looked at each other. “Marlee,” whispered Marshall, “can I tell you something?” I noticed for the first time that Marshall’s eyes looked dull, not as much as Lydie’s, but concern washed over me.
“Anything,” I nodded.
“Please don’t worry. But someone needs to know that I’m not doing very well. Remember how you were yesterday? Headache, weak? I feel like I’m beginning to reach that point now,” Marshall confided.
As he spoke, his expression reminded me of how I felt yesterday before the stick was removed from my head. “We really should have packed more electrolytes,” I muttered in frustration. “Let me ask Ellie if we have any electrolyte solutions in the first aid kit,” I rapidly thought.
I figured Marshall would stop me, so when he slouched against a tree near Lydie, I realized how quickly he was deteriorating. It couldn’t have been 15 minutes ago we were laughing our heads off about burritos, and now he was weakening faster than a flower wilting in the hot sun.
“Hey, El,” I said as I returned to her and Sawyer, who was looking a bit perkier, “I wondered if we have any electrolyte solutions in the first aid kit. I just thought with no food or snacks, we should probably each have some.” I sounded so calm that I surprised myself. I felt like God had put the words and easy tone in my mouth for me.
Ellie mock-slapped her forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! How stupid! I should have had us all take some first thing this morning!”
Now it was Sawyer’s turn to encourage. “You probably did think of it, but decided to wait until the last resort. You’re right, Marlee, we should each have electrolytes. I’ll test out my taped leg, hope it works better than the action figure from my fifth birthday when his leg had to be taped, and mix each of us a liter.” Ellie and I smiled when he mentioned the broken toy, and I watched in awe as he practiced standing on his sore leg and gathered water bottles. He sure was strong, physically and spiritually.
One glance at Ellie told me that she was thinking the same thing. It was exciting to see Sawyer and Ellie working together so well, and even admiring each other! I playfully elbowed her and waggled my eyebrows, which made her blush and fight a smile.
A moment later Sawyer delivered us two bottles with the electrolyte solution mixed into our water. I intended to slowly sip on the mineral-loaded water, but my thirst and hunger took over, and I had guzzled over half the liter within a few seconds. “Slow down, Marlee,” Ellie cautioned. “Rehydrate too quickly and you’ll make yourself sick.”
I nodded, remembering a time when I had rehydrated too quickly after a hot hike. That time my stomach let me know I had made a mistake – painfully and visibly! I appreciated Ellie warning me instead of me needing to dart off trail to be sick.
Meanwhile, we watched from a distance as Sawyer and Marshall each sipped their electrolyte solutions. It was impressive to see how quickly it helped perk up Marshall. I was glad for the quick turnaround, but scared of what would happen in the next few hours. What we were drinking now was the last of our electrolytes. Sure, we had plenty of water with the nearby streams and our water filter, but we all knew that all water and no food, or at least electrolytes, would further weaken us. I was making every effort to ignore the dull headache threatening to take control over my positive mood. I had no doubts that the others were battling similar symptoms. Lydie was still resting, and Sawyer turned around and motioned us to come.
Ellie stood first and held out her hand to help me up. Yikes, that half liter feels like a melon in my stomach! Good thing Ellie told me to slow down. I would be careful to sip the rest over the period of the next few hours.
“Since Lydie is resting and we’re all perking up thanks to tape, electrolytes and God, maybe we ought to pack up and head out. We can probably load Lydie so smoothly she’ll keep sleeping, and I like the idea of her being able to rest until we find help,” Sawyer stated.
Marshall nodded, and I noticed his eyes looked brighter. ‘Thank you,’ he silently mouthed to me, and I smiled. I thanked God that Marshall told me he was wilting so we could take action before he collapsed. Thinking of God reminded me that we should really pray again. When I suggested it, Sawyer asked Marshall to lead us in prayer. I could tell that he wasn’t as confident as his brother, or even Lydie, at praying aloud, but he was sincere.
“Girls, would you please pack up the first aid kit and re-gather our packs? Marshall and I will lift Lydie back onto the stretcher. Let’s keep her water bottle with her for when she wakes up,” Sawyer instructed.
Ellie and I returned to the bags, and I remembered that it was my turn to carry my pack and give Marshall a break by letting him carry Lydie’s relatively small pack. Hoisting my pack onto my knee, and then swiveling it around to my back, I suddenly felt very small and vulnerable again. Stay balanced. One step at a time. You can do this, Girl. The positive voice in my head reminded me of something I would say to a sister or friend, but I had a hunch that this encouragement was from my Father. No way was I clear-headed enough right now to think of that on my own.
I carried Lydie’s pack over to Marshall, who was setting Lydie’s water bottle next to her elbow in the stretcher. “You sure, Marlee?” Marshall gestured to my load.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll let you know when I need to switch. Thanks for carrying it this far,” I smiled. Now that all the buckles were tightened, I was feeling more stable. Just a few more hours to Mom and Dad, I thought.
In another moment, we all had our packs on our backs and were squatted down with the ropes of the stretcher in position on our shoulders. “On three,” Sawyer called, and then to make us laugh he added, “This is for you, Marsh: uno, dos, tres.” We all cracked up and stood up on tres.
11
“How will the Search and Rescuers find us? I mean, where will they even begin looking for us?” I pondered aloud. We had been hiking again for about ten minutes, regaining a steady pace. Sawyer’s limp had lessened, Marshall was continuing to look more alive, and Lydie was resting rather peacefully. We had been silent, which gave me time to think about Mom and Dad. It made me wonder about the Search and Rescue that I prayed was activated on our behalf. Were our dads a part of the group? Would they come for us in helicopters like in an action movie? Would we be in trouble for our carelessness? Dad had told me time and again that most erosion in the mountains is caused by Search and Rescue teams helping people who were not prepared – people who had made poor decisions or people who needed help. Yikes! I had never wanted to be one of ‘those people.’
“I did a research project on Search and Rescue last year,” Sawyer began, clearly thinking the same thing. “In our case, where our dads will figure out what we planned, they’ll probably begin the search on the peak. A group of volunteers with trained dogs probably gathered this morning to plan. They decide on where we are most likely to be found. Since we had a satellite messenger, they’ll be able to locate that immediately. My prayer is that when they track down our satellite messenger and see that it’s buried, they’ll see the information that Marlee wrote in the snow and follow our tracks and the trail until they find us. In cases where the rescuers do not have a clue where the victim is, they actually make a grid system of an entire area, and they prioritize where to search based on the likelihood of where family and friends think the victim would be. But, like I said, I think Dad and Mr. Forrest will have deduced pretty accurately on our whereabouts.”
Ellie and I gaped at Sawyer. My simple question resulted in a textbook answer. “Interesting,” I said. “You figure Dad and Mr. Caleb will suppose that we took the ridge route rather than the more traveled northern trail?” I hopefully prodded.
Sawyer tilted his head, “That’s where they may lose some time in the search. Part of me thinks our dads would certainly expect us to have taken the ridge route since it’s quicker,–”
“Supposed to be quicker,” Ellie butted in.
“Right,” continued Sawyer, “but part of me is afraid that they would figure we’d take the safer northern trail. Then again, they’ll probably start the day by tracking down Dad’s satellite messenger. If they start there, they won’t even bother trying to guess where we are. They’ll probably start searching the whole basin area with dogs. Who knows, maybe they’ll even find Marshall’s pack. Since we camped there and had a fire, it should only take a little while to see our message in the snow and get on our trail.”
“Do you think our moms are helping in the search?” I asked.
Sawyer shrugged, “I can’t think of any reason they would not join the search teams – unless they’re too panicky, and the rangers are keeping them at the station,” he added quietly.
That thought made me shudder. My mom, Quinn Stanley, is very strong. She can keep cool when the rest of us are freaked out. But then again, I’ve never seen her in a situation where all three of her children were in danger – as in totally missing. AWOL! I wasn’t sure about Ms. Julia, Sawyer and Marshall’s mom, either. Anytime I have been around her, she was sweet and level-headed. But, who knows how she would cope when her boys were missing in an avalanche zone?
“Should we make excess noise or do anything to attract their attention?” Ellie asked.
Sawyer thought for a moment before deciding that we should save our energy to hike efficiently. “They’ll be calling our names and making themselves audible, so let’s wait until we hear them. If they see our note in the snow, they’ll hike up on us quickly compared to this limp pace we’re maintaining.”
“If they see the note I wrote in the snow?” Could they miss it? I had written the letters plenty large, in block letters to increase their visibility.
“It’s okay, Marlee,” Ellie soothed. “Sawyer’s just saying that it could take them a while to find your message, especially if they’re searching on foot rather than from helicopters. And there is always the possibility of a strong wind or even another avalanche wiping away what you wrote. But, like Sawyer says, they’ll have dogs to their advantage. And, even at our limp pace,” she shot an annoyed look at Sawyer when she used his word, “we could still manage to make it to the ranger station hours before dark.”
Sawyer nodded in approval of her summary. “When I said limp pace, I was making fun of myself,” he muttered. “You all are excelling, and I’m just sorry I’m slowing you down.”
“Stay positive, Captain!” I announced.
Ellie shook her head, and with an annoyed tone said, “Seriously, Sawyer, stop beating yourself up. The negativity is driving me crazy.” Uh-oh. This sounds like the Ellie and Sawyer we’ve all known for years.
“I appreciate your kindness, Ellie, but the truth is, we wouldn’t be in this predicament if it weren’t for me. Lydie is injured, Marshall’s weak, and Marlee had a stick in her head–”
“Avalanches happen, Sawyer!” Ellie shrieked. “But look how you’ve handled this situation!” She was shouting, but she didn’t sound angry at Sawyer. More like she was angry with how he was getting down on himself. “Don’t you get it, Sawyer Miles? We survived an avalanche! We spent a night without the comfort of a tent and sleeping bags and are alive. We are hiking out together. We are evacuating Lydie. You have done a fantastic job guiding us through challenges, and yet you keep beating yourself up. We can’t change the fact that we’re here now. Our job now is to trust God, be smart, and keep cooperating like you and I have miraculously done for the last few days. Please, change your attitude and stay as strong as I know you can be,” she implored.
Wow, it turns out Ellie’s speech was more of a pep talk. A bit brash, I suppose, but much more positive than the typical Ellie retort.
I glanced at Sawyer, wondering how he had perceived the ‘talk.’
He bit his lip, trying to hide a smile, and said, “I’ll have to give you a new nickname.”
“Huh?” Ellie mused.
“When we were younger and you used to yell at me all the time–”
“When did I yell at you?” Ellie yelled, making Sawyer grin.
“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted,” he teased, “Marsh and I used to refer to you as Yellie.”
