Cold Spell

Chapter 1

It's cold…the wind is dry and strong….Around them eternal daylight skewed their concept of time….Their shelter, a hole in the ground, was dark but it kept them from the winds…the cold and biting winds….

It's two in the morning of the first night….

"Frank?"

"Yes, Joe?"

"Did you ever see the movie, Alive?"

"The one about the rugby team that crashed in the Andes?"

"Yeah, that one!"

"No."

"Frank!"

"I read the book."

"They ate the pilot."

"Joe!"

"What about the Donner Party…?"

"Joe."

"The Lord of the Flies?"

"Joe! Would you shut up! I'm trying to get some sleep!"

"Sorry."

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"What was the name of the movie with Tom Hanks and his ball, Wilson?"

"That's it kiddo, keep this up and I will put you on the menu."

"Sorry."

"Frank?"

"WHAT!"

"Do you really think we're going to get out of this?"

A pause…heavier in the gloom…

"Yes, I do, little brother."

"Frank?"

"For the love of God! What, Joe!"

"You still didn't tell me what the name of that movie was! And you know that's going to bug me all night!"

"Castaway."

"Thanks, Frank."

"You're welcome, Joe."

The second day was not much better.

It was cold but the wind had tamed down a bit.

The brothers had been lucky to find the small opening – probably an old burrow. Whose? Neither one was really anxious to find out. They just hoped the previous tenant didn't miss the view!

It had been twelve hours now since the small plane Frank had been flying suffered engine failure and crashed down somewhere over the Canadian arctic tundra.

Cold, desolate, barren, remote - not exactly the best place in the world to be stranded.

But the teenagers knew they couldn't dwell on the hopelessness of their situation, or else they'd never see Bayport again. This was going to be no cakewalk. The arctic is a dangerous place…even in late summer.

With no supplies, their condition was perilous, and their only real hope of survival was a quick rescue. Neither boy was prepared for a long-term 'extreme' camping trip. Not like this.

The night had been cold and they had taken it in shifts, waking each other every hour, as a hypothermic sleep was a real worry. They were lucky that the temperature over the night hadn't gone below freezing, but it was close….

And now as this new day dawned, more an extension of the night, and day prior to that, as the sun hung low in the sky twenty-four hours a day during the arctic summer - the boys took stock and didn't like what they saw….

"Is that all?"

"Yes Frank, that's all."

"What about your back pockets?"

"I emptied them first. That's where I had my pocket knife."

"You're sure?"

"I have nothing else. Would you prefer to check yourself?"

"Joe, how can you only have your pocket knife, wallet and a stick of chewing gum in your pockets?"

"Gee, sorry, big brother, I must have left the survival kit in my other pants! Yours are no better!"

"Well at least I have matches—"

"Yeah, speaking of which, why exactly do you have matches, anyway? You don't smoke!"

"I was a boy scout."

"So was I!"

"Then where are your matches?"

"Shut up."

Between the two of them, the brothers had two pocket knives, two wallets, one pack of matches, one handkerchief, a set of keys, a whistle, a notebook, a dull pencil…and a stick of chewing gum.

And the front end of the small plane Frank had been flying.

However, it wasn't much help, as it had been too busted up for any of the equipment to work – the boys were actually incredibly lucky to be alive, with only a few minor injuries, the worst being a nasty gash on Frank's forehead, now bandaged with one of the sleeves from Joe's shirt.

The older boy had been knocked out on impact but, to his younger brother's immense relief, revived shortly afterwards.

The wings and tail had been broken off and were scattered for about a mile, along with the first aid and survival kits.

"Frank?"

"What?"

"I'm starved. Do you mind if I eat the gum?"

"Leave me half."

"It's a stick of chewing gum!"

"When I'm freezing my ass off Joe, every calorie counts! Now leave me half of the gum!"

"It's calorie free!"

"Yeah well, so is your head, kiddo. Actually, forget about leaving me half; just give it to me now!"

"You don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, Joe. I trust you with my life….However, with a half a stick of chewing gum? That's a different story."

Knowing how hard it would be for a rescue team to find them if they wandered around, the boys decided to make the burrow their home away from home, for now.

When it had started to get late the prior evening, they had considered using the plane for shelter, but it offered no protection from the wind, so when Joe accidentally stumbled onto the literal, hole in the ground, Frank realized it would be better than staying in the plane – well, warmer at least. So they moved next door.

Tundra comes from the Finnish word for 'treeless plain,' and that presented its own difficulties when the boys set about starting a fire – they had no kindling of any type!

Frank told Joe to hang around 'home' while he went in search of kindling to make a fire. Foremost in the older brother's mind was that they needed this fire for more than just warmth.

It would be visible to any planes in the area, but also it would serve as a deterrent to large predators. The dark-haired boy knew their biggest threats were bears, wolves and wolverines. The other animals such as caribou and musk ox shouldn't be a problem; it wasn't rutting season. And he wasn't concerned at all about the smaller predators like the arctic fox, as they would only be a nuisance, not a threat, to two teenage boys.

Shivering slightly as a gust of wind cut through his jacket, he pulled up his coat collar and wished he had something warmer to wear. But then he chuckled, something warmer to wear would be low on his list if he could have what he wanted right now!

Surveying the boggy wet tundra area, his handsome face was marred with a frown. This really was one of the worst places to get stuck. The ground was a very barren rock-strewn wasteland.

The only good thing he could see at a glance was that they'd have no trouble finding drinking water, as little pockets of fresh water dotted the landscape. However, unless Joe scavenged something from the wreck, they had nothing to put the water in. And Frank knew that they really should boil the water first before they drank it, although being stranded where they were did have one advantage. Due to the harshness of the environment, there was less chance of there being anything in the water that would make them sick…or worse.

Sighing, he turned around and watched his brother for a few minutes as the blond-haired boy was seeing what they could use from the plane. So far, he'd pulled off the seat cushions and lining, and tossed them on the ground away from the wreck.

Frank's frown grew. Unlike his own coat, which was heavy and down-lined, the coat Joe had been wearing on the plane was thinner and didn't offer as much protection.

And as he watched the younger teen stop to put his mitten-clad hand over his nose for a moment before starting to haul the seat cushions towards their burrow, Frank realized they were going to have a real problem if it got much colder tonight than it had last night….And last night it had been so cold they had huddled together blowing on their hands – cold even through their thin mittens - and alternating between sleeping a little, being awakened, and praying for morning.

They needed to find the survival kit. In it there would be a blanket and some other stuff that might mean the difference between freezing to death and surviving. And like he had already told Joe the night before, they were going to get out of this!

The big problem was, like the rest of the plane, the kits were somewhere north of them, and Frank didn't relish the idea of setting off to look for them without some way of navigating. The last thing they needed right now was to become even more lost than they already were!

He'd managed to send out a distress signal before they crashed, but he had no idea how long it would take for searchers to find them.

Stopping to rub his head, which was aching no matter what he told Joe, Frank sighed. One of them was going to have to go in search of the kits – they had no choice.

Now all he had to do was convince his oft-times pig-headed brother that it should be him. With his warmer jacket, Frank knew he was better prepared for a trek across the barrens, particularly if he got stuck spending the night away.

But somehow he didn't think that Joe was going to see it that way.

"Oh well," he muttered, "No use putting off the inevitable." Tucking his hands under his armpits, Frank started back towards 'home' and prepared himself for the 'great debate.'

Hardy versus Hardy, round one.