Chapter 57
He knew exactly where that cabin was.
The SUV lurched again. Sven’s hand gripped the steering wheel so hard, it felt like putty in his hands. The vehicle strained, fought the rough grade of the old, pitted mountain road.
He remembered the line from one of Farley Mowat’s books, about someone on Canada’s East Coast calling a bumpy route to a destination a ‘road’. How Mowat had quipped, ‘This was a typical Newfoundland funny’. He’d laughed at the comment back then, thinking it clever.
He totally understood it now. He was living it.
The snow was blinding, in front of him. It was only his GPS and his intimate knowledge of the road that was keeping him on track.
And that too, he knew, was nothing but foolish.
Better times here, filtered back into his mind. Without the snow. Clear blue skies. A place to rest, that cabin had been, for a young man fighting to find his identity. Oh, he’d kept it a secret from his family and his friends. His circle. They’d all thought him relatively well-adjusted.
But he’d known. One of a huge pile of family, he’d wondered, often. And the uncertainty had turned into a burn in his gut.
How would he make his mark in the world? In the lives of the people around him?
He’d found that cabin when he’d needed to separate from the world, and had hiked up here, alone. He’d required more shelter than his tent, for he’d developed an illness, suddenly. Didn’t feel well. And when the unexpected fever hit him, it had weakened him severely.
But when he’d found the tiny cabin, really, almost a shed, in his ill state…
…it had felt like the heavens themselves had reached down to carve it out of nature, from the scant wood available, and had set it there…just for him.
To take care of him. Give him a resting spot.
Give him life.
It had taken three days, but the fever had broken. Soon he’d had the strength to venture outside, and when he had, he’d encountered the most glorious sunrise of his life. Alone. Out there, high on Terrence Point.
He’d come to understand so much that trip, and on subsequent sabbaticals to that cabin. Life. What he wanted to do with it. How he wanted to serve. Show others the glory of this mountain, if respected, and honored as the stronger one. His path had been formed back here. Ski patrol. Military service. Search and Rescue. Protector of those he loved.
Now, life was leading him back to that same spot.
Was this his final lesson, he wondered? Was he going to end the journey that started here, so many years ago, at the same spot?
He steeled himself. He’d learned he needed to care for others. Do for them.
Though outright love, for a special person…it hadn’t been at the forefront of his own personal mission.
Now, it was outright love that was leading him back there.
Was that the lesson?
He didn’t know. But he was determined to complete his mission. Do what he’d come to do, and also…hopefully…find out what the mountain wanted him to know.
The car jumped, careened. He did go off the road, hurtled for crazy wild seconds, then suddenly, he was back on the road, sweating hard, despite the winter cold.
He stopped the vehicle. Just sat there, breathing heavily, his breath fogging in the coolness of the interior of the SUV.
Well. Okay then. And was reminded of the lesson again.
He just hoped he wasn’t disrespecting this mountain, or the endless British Columbia skies that poured forth the icy snow during his hastily decided upon quest.
“Okay, Terrence Point. You’re in charge. You’ve always been in charge, and I honor that.” His breath puffed out, filled the interior. “It’s all up to you, what happens. I’ll do what I came to, the best I can. But the rest…is up to you.” It was something he’d learned through hard experience, on one of his tours, as part of Delta North. Things could be planned for, the plans followed, but it didn’t change a damn thing.
You do the best you can. The outcome? It’s still out of your hands.
“I leave my life in your hands.”
And it wasn’t just his life. But his love’s.
If she lost the one who had functioned as her guardian through her worst times, if she learned she'd been unable to guard his life when he needed her…what would happen to her heart? Her spirit? Would it recover?
And if he lost his life today…
They were all tied up in it, together. But now, he had one final request to make. He’d made a few, over in Afghanistan.
This one was as important as any of those.
“Please, Terrence Point. Give me one more life today.” He breathed from the immensity of the request. And suddenly, felt a wild kinship with the beast he’d come to save.
“The warrior that’s guarded her all these years.” He wiped away an errant tear. “Terrence Point? Please. Give me Buddy’s life.”
* * *
Keara listened, with the others, as the conversation went down.
Christian held the phone to his ear, speaking to Renata at the watch station. “Yeah, I saw the image. The peaks, the mountain terrain, all behind that shed. All I know is I’ve never seen the place before. I didn’t know of its existence.” He clicked her onto speakerphone, so everyone could hear.
Renata continued, urgency clouding her voice. “Damn it all, Christian. We can’t go hunting for it right now, though every fiber in my being is screaming that Sven needs help. The weather is crazy. Much as I want to, we can’t.” She paused. “Wait a sec. Here’s Jonas. He wants to talk to you.”
“Christian. Does the shed have a weird square thing on the door instead of a doorknob? Can you zoom in? That’s the only identifying feature I can think of that would show up in a photo.”
“Let me take a look.” Christian peered at the picture that had now been circulated to anyone who might be able to help, and enlarged it. He strained to see. “Maybe. There’s snowfall in front of it, thick, so I can’t quite make it out. But…yeah. I see it now. Yeah. I think so. There is.”
Jonas’s voice darkened. “Holy shit, Bro. There’s no way any of us can make it up there tonight. It’s in a crazy spot, and worse? There’s a sheer drop, bloody close. It’s hell’s own cabin. If Sven gets out of this alive…it’ll be more of a miracle than anything that went down in Afghanistan.”