Snowbound

Katrina cursed as her car slipped yet again, sliding toward the side of the road. The snow was falling thick and fast, the world a white blur that made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. She'd been a fool to attempt to drive in it. The interview at the ski lodge had gone well, and she'd left feeling confident that she'd be receiving a call about the waitressing job soon. By the time the interview was over the snow had started to fall. Her prospective employer had tried to discourage her from driving home through it, but Katrina didn't have the money to purchase a room for the night, and she couldn't bear the thought of asking for charity and crashing on someone's couch, or in the common room. She'd purchased new tires recently, so she'd been reasonably certain she could make it through a little powder.

The track down the mountain had been fine initially, a bit slippery but nothing that some slow, careful steering couldn't handle. The snow had gotten steadily worse as she made her way down. Katrina feared that she was now in the middle of a bona fide blizzard. Why, oh why had she let her pride get the better of her common sense? Surely the pity on stranger's faces when they saw her without a room of her own would be better than ending up frozen in a ravine somewhere. The more her car slid around the more she became certain that this was the end for her. Her car would slide off the road and be covered by a mountain of snow, and they wouldn't uncover her cold, dead body till springtime. She sighed and gently stepped on the gas again, the car chugging along at roughly five miles an hour.

At the very least, she should have brought chains. What kind of idiot drives up a mountain without the proper equipment for her car? She shook her head, making silent mental pleas to God or whatever deity might listen to just get her out this safely. She could barely even tell whether she was actually on the road at this point. For all she knew, she could be driving across a snowy field; everything was just white. There seemed to be a slight indentation in the fallen snow, and she was following it closely, hoping that it was the road. Who knew where she would end up if she lost the road. Her car battery and fuel would only last so long; without the heater she knew she'd probably catch hypothermia and die. The shelter the car would provide would be minimal protection from the cold. Shivering at the very thought, she cranked the heater up a little higher.

"Slow and steady, Katrina," she told herself. There was no one else on the road, and no need to hurry. Oh, except for the impending darkness of nightfall, which would make her journey even more difficult. If it was hard to see the road now, it would be nearly impossible once darkness fell, and her only light was the headlights of the car, reflecting off the falling snow and making it even more confusing. Was it possible it was falling even thicker and faster now? Shit, she'd really screwed herself over on this one. She carefully urged the car forward. She'd come to far to turn back now; anyway, her car would probably have a worse time struggling uphill through the snow. At least this way she had gravity on her side.

She idly flicked through the radio stations, searching for a weather report or music or anything, really, but she found nothing but static. Not surprising, given her location and the circumstances. Her cell phone had been without a signal since she'd started up the mountain. How far had she come? She'd been on the road at least an hour, possibly longer. She hadn't checked the time when she left, and the slow slogging through the snow made time drag by. She could have been out here for days with how slowly it seemed to move. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten all day. She had a granola bar in her purse, maybe if she could ease her car to a stop she could fish it out. She started to steer to the side of the road, then laughed at herself. What did it matter if she stopped in the middle of the road? There was no one else around. She changed course back to the center of the road, and then it happened.

Her car hit a patch of ice, or maybe some especially slippery snow, or a groove in the road; whatever the cause, the result was the same. Her car began to drift towards the opposite edge of the road. Katrina frantically tried to steer into the turn, although every instinct of self preservation made her want to pull the car the other way. Logically she knew if she had any chance of regaining control, she had to steer into it. Her efforts were having no effect. The car was steadily progressing to the side of the road, to the edge that dropped off into - what? She couldn't tell.

"Please, please, come one, come ON!" she begged her car. The tires seemed to catch, and for a split second Katrina had hope. It was quickly destroyed as the nose of her car dipped over the edge, and the pull of gravity and the forward motion of the car completed the job. In a moment, she was hurtling down the side of a steep hill - at least it wasn't one of the ravines, maybe a hill she could survive - at breakneck speed. She tried to pump her brakes, but the only result was that her car swerved from side to side, threatening to tip over. There was a grove of trees at the bottom of the hill. Katrina screamed, covered her eyes, and hoped for the best.

BANG!

Her car took the first impact on the passenger side, the hit sending it careening sideways, where the tail end of the driver's side was slammed into another tree. The back end of the car lifted, flipping up into the air, and Katrina screamed again as the whole thing flipped upside down, the windows shattering sa the roof of the car made contact with the ground. The car slid forward again, finally coming to rest against another tree.

Dazed, Katrina tried to gather her thoughts. She was suspended upside down, hanging from her seat by her seat belt. Something was pressing into her ribs, and her arm was twisted painfully against the door. Dimly she was aware of something wet running through her hair, and she reached her free hand up to touch, recoiling at the sudden pain. Her fingers were covered in blood. Her pinioned arm was throbbing, and her ribs were screaming from the pressure. She had to free herself from the wreckage. Shakily, she reached for her seat belt release, bracing her legs against the roof of the car to support her weight. The catch came undone and she fell to her knees, her face smashed against the steering wheel. There was a hole to her left where the window should have been, halfway sunk into the snow, but she crawled through it, hissing in pain as she put pressure on her injured arm and hastily lifting it. She must have broken it.

Katrina freed herself from the ruins of her car and tried to take stock of her surroundings. Her head felt fuzzy and muddled. What should she do? She couldn't stay here. Maybe if she could make her way back to the road someone would come along. A snowplow, perhaps, or someone else as crazy as she was, to be out driving through this mess. She took one wobbly step in the direction of the road, then another. Her teeth began to chatter and she wished she'd worn warmer clothing beneath her coat. Thankfully she'd been wearing sensible shoes and not high heels. The blood was still seeping from her head, and she blinked and rubbed at her eye to clear her vision. Somehow she became fixated on the idea of making it to the road, as if she was guaranteed to find assistance there. She looked up the steep hill, wondering how she could complete the climb. Well, she'd just have to find a way.

Holding her broken arm close to her body, she trudged up the hill, her steps erratic and swerving back and forth as she tried to find her footing and clear her head. She was so cold, colder than she'd ever been in her life. Her body was shaking so bad it was hard to stand. She giggled as she fell into the snow, some small part of her aware that it wasn't funny at all; it was serious, possible a matter of life and death. Katrina contemplated death as she lay in the snow. The snow made everything look so white and pure. Idly she wondered if Heaven was filled with snow. Maybe warm snow. She should get up, she knew, but she was just getting comfortable. Her body felt like it was warming up. Maybe the snow was acting like insulation, keeping her body heat in. You're dying, Katrina. The thought rose up from somewhere , but she dismissed it as irrelevant. Even if it were true, what a lovely place to go, everything so soft and beautiful...

*

*

The angel of death was not AT ALL like he should be. The black hood was about the only part the stories got right. No scythe, no mystical aura around him, and surely angels weren't supposed to curse or place blame on the human they'd come to collect.

"You little idiot, what the HELL where you thinking, driving through that?" Death was certainly grumpy.

Katrina wondered why the angel didn't already know. Surely her death was written down in his magic book somewhere: Katrina Walsh, November 24th, cause of death: Driving like a moron through the snow. RIP.

"Wake up, stay with me!"

Well of course she was going to stay with the angel, where else did he think she was going to go. Death was lifting her up now, and throwing her over his shoulder. What an unusual way to be taken to the afterlife, Katrina mused. She'd expected something a little more, well, magical. Shouldn't she be leaving her corporeal body and floating up into the sky? Death was awfully human-like. She wondered if he was new, maybe still in training. Of course, she WOULD get a newbie. She banged against the back of Death while he walked, like a sack of potatoes. She'd always imagined something more graceful. Oh well...

Katrina closed her eyes again, confident Death would awaken her when they reached their final destination.

*

*

Ow. Katrina groggily fought to open her eyes. Her feet felt like they were being pricked by dozens of tiny needles. She jerked her foot closer to herself, trying to make the pain stop. Her foot was puled back away from her, and she became aware of a pressure, rubbing the pins and needles into her foot. Someone was causing this pain! She jerked her foot away again, and was met with a low growl.

"Stop it, you little fool! Do you want to lose your toes to frostbite?"

She finally succeeded in opening her eyes. She appeared to be on a couch. She was inside somewhere, probably a log cabin if the interior was any indication. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace in front of her. The room was almost completely dark save the fire light. There was a man at the base of the couch, holding her foot between his hands. Ha, there was the source of the pain! Not comprehending the situation yet, she tried to withdraw her foot from his hands again. He jerked it back again, roughly, the harsh movement making her aware of the blanket atop her, and her bare body underneath it. Why was she naked?

"Am I dead?" she asked the strange man.

"No, but it was a very near miss. What were you thinking, driving through a blizzard like that?" He was angry, but she couldn't be bothered about that now.

"I'm naked." she said.

"Had to get you out those wet, cold clothes. Don't worry, I didn't look. Well, much." The man offered her a sheepish grin and Katrina pulled the blanket up higher over her chest, crying out in pain as she was sharply reminded of her broken arm.

"What? What is it?" asked the man, and Katrina mutely proffered her arm. He rose and examined it, causing her to hiss in pain as he prodded at it. "Broken," sighed the man. "Of course." He stood and left the room. Katrina brought her good hand up to her head, feeling the dried, crusted blood around the sore spot. Her ribs ached dully every time she drew breath, but they didn't seem to be broken. Her feet were still tingling unpleasantly, and she rubbed them against each other, trying to work away the cold. The mad reappeared a moment later, with gauze and a stick. "There's no way we;re getting down this mountain tonight," he said. "We'll have to splint it for the time being, till we can get you some real medical help. He knelt in front of her prone form, extending a hand for her arm. "This... is going to hurt."

Katrina reluctantly gave over her arm, telling herself it was for the best. She wanted to continue to favor her arm and hold it against herself, but she knew the man was right. It would do better in the long term if she took care of it now. The man held the stick against her arm to act as a brace, then started to wrap. She hissed through her teeth as he put pressure on the broken bones. Please, let it be over soon.

"I'm Daniel, by the way," said the man.

"Katrina," she introduced herself.

"Well Katrina, what were you doing driving through a blizzard?" She was certain he was trying to distract her from the pain, but she welcomed it. She explained about the job, about being broke, and most of all being an idiot. By the time she had reached the part about the Angel of Death coming for her he had finished.

"I suppose that was you," she said. "I guess you're not really an angel." Daniel chuckled.

"I'm afraid not. Sorry to disappoint. Just an ordinary man trying to enjoy his private cabin getaway without silly girls crashing into his front yard."

"Was it really your front yard?" Katrina craned her head about, looking for a window.

"Not quite, but I saw your headlights from a distance, heard the crash, and left to investigate. Good thing, too, because you were nearly dead when I found you. You're lucky I could follow your tracks. Why on earth would you leave the car? You had to know that was your best bet of being found."

Katrina shrugged, unable to explain her reasoning. It had made sense at the time, but looking back she supposed it had been rather foolish.

"How are your feet feeling? Any numbness?" asked Daniel. Katrina flexed her toes experimentally, realizing that the pins and needles had stopped at some point in her story.

"No, they're fine," she said truthfully. She cleared her throat. "Um. Thank you. I guess I owe you my life." She gazed down at the blanket, unsure of how to thank someone for a gift of that magnitude.

"Yes. Well. Must've been your lucky day," he said gruffly, seeming as uncomfortable with the topic as she was. "So hopefully in the morning the storm will have abated somewhat and I can drive you into town. I'm afraid you're stuck here with me tonight." Again, the sheepish grin. "Are you hungry? Or do you need to um, use the facilities?" he averted his gaze as he asked, but once he spoke the words Katrina realized that she was both ravenous and had an uncomfortably full bladder.

"Um, yes. To both." Daniel directed her down the hall, and she carefully got up, wrapping the blanket around herself so as not to give him a glimpse of her body. At least she still had her underwear on, she noticed with relief. She followed his directions and locked the door behind her, just to be safe. After relieving herself, she examined her head in the bathroom mirror. An ugly gash reached from above her brow almost back to her ear. She turned on the tap and dabbed at it as best she could with her bare hands, wiping the dried streaks of blood from her face. There was a knock on the door, and she opened it a crack, poking her head out. Daniel was standing off to the side, pointedly not looking at her, holding out a few articles of clothing.

"I thought you might like to put something on," he said. "Sorry all I have to offer is my stuff." Katrina thanked him and pulled the clothing inside with her, re-locking the door. He'd given her a pair of pajama pants, which would doubtless be slightly too long, but the drawstring waist meant they would probably stay up if tightened properly. He'd also included a couple of shirts; a tank and a t-shirt, and she layered them both on, trying to cover her nipples. The pants were a bit too long, as expected, but they didn't show any indication of sliding down and giving him a free show. She opened the door and found Daniel sitting on the couch, holding a steaming bowl of something. He offered it to her as she came into the room.

"It's just chicken noodle, nothing fancy," he said, but Katrina fell on it like a starving person. The warmth of the soup coated her insides pleasantly, and she relished the heat radiating from the bowl on her still cold fingers. Daniel busied himself with the fire while she ate. Hearing her spoon scraping against the bottom of the bowl, he offered her more, but she politely declined. Her stomach warm and full, Katrina felt her eyes begin to grow heavy. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket over the top of her, too tired to feel the least bit shameful over making herself so at home.

"You can take the bed, if you like," offered Daniel, gesturing down the hall, presumably at the bedroom. "I can sleep on the couch." Katrina mumbled that she was fine, and closed her eyes. Sleep overtook her immediately.

*

*

She heard strange sounds, a rustling, and popping and cracking. Katrina pulled the blanket around her tighter, startling herself awake by the pain in her arm. She opened her eyes. Where was she? All the details from last night came pouring back in. The interview. The snow, the car crash. Daniel. As if summoned by the thought, he appeared, carrying an armful of logs for the fire.

"You're awake," he said. "How are you feeling this morning?" Concern was etched on his face.

"Fine, a little worse for the wear, but fine." She smiled at him. She hadn't noticed last night, but Daniel was actually a very handsome man. Tall, fit, with an attractive crop of black hair and an even more attractive smile, one that he favored her with now.

"How about some breakfast?" She eagerly agreed, and followed him as he made his way to the kitchen, insisting that she be allowed to help.

"You really should be resting..." Daniel was hesitant to allow her to do too much.

"I'll rest after breakfast," she said. "Anyway, we'll be on our way to the hospital soon and I can rest there."

"Ah." Daniel paused. "About that." He drew back the curtains from the kitchen window and Katrina saw, to her horror, that the snow was still falling fast and thick. It was even higher than last night, and she knew that there was no way they were making it out of the cabin today. "Sorry," said Daniel apologetically, as if he were somehow responsible. Katrina was dismayed. She felt like the snow was keeping her prisoner. At least the other inmate is handsome, she thought.

"Well, perhaps tomorrow then." She smiled bravely. Her poor arm! But there was nothing to be done about it.

"Tomorrow," Daniel agreed, and began to pull food from the fridge. There was a pot of coffee on the counter, and he offered her a cup, which she gratefully accepted. He set her to work turning the sausages, after ensuring she wasn't a vegetarian. He whipped the eggs, a job that would be too difficult to do one-handed, and set about making fluffy omelets for them.

"I've never had anyone cook me breakfast before," laughed Katrina. "Do you do this for all the women who stay over?" she asked playfully.

"Well I would, if I had guests," said Daniel, "But for some reason I don't get too many out here. And seriously? No one has ever cooked you breakfast?"

"Well, my mom," Katrina amended, "But a guy... no."

"Do you not stay the night, or just only date assholes who don't care about you?" He seemed to be taking the issue rather personally. Katrina thought back to her ex-boyfriend. She'd stayed the night, many times, but he had been far too self-absorbed to take the time to fix her a meal. He had taken her out for dinners, true, but she couldn't picture him bothering to cook up food for anyone but himself.