Chapter 2

A gust of cold air threw particles of snow onto my face. I unbuckled, and climbed out of the cabin, and down onto the snow. Now I had to look around, so I opened my eyes, and found that my sight was none too good, quite apart from the pain. Everything was blurry. I closed my eyes and recalled where the building had been relative to my landing, and headed off in that direction, moving like a blind man.

I came to the edge of the landing strip. The packed snow was deeper here, and I began to climb a low rise of land, taking only glimpses to reassure myself when I felt it necessary. Finally, I got to the top of the rise, and looked around.

Yes!

There, perhaps a hundred feet away, was the aerial, the building, and—marvellously—a slight wisp of smoke rising from this.

I stood there a moment, breathing slowly, my eyes closed, and then began to make my way toward the building. The going was slow, for my eyes seemed to hurt worse than ever, and I fell twice. At last I was standing in front of the semi-circular end of a station building, peering through squinting eyes at the door in the center of it. Beside the door was a sign with large letters that I could just make out: “Ross Point Airport.” Above this was another sign that said, in red letters: “Closed.”

My heart was in my mouth as I walked forward. I thought of the smoke I had seen, and assured myself that I hadn’t imagined it.

At last I came to the door, found the handle, and pulled it sideways and down. I heard it unlatch, but when I pushed, the door didn’t move.

It was stuck. Or bolted.

I couldn’t really see at all now, so I kept my eyes closed, and in my panic hammered desperately on the metal of the door with my gloved fists. It hurt, but I heard the dull booming sound echoing beyond the door, and imagined it passing through the station.

I stopped when I was winded, and listened. Everything was silent, except for the vague wind.

Panic gripped me again and I shouted hoarsely, “Help me! Please!For God’s sake!”

I hammered again on the door until, exhausted, I leaned against it, the fur front of my hat pressing against the metal of the door. I was so cold now that I couldn’t feel my extremities. I knew what was to come: the gradual feeling of comforting warmth that would spread through my body as I froze to death.

I was still steeling myself for more yelling and pounding when I heard a low scraping sound from the other side of the door. I felt the surface vibrate, and stepped away, almost falling in my fatigue. Then, incredibly, I heard more than saw the door open. Without speaking, I staggered forward into the dimness of the interior.

Somehow, I kept on my feet while I groaned, “My eyes! My eyes!”

The door behind me was closed with a bang, and then bolted. Then I heard a man’s voice, deep and raspy.

“Where are your goggles, man? You can’t go around out there without goggles.”

“I know,” I gasped. I tried to articulate more, but felt myself begin to collapse. Strong hands took me by the shoulders.

“You should lie down. Keep your eyes closed.” He guided me along. Then, stopping me at last, helped me out of my parka. “Okay. Here. Lie down.”

My lids flickered then, and I bit back another groan. With the man’s help I sat and then lay down on a cot. Then I felt something soft placed over my face.

“Wait,” he said, and I heard his footsteps as he went away.

The footsteps returned. I felt the cot sag on one side as the man sat down.

“Here,” he said and, moving the cloth on my face, lifted my head slightly and slipped a strap behind it that was apparently attached to a piece of fabric that rested over my eyes.

“This is a sleeping mask. You need to keep it on, probably for at least forty-eight hours. You got snow blindness.”

I nodded.

“Close your eyes,” he added, lifting the mask. “This is going to sting—drops for your eyes.” I felt fingers on first one lid, grunted at the sting caused by a drop landing on my eyeball. Then he did the other eye and replaced the mask.

“Some water?” he asked.

“Please.”

He lifted my head and let me drink from a cup. When I had finished, he lowered me again and I let out a sigh of something like relief, despite the continuing pain in my eyes.