Chapter 6: Safe to Return?

If the snowfall followed the same pattern as last year, within an hour she wouldn't be able to see a foot in front of her. And if she didn't fall blindly off a ledge, she could easily die of hypothermia. She considered the survival gear and small tent in her backpack, but knew they wouldn't be enough to protect her for long. Even so, she fished out a pair of long pants and slipped them on under her torn sundress.

The TC! In her panic and fear she'd run out of the cave without the TC Comm.

Dammit! She could've made several emergency calls by now. She smacked her forehead with her palm in frustration.

What've I done to deserve this? She stared up at the darkening sky and bit back a sob. But a few tears managed to escape, freezing almost instantly to her cheeks. She wiped them away, staring at the small ice crystals on her glove.

She had no choice. Natalie bit her lip until she tasted blood. She'd have to go back to the cave. To the alien.

She turned around and began the slow, arduous trek back up the mountain.

She'd only taken a few cumbersome steps when she froze. Something stalked her. Something big and mean - she could feel it. It was the same feeling she'd had as a teenager when she'd had a rare encounter with a bear. But bears hadn't been seen on the mountain for years.

This had to be something or someone else.

Had the alien woken up and followed her? She frowned at the snow beneath her boots, half expecting to see footprints. Afraid of making any sudden movements and drawing her stalker's attention, she slowly looked around, squinting her eyes to see through the haze of snowflakes.

Nothing. No copper-green alien or sparkling diamonds. Only trees and snow.

After a moment, the feeling passed and she felt like she could breathe again.

If the alien's wandering around the mountainside looking for me, that means he's no longer in my cave. Of course, there was always the possibility that he'd come back, but she refused to think about that right now.

Somewhat reassured, she grabbed onto a boulder and pulled herself up the path. Slowly, taking careful, measured steps and using the slippery outcroppings of rock for support, she made her way back to the cave.

She was exhausted, freezing, hungry, and bruised - all because of those horrible raiders - not to mention terrified that an alien warrior might still be out to get her.

The cave, her only safe place, was now anything but. When she reached the massive rock hiding the entrance to the cave, she hesitated. Please be empty. Please let the alien be gone. Taking a deep breath, Natalie rounded the monolith.

He was still there, his unconscious body taking up most of the cave's entrance.

Will any of my prayers be answered today? She couldn't help feeling that God was punishing her for something.

Natalie let out a heavy sigh then fisted her hands on her hips and considered him. She couldn't leave him loose. If he woke, he might attack her before she could explain.

A blast of cold wind whistled across the cave's opening, sending a harsh, spine-chilling shiver through her body. She had to get the cave closed up and get warm, or it wouldn't matter if the alien regained consciousness. They'd both freeze to death.

The TC!

She took a step toward the wooden chest where she kept the TC then hesitated.

Should I tie up the alien first? She glanced down at him. It'll be okay, if I hurry.

She rushed forward, grabbing the pink, plastic communication device off the wooden chest. Last month there was a fascinating program on the TC about old devices called televisions and cell phones. When the Touch Cell was developed that combined the functions of both, as well as those of the old computers, it was hailed the sign of a new era of technological superiority. Locating the small gray Activate button, she pushed it, or at least she thought she did. Her fingers were so cold, she couldn't tell. Having the voice-activated model sure would have been useful right about now, but the damn things were so expensive only a handful of people in the country could afford them.

She pulled off her damp gloves and pushed the button again, harder this time, her frozen thumb stinging in pain.

"Service temporarily unavailable. Please try again later," the overly friendly, fake-metallic voice said. She nearly threw the TC on the floor and stomped on it. Did anything sold by Cell Soft ever work like it was supposed to? The TC should allow her to make emergency calls, even if she'd used up her monthly allotment of hours.

Her hand still poised above her head, ready to chuck the useless device, she realized it would be another week before she was allotted more time. She sank to her knees, letting the TC fall from her hand onto the hard, earthen floor.

Two months ago, the government had mandated a restriction on the amount of time anyone could use the airwaves, only allowing six hours per month. They'd hoped the restriction would help keep communication channels open in the event of a natural disaster or emergency.

Natalie shook her head, a frustrated chuckle escaping her lips. I have an unconscious alien in my home! How is that not a freaking emergency?

She was seriously regretting spending her last hour for the month on an episode of Space Ranger Walker. But she'd convinced herself last night that doing without communication for a week wouldn't be a problem.

After taking two more puffs from her inhaler, Natalie climbed to her feet and stumbled to the survival tent she'd set up to the right of the cave. Kneeling before the wooden chest at the foot of her cot, she struggled to make her frozen fingers slide open the copper locks and lift the lid. Once it was open, she grabbed a pair of thermal socks then quickly dragged off her boots. The socks she'd been wearing were soiled and damp from her adventures in the woods, so she replaced them with the thermal pair.

Next, she rooted around in the chest for her silver thermal gloves. Her fingers were so cold and numb, she was afraid they'd shatter like ice if she touched anything. Standing up, she glanced longingly at the thick blankets on her cot, wanting desperately to crawl beneath them and sleep. But that would have to wait.

She made her way to the cave entrance and tried to climb up onto the boulder that protruded from the left side of the opening. Four attempts later, she succeeded. When her father had set this place up as a backup residence, he'd installed a roll of canvas along the top edge of the opening to act as a door during the winter. After finally managing to loosen the ties that kept the canvas neatly rolled, she let go. The canvas came down with a soft whoosh and settled snugly over the opening.