“My thanks to whoever thought of this,” Uri said. “The toes are getting numb already.”
Jan helped him to dress in the swaying snowtrack. The lunging ride improved when they came to a road and speeded up. They only followed it for a few minutes, then turned off into the deep snow again.
“Security checkpoint ahead,” Brackley said. “We have to go around it.”
“I had no idea of your shoe size,” Jan said. “So I bought three pairs of shoes, different sizes.”
“Let me try them. I’ll wad some bandages around the toes to soak up blood. I think these are the ones that will do.”
“Do they fit well in the heel?”
“Fine.” Dressed and warming up, Uri looked around at the circle of watching men, barely seen in the light of the torch. “I don’t know how to thank you people…”
“You don’t. Our pleasure,” Brackley said as the vehicle slowed and stopped. Two of the men left in silence and the snowtrack started tip again. “You two will be the last. I’ll be driving and I’ll take care of disposing of this thing. Bill, I’ll drop you at the spot I showed you on the map. After that you’re on your own.
“I’ll take care of it,” Jan said.
Jan rearranged the packs, putting over three-quarters of the weight into the one he would carry, then adjusting the lighter one on Uri’s shoulders.
“I can carry more than that,” Uri said.
“On foot maybe, but if you can just carry yourself on skis I’ll be happy. The weight’s no problem for me.”
The snowtrack was empty when they stopped for the last time. Brackley came around from the cab and opened the rear and they slid down to the icy surface of the road.
“That’s the trail,” Brackley said, pointing. “Get off the road fast and don’t stop until you’re under the trees. Good luck.”
He was gone before Jan could phrase an answer. The snowtrack roared away, sending back a shower of broken bits of ice, and they were alone. Struggling through the thick snow to the trees. Uri held the small torch while Jan knelt and strapped his shoes into the skis, then put on his own.
“Slip the thong of the ski pole over your wrist like this, see. So the pole hangs from your wrist. Now move your hand straight down and grab. This way you can’t lose a pole. Now here is the motion you will have to use, a sliding one. As you slide your right foot forward you push against the pole in your left hand. Then shift weight and push the opposite ski with the opposite pole. That’s it, keep going.”
“It’s… not easy.”
“It will be as soon as you get the rhythm right. Watch me. Push… push… Now you go ahead, follow those tracks, I’ll be right behind you.”
Uri struggled ahead and was just getting into the swing of the movements when the path turned off and they faced the soft powder snow of the deep forest. Jan went first then, striking a path through the unbroken surface. The sky was growing light above the black silhouettes of the trees and when they came to a clearing Jan stopped, looking up at the moon riding above the moving clouds. Clearly visible ahead was the grim shape of a mountain.
“Ben Griam Beg,” Jan said. “We go around it…”
“Thank God! I thought you might want to take me over it.” Uri was panting, drenched with sweat.
“No need. We’ll hit frozen lakes and streams on the other side, going will be easier and we’ll make better time.”
“How far do we have to go?”
“About eighty kilometers as the crow flies, but we won’t be able to get there directly.”
“I don’t think I can make it,” Uri said, staring with misgivings at the frozen wilderness ahead. “Do you know about me, I mean were you told…”
“Sara told me everything, Uri.”
“Good. I have a gun. If I can’t make it you are to shoot me and go on. Do you understand?”
Jan hesitated — then slowly nodded.
Thirteen
They went on. They were stopping far oftener than Jan wanted to because Uri was not able to keep up a steady pace. But he was learning, going faster with less effort. They had only four more hours of darkness. At the next stop, around the shoulder of the mountain, Jan checked their heading with the gyrocompass and tried to mark his course with an identifiable spot in the terrain ahead.
“Going… to have to have… another shot,” Uri said.
“We’ll take ten minutes then, something to eat and drink.”
“Damn… fine idea.”
Jan dug two dried fruit bars from his pack and they chewed on them, washed down with water from the insulated bottle.
“Better than the food inside,” Uri said, wolfing his portion. “I was there three days, nothing much to eat, less to drink. It’s a long way to eretz Israel. I didn’t know there could be this much snow in the whole world. What’s the plan when we finish this little holiday trek?”
“We’re making for the Altnacealgach Hotel. It’s a hunting lodge, right out in the forest by itself. I imagine you’ll be picked up there, or perhaps I’m supposed to drive you someplace. My car will be there. In any case you will hide out in the forest a bit while I go ahead.”
“I’m looking forward to your hotel. Shall we go on before I seize up and can’t move.”
Jan was tired himself well before dawn — and he did not want to think how Uri felt. Yet they had to keep moving, to get as much distance as they could from the camp. There had been some snow flurries during the night, not very heavy, but still thick enough he hoped to obscure their tracks. If Security would be looking for tracks. There was a good chance they wouldn’t, not yet. But danger would come with sunrise; they had to be concealed before then.
“Time to stop,” Jan called back over his shoulder. “We’re going to ground over here, under the trees.”
“Those are the most beautiful words I have ever heard.”
Jan stamped out depressions in the snow and spread the sleeping bags out in them. “Get into yours,” he ordered. “But take your shoes off first. I’ll take care of them. And I’ll get us some warm food.”
He had to help with the shoes, saw the socks and bandages sodden with blood. “Good thing I can’t feel anything,” Uri said, sliding into the sleeping bag. Jan pushed snow over it until it was completely concealed.
“These bags are made of insulcon, fabric developed for space suits. It has a layer of insulating gas in it, almost as good a nonconductor as a vacuum. You’ll find you’ll have to leave the top loose or you’ll stew in your own juice.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The light was growing now; Jan hurried with the food. The electric element on the high density battery quickly melted a potful of snow, into which he dumped a packet of dehydrated stew. A second potful heated while they wolfed down the first. Then Jan cleaned up, melted water to top up their bottles, then packed everything away again. It was full daylight. Well below the horizon an airplane droned by. The search would be on. He wriggled into his own sleeping bag and pulled snow over it. A long snore issued from Uri’s bag. That sounded like a good idea. He set the alarm on his watch and pulled the flap over his face. At first he was afraid he would stay awake, worrying about the search that was going on, but sleep overwhelmed him and the next he knew the piercing warble of the alarm was screeching in his ear.
During the second night, even though the going was easier, they covered less distance than they had the previous one. Uri was losing blood, too much of it, and even with the pain-killing injections he found it harder and harder to go on. They crossed a frozen loch about an hour before dawn and came to a sheltered cove with an overhanging rock ledge. Jan decided to stop. The place was ideal and it wasn’t worth the few kilometers more to force Uri any further. “I’m not doing too well, am I?” Uri asked, sipping at a steaming mug of tea.