Free Expect the Sunrise by Susan May Warren

simply needed to keep one step ahead of panic.
    Thankfully, McRae had calmed down and focused his energies on helping. “I’m sorry I barked at you earlier,” she said to him as she surveyed his work.
    With her instructions, Phillips and McRae had used an edging of metal they’d torn from the broken wing and propped it against the top of the rocky wall. They’d draped one of the two tarps she’d brought over the wing piece for a roof. Wedging it into the rocks, they’d hung the other tarp over the entrance, securing it with the duct tape in her bag. It wouldn’t win any survival-school awards, but for now it would keep the passengers out of the wind and snow.
    “It’s not pretty, but it’ll hold,” McRae said, voicing her opinion.
    She quirked an eyebrow at him, aware that his attitude had changed in the last hour. Hopefully their predicament had subdued him, and he’d start listening to her.
    Now that would be a first. A stubborn Scot bending his will to a wisp of a lady. Wow , she thought she’d forgiven her father, Gerard, for his heritage. Apparently she still harbored latent grudges.
    She knelt before Sarah, who lay zippered inside her sleeping bag. Flint watched over her. “How’s her breathing?” she asked.
    “Okay.”
    Andee felt for a temperature, took Sarah’s pulse, checked her eyes. One pupil seemed slightly larger than the other, but in the dim light she couldn’t be sure. She refused to jump to conclusions. With a head trauma, it wasn’t unusual for a victim to fall unconscious, but with each passing hour Sarah’s injury seemed more profound.
    She checked Sarah’s bandage. The bleeding had stopped, and from a cursory glance the wound seemed superficial. Still, she could have hit hard enough for an intracranial hematoma, and hanging upside down certainly had to have increased the pressure. Which meant Sarah needed medical assistance, maybe even emergency surgery, as soon as possible.
    “Has she made any noises?” Andee asked Flint.
    Flint nodded. “Groans mostly now and again.”
    Andee felt a flare of relief. Groans or any reaction to pain she’d sing hallelujahs over. “Let me know if anything changes. And if it looks like she might vomit, turn her on her side and get me immediately.”
    McRae and Phillips were dragging supplies inside the shelter. Andee ducked her head inside and saw Nina trying to assemble the stove.
    “I thought we might need heat,” she said to Andee. Nina seemed to be trying to conquer her fears, and Andee couldn’t help but admire her. She’d be a good ally once the adrenaline and shock wore off.
    The gray overcast sky along with the gray tarp turned the inside to shadow. The space inside the embrace of rock allowed for the group to sit comfortably. With Sarah lying prone, it would be a tight fit. Body heat could raise the temperature inside a snow cave up to forty-five degrees. Only they weren’t in a snow cave, and Andee feared for the heat loss as the night closed in.
    “We should get inside and stay there.” Andee glanced at Nina, still trying to assemble the stove. “Let’s run the stove only when we’re cooking or melting snow for water. We need to conserve the gas.”
    Nina nodded.
    “Just how long do you think we’ll be here?” Ishbane entered the shelter, shivering under his blanket.
    “Sit down and get warm, Mr. Ishbane,” Andee said. “When we have everyone inside and a fire going, we’ll discuss options.”
    “Our only option is to get out of here fast,” he said.
    Oh, sure. I’ll just call 911. She battled frustration as she crawled out of the shelter. However, one look at Sarah and Andee had to agree with Ishbane. She briefly surveyed the map. According to her calculations, it was a two-day hike to Disaster Creek. Possibly three.
    Sarah could be dead in three days. Andee would give her entire life savings to know if someone had picked up their ELT transmission. Her flight plan didn’t have her checking into Prudhoe Bay until