The three of us work at it and manage to move it about a foot and a half, and by doing that we can see another part of Theo.
Only it’s not the part I was expecting.
“He must be curled up or twisted or something,” I say.
I touch his newly exposed knee but don’t feel any response. I grab his hand and feel his weak grip in return, so I know he’s still with us.
“Maybe his head is over there.” Shannon points a few feet away and back from his knee. “Maybe his leg was slammed forward. Picture him in a lying position instead of standing straight up.”
“The quicker we expose more of him the better,” I say. My mind scans the rock pile, picturing twenty people buried under here. We haven’t heard one voice. But we didn’t hear Theo’s either, and right now he’s alive, so maybe more people are, too. Maybe everyone is.
We keep moving more rocks, concentrating on his hand because his arm will eventually lead to his shoulder, which has to be close to his head. I don’t know if his body is vertical, horizontal, or something in between.
After we remove a bunch of medium-sized rocks the size of shoeboxes and expose Theo’s arm up to the elbow, Brooke says, “It looks like his arm is going straight down, but with his knee right there, it’s like he’s lying down but holding his arm straight up.”
“Theo,” I yell. “We’re coming. Hang on.”
“We’ve got to make the area wider,” Shannon says. “If he’s hurt, we can’t just yank him out of there.”
“Let’s get to his head”—I point to the spot where I think it should be—“in case he’s having trouble breathing. Then we can make the hole wider to ease him out.”
The next rock we dislodge is red and sticky on the bottom side.
I get this sick feeling in my stomach. Not like I’m going to puke, but more like dread. How are we going to deal with injuries, with bleeding, when we’ve got nothing? I think of the small first aid kit back up in my tent, hours away. We each have one, but none of us brought it down here.
Shannon’s voice snaps me back to the bloody rock cradled in my arms. “We’ve got to be careful,” she says. “The rocks may be keeping him from bleeding because of the pressure they’re exerting.”
“We still have to get him out of there,” I respond.
“I know,” Shannon says. “But we might have to try to stop some bleeding along the way. I think—”
“How?” Brooke breaks in.
“Pressure.” Shannon pauses. “Clothing for bandages.”
I toss the rock aside, rip my pile jacket off, and then pull my T-shirt over my head. “We can start with this.” I set my T-shirt down and put my pile jacket back on.
Shannon kneels next to Theo’s exposed forearm. “I can’t see where the blood came from.”
Brooke and I dislodge a large rock and haul it away while Shannon holds Theo’s forearm.
“I think I see his shoulder,” Shannon says. “His arm got twisted behind him. I see where he’s bleeding. Just above the elbow. Josh, hold his arm just like I am.”
I take Theo’s arm, and Shannon reaches into the small opening Brooke and I created by moving that large rock.
“Brooke,” Shannon says, “hand me the shirt.”
Brooke picks up the shirt. “Couldn’t he get infected? This shirt is all sweaty. Gross.”
“Can’t be too choosy right now,” I say, keeping my grip on Theo’s arm. Brooke doesn’t say anything back. We both keep our eyes on Shannon.
After a minute Shannon says, “I’ve almost got it. I just have to make it a little tighter.”
She does something, and I feel Theo’s grip tighten.
“It’s okay, Theo,” I say. “We’re just patching you up.” I don’t know if he can hear me, but after I say it, his hand relaxes a little bit. I wish he would say something, anything. Even a muffled groan so we’d know where his head is.
Shannon shifts her body and tilts her head toward me. “I should keep putting pressure on this wound while you and Brooke move more rocks.”
“Is it bad?” I ask softly, not wanting Theo to hear.
“It’s not good,” Shannon responds. “But keeping pressure on it will slow down the bleeding.”
I nod, and as I’m gently releasing Theo’s arm, Brooke says, “You guys, there’s something moving along the edge of the rock slide.”
I stand up and see a big grizzly bear walking on all four legs, coming our way.
“I left my bear spray in my tent,” I whisper.
“So did I,” Shannon says.
Brooke takes a step toward me and says softly, “Me too.”
CHAPTER 6
THE MASS OF BROWN FUR is about two hundred yards away from us. I don’t know if it came down the mountainside like I did or if it came up from the lowlands and walked the lakeshore. Either way, here it is—way too close for comfort.
We watch as the bear climbs up on the landslide. It keeps stopping and sticking its face into the rocks. Then it starts pawing at the rocks, like it’s trying to dig.
I glance down at Theo’s arm and knee. He’d be an attractive meal for a grizzly.
We talk quietly about what to do.
Brooke wants to yell and scream at the bear to try to scare it away before it comes any closer. “We should let it know we’re here.”
Shannon thinks that since the bear is still pretty far away we should just keep working on getting Theo out.
And I think we should do a little bit of both.
I say, “What if the bear is digging toward a person who is alive, like Theo? We can’t let that happen. I—”
Brooke cuts me off. “Didn’t you see all that blood on Theo? And now, with that bear so close, we’re risking our lives for a lost cause. You really think he has a chance?” She shakes her head.
“Yeah, I do. He’s alive,” I say softly, staring her down, when really I want to shout into her face. “What if it were you?”
“Look,” Shannon says, pointing toward the bear.
More rocks clatter as the bear digs. Now it has its whole head in the landslide, and all we can see are its massive shoulders and body straining as it pulls and tugs.
Some orange starts to show, and then the bear stumbles backward with a big orange dry bag in its jaws. At the bottom of the rock slide the bear drops the bag and starts pawing at it.
“The bear found our kitchen,” I say, “or, at least part of it.”
We had an electric fence around the kitchen area, powered by a couple of batteries hooked up to some small solar panels, but that system must be smashed up.
In no time the bear has shredded one side of the dry bag and is now pulling out smaller bags with its jaws.
Shannon says, “Let’s keep working on Theo while the bear is busy.”
I try to forget about the bear and what Brooke said about Theo and just focus on digging him out.
We all keep moving rocks, and we uncover Theo’s other elbow and then the rest of his arm. And under his bent arm, we get the first glimpse of the top of his head.
“Careful,” I say as we move small rocks and uncover the rest of Theo’s head. I put the back of my hand in front of his mouth and nose and feel a tiny stream of air run across my skin. “He’s breathing.”