Page 102 of The Heart of Winter

"I was looking at the soft part," he said. "That… mattress. With a bit of effort, maybe we could yank it out of the chair’s plastic frame?"

"Yes! Then the chairs would stay there, and if anyone was flying overhead, like a helicopter or a drone, they’d spot them."

"In theory. But what good is that if we’re not here and there’s no sign to show where we went?" Sariel bit his lip.

Then he shot me a meaningful look.

"Maybe you’ll have to make a signal, like writing the word ‘HELP’ in the snow. Or just an H."

"That’s actually not a bad idea."

My gaze landed on the meadow. The snow was thin, just two inches of powder, but what if I stomped out long lines, cleared narrow strips of snow, and formed letters with them? I figured the letter ‘H’ would be enough.

"Definitely a good idea. But nibble on something first, or you’ll be too weak in this cold."

He had a point. I grabbed a snack bar, then got to work. I had pretty good leather boots on, but after about fifteen minutes of stomping, I realized this was probably going to be a lot less pleasant than I’d expected. Just to be safe, I made the letter at least 70 yards long and three feet wide. I wasn’t sure how visible it would be from above.

Sariel watched me for a while as I worked, then he started trying to yank the mattress out of the chairs, twisting awkwardly. I knew that every movement caused his leg to jolt with pain.

About forty minutes later, I finally finished the long strips that made the letter ‘H’. He still hadn’t made much progress with the mattress, so I went back to him.

"I checked what’s in that toiletry bag, the one from the other passenger," he said, clearing his throat. "There are a few useful things, including a painkiller blister, and, wait for it… a lighter!"

"Seriously? Good thing he was apparently smoking. When I was heading down to the beach, I saw a few clumps of low shrubs and dry grass, something like ferns, little thickets along the way. If only we could somehow rip those mattresses out?"

"They’re pretty firmly attached. Everything in airplanes is pressed and sewn tightly so that it doesn't loosen from the vibrations," Sariel muttered. "But in that pouch, I also found a nail file and a small pair of tweezers. They might come in handy for prying, there are some kinds of rivets holding it all together."

We both got to work trying to rip the mattresses out of their plastic casing. After about half an hour of picking at it, we managed to get one side out. Then it got a bit easier, though a few parts frayed a little.

When we got to the second mattress, we knew what to do, so it took a little less time, but still, we struggled with it for a while.

"Maybe it’s a good moment for a snack. I’ve got those two sandwiches… They’ll go bad if we don’t eat them, the egg especially."

"A good idea."

Sariel opened his lunchbox, and I hesitated.

"Maybe we shouldn’t overeat, just in case it takes a while for the rescuers to find us."

He stayed silent.

"But… on the other hand, we can’t let ourselves weaken or get too cold either."

We both stared at the open lunchbox. The smell of bread and eggs was mouthwatering.

"Alright!" I finally sighed. "Let’s eat the sandwiches. We’ll save the snacks and cans of peanuts for later. We’ve got six cans, after all."

We both started eating as soon as I sat next to him on the chair. The sun was up, and the fog had fully dissipated. From where we were, we could already see the sea far below, at the bottom of the gentle slope.

But there were no ships on it. I also stared at the sky, but again, I saw no drones or helicopters.

The rescue teams could have left just now, but then the question popped into my head… would they even be looking for survivors? If they knew something happened midair?

Though I didn’t voice these doubts aloud, because that would sound very pessimistic from the start, and we didn’t need any more discouragement right now.

"Why couldn’t we have crashed on a tropical island?" Sariel muttered melancholically, swallowing big pieces of bread.

"I once read a book about a guy who got stranded on a tropical island. He ate mangos and coconuts, bathed every day in warm, turquoise water on white, paradise beaches."

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