Firewall (52 page)

I nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. It wasn't all his fault.

I'd have tried to drag his granny over that fence if it would have given me half a chance of pocketing 1.7 million.

"I'll tell you the best thing I've found to get over all this cold stuff," I said, trying to sound as relaxed about it as possible.

From under the hood came a muffled, "What's that, then?"

"Dream, mate. Just think to yourself that this will all be over soon.

This time tomorrow you're going to be in a hot bath with a huge mug of coffee and a Big Mac with extra fries. This time tomorrow you'll be laughing about all this shit."

He kicked his heels into the snow. "That's if these poxy trainers stay on."

"Don't moan," I said. "They're better than those fucking stupid daps of yours."

He started to laugh, but it turned into a cough.

I looked up and saw nothing but blankets of white tumbling down at us out of the blackness. If I'd had access to a genie at that moment, the one thing I'd have wished for was a compass.

Jesus, a compass. A compass can be made from any iron metal. It should have been so simple, but it seemed to take me for ever to work it out: Tom had a faceful of the stuff in the rim of his parka hood.

Could I use it? And if so, then what? It was like trying to remember the ingredients of a particularly complicated cake I'd been shown how to bake twenty years ago.

I tried hard to visualize the process, closing my eyes and thinking back to all those times when I'd got so bored making shelters, traps, and snares with bits of string and picture wire.

Tom had other ideas. "Let's go, Nick, I'm cold. Come on, you said..

." He was clinging to me like a baby monkey on its mother's back. It was good, I needed him to warm me just as much as he needed me for reassurance.

"In a minute, mate. In a minute."

Something had to be in the memory banks somewhere. We never forget anything; it can all be brought back to the surface if you press the right button.

It happened. The trigger was remembering being given a silk escape map in the Gulf, with a needle pinned in it.

"Tom, are you still wearing those silk thermals?"

He shook his head. My heart sank.

"Nah, just the top. I wish I did have the bottoms, I'm freezing. Can we go now? You said to tell you, Nick, and I'm telling you."

"Hang on a minute, mate, I've just had a great idea."

I unwrapped my arm from him. As I moved, I was forcibly reminded of the awful discomfort of my wet clothing. My jeans clung to my legs and my T-shirt was cold and clammy.

I removed my glove, holding it in my mouth while I pulled out the Leatherman. Opening the pliers, I put the glove back on before the skin of my hand was exposed for too long.

"Look at me for a sec, would you, mate?"

The parka hood came up and the snow that had collected on it fell onto his shoulders.

Feeling around the frozen ring of fur with my gloved hand, I located the wire, then trapped it in the jaws of the pliers and squeezed until I felt it give. Teasing apart the material at the site of the cut, I exposed the metal, gripped one end of the cut with the pliers and pulled, grasping the exposed wire in my hand. I made another cut and put the two-inch strip inside my glove for safe keeping.

I thought Tom might have been interested, but he was concentrating one hundred percent on feeling cold and miserable.

Bending down some more, I peered into the darkness behind his hood. "I need some of that silk, Tom."

He shrugged. "I don't have to take it off, do I?"

"Just unzip your coat a bit more so I can get a hand in. I'll be as quick as I can."

His hands slowly came out of his pockets and fumbled for the zip. In the end I shoved both of my gloves between my teeth so I could help him; then, having battled with numb fingers to open the blade of the Leatherman, I felt under his shirt.

He sat there like a tailor's dummy as I pulled at his clothing. I didn't have enough feeling in my hands to be gentle about it, and he flinched as my freezing fingers gripped the silk and came into contact with his skin.

My nose was streaming as I grabbed a handful of the undershirt and started cutting, pulling so hard that I nearly lifted Tom off the ground. I wanted to make sure the material ripped, so there were loose threads dangling.

The knife jerked as it made its final cut. Tom yelped as the tip of the blade flicked into his chest. He sat there with an exposed finger over his little cut, the snow settling on his hand.

I said, "For fuck's sake, Tom, keep the heat in."

He pulled his clothing together, shoving his hands back in his pockets, and dropping his head. "Sorry."

"I tell you what," I zipped him up once more, "I'm going to be a couple of minutes doing diis. Why don't you do some exercises to get some heat going?"

"I'm all right. How much longer do you reckon to the train, Nick?"

I dodged the question. "Come on, move about, it'll warm you up."

He started to move as if he was snuggling under a comforter, but the only thing covering him was snow.

"No, Tom, you've got to get up and get your body moving. Come on, we haven't got that far to go, but we won't make it if you start seizing up." I shook him. "Tom, get up."

He hauled himself to his feet reluctantly as I brushed the snow from his shoulders. His fur rim was now a white ring of snow framing his face.

"Come on, with me."

Hands in pockets, we started to play aerobics with his back to the wind, squatting down and standing up again, elbows out, flapping like demented chickens.

I kept my head down, protecting it from the wind as I got him to keep in time with me. "Good stuff, Tom, now keep going, I won't be long." I got back on my knees and into cover.

It was gloves-off time again as I lay them in the snow. I crouched over to protect myself from the snowstorm; my hands were so numb that I had to pull threads from the silk with my teeth. Once I'd teased out a decent bit about five inches long I put it between my lips and fished out the needle-sized length of wire from my glove. Tying the loose end of the silk shakily around the middle of the metal, I finally managed a knot on the fourth attempt.

Richard Simmons next to me grunted and groaned, but was sounding a bit happier. "It's working, Nick. I'm getting warmer, mate!" He beamed, blowing out the snot from his nose.

I muttered encouragement through gritted teeth as I held the thread and wire, shaking the snow off my gloves and quickly putting them back on.

My hands were now so wet they stuck to the inners.

After trying to get some blood circulating by clapping them together for a while, it was gloves-off time yet again. As I bit on the free end of silk thread with my teeth, it seemed to take forever to grasp the dangling wire in one hand and the square of silk in the other. At last I began stroking the wire along the silk, repeating the motion over and over, always in the same direction. After about twenty strokes I stopped, making sure there were no kinks in the thread that would affect the balance of the metal once I let go.

I fished in my pocket for the flashlight, switched it on and put it in my mouth. Still crouching over it to make sure the wind wouldn't affect the thread and needle, I let go and watched it spin. The short length of wire eventually steadied, just moving slightly from side to side. I knew the direction of the North Star from my snow marker, which was now quickly disappearing in the storm, so all I had to do was identify which end of the wire, magnetized by the silk, was pointing north. I could tell the difference between the ends from the way the Leatherman had cut them.

The huffing and puffing went on behind me as I shivered and worked out what I was going to do next. Getting through this weather tonight was going to be a nightmare, but we absolutely had to be at that rail track by morning. In theory, moving cross country in these conditions was a huge blunder, but fuck the rules, it was too cold for them now. I didn't care about leaving sign; I needed roads to make distance, and besides, if Tom, or I, for that matter, started going down with hypothermia, we were more likely to find some form of shelter near a road. My new thought was to go west until we hit one, then hang a right and head north for the train track. One of the few things I knew about this country was that its main highway, and the one and only train track, ran east to west between Tallinn and St. Petersburg. The roads on either side were bound to make their way to it eventually, like streams toward a river.

Nobody was going to see the flashlight in this weather so I turned it on again and looked down as I let the metal drop and had another check to make sure it still worked. As the compass needle oriented itself, I realized that the wind was doing its bit to help. It seemed to be prevailing from the west, so as long as I kept it in my face I would be heading the way I wanted.

I was ready to go, gloves back on, the silk in my pocket, the compass thread and needle wrapped round my finger. I turned to Tom, who was squatting up and down with a vengeance, his arms swinging wildly.

"Okay, mate, we're off."

"Not long now, Nick, eh?"

"No, not long. A couple of hours, tops." ii The gale had become a blizzard, bringing close to white-cut conditions.

I was having to stop every ten or so paces, rubbing the needle again with the silk to reactivate the magnetic effect before getting another navigation fix. In this visibility there was no way I could keep us moving in a straight line. We were vaguely zigzagging west, still hoping to hit a road.

We'd been going for about forty minutes. The wind was still head on and its stinging cold made my eyes stream with tears. I had nothing to protect my face with; all I could do was bury my head into my coat for a few moments' respite. Freezing flakes blasted their way into every gap in my clothes.

I still led the way, breaking the trail, then stopping, though no longer turning, to allow Tom to catch up. When I heard him move up behind me I'd go on a few more steps. This time I did stop, turning my back to the wind, and I could just make him out coming toward me in the storm. I'd been so concerned about navigating that I hadn't noticed how much he was slowing down. I crouched over on my knees to protect the silk and magnetized the wire while I waited.

He finally got level with me as I was trying to stop the wind affecting the compass, which was dangling from my mouth. His hands were buried into his pockets and his head was down. I grabbed hold of his parka and pulled him down next to me, positioning him so he could give the compass some shelter, too.

I wrapped up the compass but this time didn't get to my feet, instead I just stayed where I was and shivered with Tom, both of us bent over in the snow. The snow that had built up on the outside of his hood had frozen, and my hat probably looked the same, matching the front of our coats.

"You okay, mate?"

It was a dumb question, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

He coughed and shivered. "Yeah, but my legs are really cold, Nick. I can't feel my feet. We're gonna be okay, aren't we? I mean, you know all about this outdoors stuff, don't you?"

I nodded. "It's a fucker, Tom, but just dig deep, mate. It's not going to kill us." I was lying. "Remember what I said? Dream, that's all you have to do. Dream, and this time tomorrow-you know the rest, don't you?" His iced-up fur moved in what I took to be agreement as I added, "We'll be on a road soon and the going will get much easier."

"Will we get a car when we get to the road?"

I didn't answer. A nice warm vehicle would be heaven, but who would be mad enough to be out here on a night like this?

I struck out into the snow and he reluctantly followed. we had a result about twenty minutes later. I couldn't see any pavement, but I could make out the shape of tire ruts under the newly fallen snow, and the fact that the snow suddenly wasn't as deep as it had been everywhere else. It was only a single-lane road, but that didn't matter. It could be enough to save our lives.

I started to jump up and down on the spot to make sure I was right. Tom took a long time to catch up, and when he arrived I could see his condition had worsened.

"Time to sort yourself out, Tom. New phase, just jump up and down and get the body going." I tried to turn it into a bit of a game and he half-heartedly joined in.

It wasn't that long ago that he'd been crying. Now it was sarcasm.

"Not long to go now, I s'pose?"

"No, not long at all."

We started to make distance, huddling together at intersections to protect the compass. Whether a road ran northeast, northwest, or even due west, we took it. Anything to get us in the general direction of Tallinn and the train track.

After about three hours Tom had slowed down dramatically. I was having to stop more and more and wait for him to close up on me. The fight through the snow and the extreme cold had definitely got to him and he couldn't stop shivering.

He pleaded with me. "I've had it, Nick. Everything's spinning around me, mate. Please, we have to stop."

The wind whipped the snow against our faces.

"Tom, we must keep going. You understand that, don't you? We're fucked if we don't."

The only reaction from him was a moan. I pulled his hood apart so he could see me.

"Tom, look at me!" I pulled his chin up. "We must go on. You must help me by keeping going, okay?" I moved his chin again, trying to get eye-to-eye. But it was too dark, and every time the wind got into my eyes they started to water.

It was pointless trying to get any sense out of him. We were wasting time and losing what little heat we had by just standing still. There was nothing I could do to help him here and now. Our best bet was to get to the train track and make the final push to a station. I wasn't too sure how many miles we still had to cover, but the most important thing was to get there. I'd know when he'd finally had enough, and that would be the time to stop and take some action.

I grasped his arm and pulled him along. "You've got to dig deep, Tom."

We moved on, me with my head down and Tom past caring. It wasn't a good sign. When the body starts to go into hypothermia, the central thermostat responds by ordering heat to be drawn from the extremities into the core. This is when your hands and feet start to stiffen. As the core temperature drops, the body also draws heat from the head, circulation slows down and you don't get the oxygen or sugar your brain needs. The real danger comes from the fact that you don't realize it's happening; one of the first things hypothermia does is take away your will to help yourself. You stop shivering and you stop worrying. In fact, you are dying, and you couldn't care less. Your pulse will get irregular, drowsiness will give way to semiconsciousness, which will eventually become unconsciousness. Your only hope is to add heat from an external source-a fire, a hot drink, or another body.