can do this, he told himself. Just a little bit more You’ve got to get off this ice. It isn’t safe here. Start moving.
Coming up onto his right elbow, he reached his arm out and pulled himself forward. But as he did, the ice cracked and gave away beneath him.
Before he knew what had happened, he was fully submerged under the freezing cold water.
Don’t lose the hole! Don’t lose the hole! his mind screamed.
As his arms pulled in wide, powerful strokes, trying to help him resurface, the cord around his waist went taut and pulled him back down.
His gear had fallen in too and was acting not only like a heavy stone but also like a sail that had caught the wind of the current and was now threatening to drag him downriver, beneath the ice.
Cut it loose! his mind yelled. Hurry!
Reaching down, he yanked the short end of the knot, and instantly the water ripped his gear and the lynx away.
He kicked and stroked for the surface, the hole still within his grasp. The snowshoes and his heavy winter boots, though, acted like cement blocks tied to his ankles.
Pull, damn it! Pull! his mind shouted.
Summoning one last burst of strength, he pulled as hard as he could and broke the surface.
Grabbing the edge of the ice, he latched onto it with a death grip. He knew that if he lost hold, he’d slip back down and drown.
Now, all he had to do was get out—something much easier said than done.
His snowshoes, though a latticework of cargo netting, had caught the current’s attention and were threatening to pull him back under. There was no way he could unlace his boots and slip out of them in time.
Adding to his predicament, his clothes were soaked through. He simply didn’t possess enough strength to fight against the current and pull himself out of the hole. Something had to give, and he knew immediately what it was—his parka.
It felt as if it had taken on an additional fifty pounds of water. He needed to get rid of it. It was the only way he was going to survive.
Terrified of what might happen when he let go, he managed to get one arm fully up onto the ice. Wedging himself against the edge as tightly as he could, he released his opposite hand, unzipped the parka, and struggled out of the sleeve.
As soon as he did, the current caught it and began pulling at it, trying to drag him under.
He wanted to take a breather, to muster what little strength he might have left, but the current was relentless. He had to switch arms and let the rest of the coat free—now.
Repeating the process, he pinned himself against the ice and allowed the river to rip the parka the rest of the way from him.
In an instant, it was sucked down into the water and disappeared beneath the ice. He knew that if he didn’t climb out of the hole immediately, it was only a matter of seconds before he followed.
With the current firmly gripping his snowshoes, he clamped both his forearms onto the ice and pulled.
An excruciating pain tore through his back and shoulders—a pain that, once again, he ignored.
He pulled and kept on pulling until he could feel his chest on the ice, then the middle of his abdomen, followed by his waist.
Once his thighs had cleared the opening, he tried to pull himself the rest of the way out, but he couldn’t get enough purchase.
Risking a further fracturing of the surface and the very real possibility he would end up back in the river, he rolled over onto his back and used the momentum to pop his legs out of the water.
The gamble paid off.
His legs, followed by his boots and snowshoes, came shooting up in an icy spray and landed hard on the ice.
He thought for sure the force with which they struck had done him in, but nothing further happened. The ice held.
Without energy enough to roll back onto his stomach, he started inching backward, using the palms of his waterlogged gloves to propel him.
He didn’t stop until he reached the bank.
Once there, it took every ounce of discipline he had not to close his eyes, even for just a moment, and rest. He knew that if he did, he would never wake up. Soaking wet, with no coat in the bitter cold, he would die from exposure right there. He had to get up and get moving.