
Ice
Four days passed and the storm hadn't moved.
Ice crashed against the house constantly, the sound banging through my eardrums painfully. After the first twelve hours, a vicious headache beat between my eyes. But there wasn't much I could do. The storm pelted the ground with shards of ice. Most shattered against the roof of the house.
By the fourth morning, Chance and I were out of firewood. I surveyed the outside. My eyes searched through the dark for any edge of the storm. Even now, after several days, there wasn't one in sight. The storm was endless.
As dangerous as it was, Chance and I couldn't afford to sit around any longer. Time was ticking. The longer we waited, the more our chances of making it to the Equator slimmed. But I feared the ice would pierce right through Chance's protective gear.
Thus, I spent the fifth and final day in the house working. Using some of the plywood and the tarp in my bag, I began to fashion a protective shield for Chance. It took wire, string, and my sore fingers to finish the contraption. The wires held the slanted wood above his body. He would have to fight against the wind, but no ice shards would hit him.
As I prepared to leave, I retrieved the rope used to lower the attic door and sat by Chance. He held still while I fastened the shield. It sat above him, making it look as through the piece of wood had legs. I looped the rope around his chest gently before tying the other end to my hip. He might not appreciate that I'd limited his freedom, but while he adjusted to the weight and wind, he wouldn't blow away.
I tested the rope. Hopefully, the cold wouldn't freeze and shatter it. A chain would surely shatter. But rope? It had more give. It should have a harder time freezing and breaking.
Chance gnawed at the shield on his back, concerned, but I nudged his side. "No, Chance. Leave it alone." If dogs could give dirty looks, his would've earned the award for the dirtiest. It appears Chance has reached the grumpy-teenager phase of growing up, I thought wryly.
The storm blocked what was left of the sunlight outside. At this point, three months into the broken orbit, it was as dark as if the sun had just set. The average temperature outside had to be way below zero degrees. If I had to guess, I'd probably would've said around negative thirty degrees during the warmest part of the day. The days themselves only lasted about six hours. Pitch-black darkness took over the rest of the time.
If I could keep a good pace, Chance and I were probably only about three weeks away from the Equator. The storm had dropped the average temperature and shortened daylight hours, so I had no idea how long this was going to take.
I finished securing my clothing before moving to the door. The leash remained slack as Chance followed after me. My hands finished the scarf around my face before I gripped the last board over the door. "Ready?"
With a pull, I freed the last nail and pulled off the plywood. Almost immediately, the wind blew the door open. After getting caught with that trick at Ram and Maria's, I knew better. I jumped backwards as the sheet of ice cascaded into the house. I gripped the rope and pulled Chance out of the way. His paws skidded across the floor as the ice hit the ground. It was about a foot thick.
Chance scrambled back upright, his eyes wide. I stepped onto the ice block to get out of the house. He followed as my foot stepped onto the snow and didn't sink. Instead, it skidded forward. I gritted my teeth and managed to catch the doorframe before I fell onto my ass. The storm had created a layer of ice over the snow. Looking around and thinking fast, I saw the barbed wire fence, and got an idea.
20,692 total words
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