The Long Dark: A Survivor's Tale

Lost

Either Mother Nature had a change of heart or she was merely beginning to toy with me. I was alive. Somehow I had survived the blizzard, totally exposed and unprotected from the unrelenting cold. I laid there in the snow before slowly sitting up. All around me was snow. An endless and featureless sea of white. My cabin was no where in sight. As I looked around, panic began to rise in my chest. None of my surroundings were familiar. I was in the middle a small clearing, encompassed by tall, snow covered Fir and Pine trees. I had no clue where I was.

Beginning to panic, I struggled to stand. It was now that I realized my survival came with a price. My left pinkie and ring finger were blue. A deep, dark blue. I couldn't feel or move them. They were too Frostbitten to save. I swallowed the knot in my throat as I had a horrifying realization. I would have to amputate them as soon as possible. They were dead. Frostbite was no longer really a problem. Gangrene was.

The necrotic flesh would soon become infected and give rise to an infection that can and would kill me, fairly quickly. I still had my knife. But all of my bandages and first aid equipment were back at the cabin...somewhere around here. I could hear the faint howls of wolves in the distance, echoing through the quiet wood like ghosts. It wasn't snowing and there was very little, if any, wind. My watch read 34°. Incredibly warm compared to the previous -20°. Shivering, I spun around, taking in my surroundings. Lots of trees and snow. My heart was pounding. I cold, injured and lost.

I decided I should probably get moving, lest I became lunch for wolves or a bear. The air was clear, save for the occasional snow flake or two and slight breeze. I held my frostbitten hand close to my body to try and keep the rest of it warm and to keep the frostbite from possibly spreading. The trees towered over me, creaking from the immense weight of the snow resting on their branches. Snow and ice softly crunched beneath my feet and I continued onward, hoping to come across some viable place of shelter. I could still hear the faint, ghostly howls of wolves in the distance. For the first time through my ordeal, I felt truly alone. My legs still burned and ached from the immense effort I had to exert to move during the blizzard and every step was slow and painful. Only adding to my already dire situation, I was hungry. And thirsty. Sure, thirst shouldn't be a problem. I'm surrounded by water after all, aren't I? I very well could scrounge up some snow, melt it, and drink it up. If I wanted to risk getting Dysentery, intestinal parasites or Sepsis. Then I'd have dehydration to battle with. As I continued through the snow, it seemed like maybe Mother Nature was still trying to kill me, just a little slower now.

5:30 p.m, 22°F. My breath came out in visible puffs of steam from the dropping temperature. The sky was painted with brilliant shades of orange, pink and yellow as the sun began to set. I was cold, exhausted, hungry and thirsty, with still no sign of shelter. I continued on, shivering slightly for a few more minutes until my foot struck something. Something metal.