Isolated

By Ed Carlson

 

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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character

identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.

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I had spent the better part of month hiking to get to the cabin. This place was so isolated that the wolves didn’t know it was there. The hike had been up a frozen river—a river of ice. The supplies I had with me I had pulled on the sled every day for almost a month. A supply plane will parachute me in more in about two months.


The cabin was a cozy place made of logs. A couple of small windows let in the bright sunlight of the very short winter day. A fireplace on one wall did a good job keeping the log cabin toasty warm when it dropped to forty below outside. The large bunk in the corner was comfortable enough. The cook stove provided ample heat to fix my meals. The hand pump at the kitchen sink provided water without having to leave the cabin. It pumped water out of a well directly under the sink, and the foot valve had a slow leak so there was never a problem with freezing. The chair would be comfortable enough to pull up to the fire. The kitchen table and two chairs would be just right for my meals.


I was facing the isolation with mixed emotions. I enjoyed the solitude. I suppose that’s the reason that I would spend the winter, until breakup and spring floods are over, in this very isolated spot. In the late spring or early summer, I would build a raft and float back down the river to what they call civilization—the way I had done it in previous years. My other emotion is that I longed for someone to talk to. A gorgeous female would be nice. I can dream, can’t I? But what kind of a gorgeous female would subject herself to the rigors of this isolation and loneliness? She would have to be out of her mind.


I spent my first day settling in. I put my supplies away. The frozen meat that I brought was stored out in the cache. The canned goods were put neatly on the shelves in the cabin. The dishes had been put away in the cupboard and were just the way I had left them. I checked out the mine. At least when you got underground away, it was above freezing, even though it was pitch black when you turned off the light. It was a blackness you could almost cut with a knife.


The fire felt good, and I started on one of the paperbacks that I had lugged with me. I fixed my dinner and read for a while longer. I gave thanks to the Lord for the safe journey. It was cozy and warm, and I stoked up the fire before I turned in for the night.


The next morning was beautiful. The mountains shown in all their glory as the morning sun made the snow pink. It was one of those sights that you need to etch thoroughly in your mind so that you may visit it when you are far away and the pressure of society is weighing you down. I stood on the cabin porch taking it all in. I noticed clouds building on the backside of the mountains. Soon the mountains would be enveloped and the magnificent view reduced to a fog bank that hangs just at the tree tops. I enjoyed the splendor while I could. At least when the ceiling dropped, I’d be in the mine, and it wouldn’t matter anyway.


I went in and fixed breakfast. The bacon and eggs tasted good. Eggs are something I wouldn’t have much longer. I don’t have refrigeration as such—only frozen out up in the cache, or room temperature in the cabin, with no in-between. I finished up my breakfast and washed up the dishes. I had stalled long enough, and it was time to get to work in the mine.


When I went out on the cabin porch, I noticed how quickly the storm had blown in. The ceiling was about two hundred feet above the trees—a good day to be underground. I picked up my pick and shovel and had just started for the mine entrance when the silence was shattered by the sound of an airplane engine. My first thought was ‘Is that fool high enough to make it over the mountains?’ The more that I listened to the plane, the more I knew he was too low, way too low. I decided not to go into the mine quite yet.


As I stood there, I heard the plane’s engine start to sputter. It would catch for a moment, but would soon be sputtering again. I walked back to the cabin porch in hopes of getting a glimpse of the plane. I had just set my pick and shovel down when I saw the plane break out of the low clouds. It was a narrow two passenger plane—the kind that has the pilot in the front and passenger behind. I could see two people in the plane. He was trying for the frozen river but clipped the top of a tree instead. There was a loud tearing noise and then a deafening crash as the plane went down. The plane crashed within a hundred yards from where I was standing.


I picked up an ax and started running toward the plane wreckage. It was a horrifying sight. It seemed like there were twisted pieces of broken airplane everywhere. I had a quick flashback to my days as a volunteer fireman and some of the car wrecks we were called to. There was a strong smell of gasoline. I determined that it was coming from the detached wings that were now lying in two different places about fifty feet away from what had been the plane’s fuselage.


I found the pilot and quickly determined that there was nothing that a mortal such as me could do for him. He was with his maker.


His passenger was unconscious but breathing and was slumped over toward the dead pilot’s seat. I straightened the passenger up to try and maintain a good airway. The passenger was a woman. She had facial lacerations and had suffered deep and severe cuts to both arms above and below the elbows, which had been caused by the sharp pieces from the broken side windows. The wounds to both of her arms were bleeding profusely right through her nice down coat. I knew that I had to act quickly or the passenger would have the same fate of the pilot.


I used the ax to chop away the top of the plane and was able to peel back the metal like opening a can of beans. I knocked out the rest of the windows on both sides. I was able to reach her seatbelt and release it. I reached under the passenger’s armpits and was able to pull her free of the wreckage, trying to keep her body in a straight alignment as I laid her on the snow.


I found a first aid kit in the plane. It was one of the large ones and had a lot of bandages and supplies. I unzipped her coat and managed to get her bleeding arms out of the tattered sleeves. I put pressure bandages on each arm and was able to slow, but not stop the bleeding. I did a quick body exam looking for broken bones and other cuts. Luckily, she had no broken bones and the cuts were the ones I had already found on her arms and face.


She started to regain consciousness and wanted to sit up. I insisted that she lie still.


“What happened?”


“You were in a plane crash. You’re going to be all right,” I said.


“My head hurts, and my arms do too. My God, I can’t feel my hands!”


“You had a nasty bump on the head, and you’ve been unconscious for a few minutes. Your arms have some very deep cuts. I bandaged both of them.”


“Is Bill OK?” she asked.


“He died instantly on impact.”


She began to cry, and I did my best to comfort her. This was the part of first aid that I hated the most. I can handle the blood and getting in and doing the rescue, but comforting patients was not my bag.


“We were just going out for a Sunday morning flight when we suddenly lost visibility,” she sobbed. “Now Bill’s dead. Where are we?”


“We’re up Big River about two hundred miles. It took me a month to hike in.”


“Oh my God,” she replied. “Then we had been going the wrong way. I told Bill that he needed to get the compass fixed.”


“Do you think you can walk if I help you? My cabin is about a hundred yards from here.”


“I’ll try,” she replied.


She tried to stand. She became dizzy and passed out again. I picked her up and carried her to the cabin. She was light as a feather. I put a blanket on the kitchen table and laid her there. She started to come around again.


“Where am I?”


“You’re on the kitchen table in my cabin,” I said. “Lie still right there, and I’ll go back and get the medical kit.”


“OK. But don’t leave me alone too long,” she said. “I can’t feel my hands. I’m scared.”


“It’ll be all right,” I comforted.


I ran back and got the big first aid kit. I also found her very large purse. I was out of breath when I got back.


“I’m back,” I said breathlessly. “Let me take a look at your arms.”


“They don’t hurt too bad, but my hands don’t have any feeling.”


“You’re still losing blood,” I said. “I’m going to rewrap both of your arms. What’s your name?”


“Kelly,” she replied. “What’s yours?”


“Dave is what my friends call me,” I replied.


I removed the dressing from her right arm. The profuse bleeding started again. I cleaned out the wounds with some alcohol pads. I put several compress dressings on the wounds and wrapped them very tightly with some cling bandages. The bleeding seemed to slow a great deal on the upper wound and stop on the lower ones. I did the same with the left arm, with the same results. I cleaned her facial cuts and put some butterfly closures on them.


“That’s the best I can do for now,” I said.


“Dave, how can we get me to a hospital?” she asked.


“We can’t,” I replied. “It would take a month to hike back out of here. You couldn’t make the trip. The radio is broken in the plane, and I don’t have any way of communicating with the outside world now. I only have a small portable radio to talk to the supply plane that will be here in two months. My radio only has a five-mile range.”


“So we’re stuck here?” she said.


“Until after spring flood and I can build a raft,” I replied. “The only other hope is that search planes will start looking when you are overdue from your flight plan. I could talk to one of them on the portable radio if they came this way.”


“Bill didn’t file a flight plan. He asked me just to go out for a Sunday morning sightseeing flight.”


“Then you weren’t related?” I asked.


“No, Bill was just a casual acquaintance. I’d been out with him a couple of times, but no romantic sparks.”


“Kelly, do you know if the plane had an emergency locator beacon?” I asked.


“I am pretty sure he didn’t because he was talking about getting one and also having the compass fixed. It wasn’t working at all,” Kelly replied.


“It looks like you’re here for the duration then,” I said. “Frankly, I’m worried about your arms. You’ve got some pretty heavy cuts, and I’m having a hard time stopping the bleeding”


“I’m worried too,” she replied. “I can’t feel my hands or anything below those bandages.”


“Make a fist with your right hand,” I said.


“I’m trying,” she said. “Nothing is happening.”


“Try the left,” I said.


“Same thing,” she replied. “I’m trying, but my left hand isn’t moving either. Dave, what’s happened to me?”


“I had to put real tight bandages on your upper arms to control the bleeding,” I said. “Maybe the bandages are cutting off the nerves. Just lie still so that we can get that bleeding stopped.”


“Where did you learn first aid?” she said. “You seem pretty knowledgeable.”


“I used to be a volunteer fireman. We had to go through advanced first aid. Some of the guys went on to become EMTs, but first aid was not my bag. I wanted to squirt the water instead.”


“Thank you for pulling me out of that plane wreck. I probably would have bled to death if you hadn’t been here.”


“You’re stable for now but not out of the woods, so to speak,” I said. “I really am concerned about your lack of feeling in your hands and the bleeding in your upper arms. If you develop circulation problems, then we really do have a problem.”


“What happens if I have circulation problems?” she asked.


“Gangrene,” I replied. “The tissue dies.”


“Oh God, please don’t let that happen,” she said as she began to cry. “Dave please, you have to help me.”


“Try and relax,” I said. “It will help to stop the bleeding.”


“I’ll try.”


“I’ll be right over here,” I said. “I want to see what all is in this medical kit.”


I took the first aid kit over to the kitchen counter. I went through it thoroughly. It was quite complete, including suturing supplies. I read through the advanced first aid book. It too was quite complete, with sections on treatments when hospital care was out of reach, including a section on doing amputations—something we both knew she was facing if gangrene set in.


I went back over to her. She had drifted off to sleep. I checked on the bandages. There was still a little seepage, but the bleeding seemed to be under control. If only we could maintain circulation, she’d have a chance. I loosened the bandages a little. The bleeding seemed to stay under control.


I put another log on the fire, then went back out to the plane wreck. I was looking for anything that might be useful. The plane was pretty much bare. I had taken an old blanket with me. I pulled the dead pilot out of the wreckage. I wrapped him in the blanket and carried him over my shoulder to the cache. I managed to climb the ladder and get him inside. He would soon freeze solid, and the animals wouldn’t get him there.


I went back into the cabin. Kelly was just waking. She tried to sit up. I helped her. Both of her forearms dangled lifelessly at her side.


“I still don’t have any feeling in my hands,” she said.


“I loosened the bandages a little. I thought that might help.”


“I think maybe that the nerves are severed,” she said bravely.


“That’s a possibility as deep as those cuts are,” I said. “Both cuts are down to the bone.”


“That’s serious, isn’t it?” she asked.


“I’m afraid so Kelly,” I replied. “Would you like to sit in the chair by the fire?”


“I think I’d like to try,” she said.


I helped her to her feet. She was unsteady, and I held her firmly. She took a few tentative steps and made it to the chair. I helped her sit down. I put her lifeless arms on the arms of the chair. Her forearms offered no resistance as I moved them.


“How’s that?” I asked.


“I would like it better if I could feel my hands and lower arms,” she said. “Dave, I’m really scared.”


“Just try and relax,” I said. “I’ll do everything I can for you.”


“Thanks. You really are kind.”


I went over and opened a can of soup and heated it up on the wood cook stove. I put part of it in a bowl and took it over to her.


“That smells good Dave,” she said. “I’m afraid that you’re going to have to feed me though. I still can’t move my arms.”


“I had planned on it,” I replied.


When I was sure the soup was cool enough, I fed her the bowlful.


“Aren’t you going to have any?” Kelly asked.


“I’ll have the other half of the can,” I replied. I went over to the wood cook stove and dished myself up the rest. I quickly devoured it.


“Dave, is Bill’s body still in the plane?” she asked.


“While you were asleep, I got him out of the wreckage and put his body up in the cache,” I said. “The body will freeze solid, and the animals won’t get it there. We can bury him in the spring.”


“Poor Bill,” she said. “He was a nice man. He just wanted to take me for a ride in his new plane.”


There was no conversation for a while.


“Dave, what do you do out here all winter?” Kelly asked.


“I have a gold mine right out back. I work it and do some trapping too,” I replied. “I planned on building a raft and taking some gold and furs out with me after the spring flood.”


“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked.


“I guess you’ll have to stay here,” I replied. “I’ll take care of you, and you can go out with me in the spring. If we’re lucky, we can have the supply plane pilot send back a helicopter for you, but he won’t be here for another two months.”


“What about my arms?” she asked. “I can’t use them.”


“We’ll let them heal up, and then cross that bridge,” I said.


“What if I get gangrene?” she asked with concern.


“We’ll deal with that if we have to,” I said.


“You’ll have to amputate them, won’t you?” she said.


“Worst case scenario, yes,” I replied. “I’ll do all that I can to keep that from happening.”


“God, I hope you can save them,” she said as she started to cry. “I don’t know what I would do without arms.”


I put my arm around her shoulder to comfort her. She laid her head on my chest as she wept softly.


“Do you believe in God?” I asked.


“Yes, I used to go to Sunday school,” Kelly replied. “I haven’t prayed in a long time though.”


I knelt beside her and offered a prayer for her healing and for the soul of Bill. She joined in the prayer, asking God for guidance and wisdom for me. We both had tears in our eyes when we had finished.


“Why don’t you sit here, and I’ll bring in the wood for the evening,” I said.


“I’m not going to argue, even though I’d much rather have the use of my arms and be able to help,” she said.


“Just sit here, and try to regain as much strength as you can,” I said.


“I will,” she said. “I have a gut feeling that before this is all over with, that I’m going to need all the strength and courage that I can muster.”


I went out to the woodpile and split enough wood to fill the wood box. It took me four trips with full armloads to adequately fill the wood box. I put another log on the fire. The weather had gotten a lot worse in the time that I was in the cabin with Kelly. I said another prayer for her when I was outside. I had a good idea what I was going to have to do to that poor woman. She probably knew it too. It was something that neither of us wanted me to have to do. If only a search helicopter would swoop down the valley, she could get some decent help—the kind of help that she deserved to have—rather than the barbaric butchery help that I had to offer.


I worked around the inside and outside of the cabin for the rest of the day. Kelly sat by the fire most of the time. I did help her up to go out to the outhouse. She was embarrassed when she asked me to pull down her pants and panties so she could go, but even more embarrassed when I needed to wipe her when she was finished. She was almost in tears when we came out and went back to the cabin.


“This is what I have to look forward to if my arms don’t heal,” she sobbed softly. “It will even be worse if you need to amputate my arms.”


“Think positively,” I said. “You are going to get better.”


I climbed up to the cache and got some meat for dinner. Bill’s body was frozen now and was right where I had left it. I thawed the meat out and began to cook dinner.


“Is hamburger all right?” I asked.


“That will be great,” she replied. “Almost anything sounds good now.”


I fixed our dinner. I fed Kelly before I ate mine. She objected and said that I should eat first.


After dinner, we sat in front of the fire and talked. She was a beautiful person both outside and inside. I changed the dressing on her upper arms. The bleeding had stopped.


“What are we going to do for sleeping arrangements?” she asked.


“I thought that you could sleep in the bed and I would sleep in the chair.”


“I would like you to share the bed with me,” she said. “Not that I have a sexual encounter in mind. Far from it. I just would feel more secure if you were sleeping beside me.”


“If you insist,” I said. “But that’s only if you promise not to attack me.”


“I’m in no shape to do any attacking. These arms just feel like I’m packing around dead weight.”


I helped her get into bed. I stoked up the fire with a couple more logs, then crawled in beside her. I moved close but was careful not to touch her suggestively.


“How’s that?” I asked.


“You can put your arm around me if you want to,” she replied.


I did as she suggested, but sleep came slowly. We both had her arms on our minds. I prayed that I wouldn’t be forced to do the amputations. Once we were asleep, we both slept soundly. I woke up in the middle of the night and put more logs on the fire. I looked at the lovely beauty lying there helplessly. I wished that I could do more to help her. I crawled back into bed next to her and drifted back to sleep.


I awoke early. Kelly was still sleeping soundly. I slid quietly out of bed and started out to the outhouse after I had put a log on the fire. When I opened the door to the cabin, I was met by a snarling wolf. I quickly shut and bolted the door. I grabbed my rifle and jacked a round into the chamber. I opened the door again. The large wolf and several others were still there, snarling. I raised my rifle and squeezed off a round. Kelly screamed at the sound of the loud report. The big wolf dropped, and the others quickly scattered. I closed the door and went over to Kelly.


“What were you shooting at?” she asked.


“I just shot a large wolf,” I replied. “He and the rest of the pack were right outside the door.”


“Are you OK?” she asked thoughtfully.


“I’m doing a lot better than the wolf,” I replied. “Do you have a recipe for wolf stew?”


“I’m sorry. I left my recipe books at home,” she said. “We should be able to boil him somehow in a stew.”


“How are your arms doing?” I asked.


“I still can’t feel anything,” she said. “I think they look a little darker than yesterday though.”


“We’ll have to see under a little better light,” I replied. “I was just headed for the outhouse.”


“Can I go with you?” she asked. “I’m about to burst.”


I helped her get out of bed. She was a lot more steady on her feet than the day before. I helped her slip her shoes on. I opened the door. The wolf was still lying in the same position. The others were gone. We both went into the outhouse. She went first, and I went second. When we emerged from the outhouse, I picked up her hand and looked closely at it. It was much darker than yesterday, and she still didn’t have any feeling. I looked at her other arm. It was much darker as well.


“What’s the verdict?” she asked. “They’re a lot darker, aren’t they? I’ve developed circulation problems, haven’t I?”


“I’m afraid so,” I replied remorsefully.


“I need to be preparing myself mentally for my ordeal, don’t I?” she said.


“How you deal with what I’m afraid I’m going to have to do is critically important. You won’t survive with a poor state of mind.”


“Dave, help me to be strong,” she said tearfully.


“We need to do some serious praying today. Unfortunately, I think that we are going to have to amputate tomorrow,” I said.


“That soon?” she sniffed as we walked back into the cabin.


“If we wait too long, we may lose you all together,” I said. “Poisons will seep through your body, and I don’t have any antibiotics to fight them.”


“What would happen if we do it sooner, like right now?” she asked. “Would I have a better chance of surviving?”


“Yes, you would,” I replied. “I believe that you’ve adequately regained your strength. One little problem though.”


“What’s that?”


“I’m no surgeon. I only have a basic knowledge of first aid, not surgery,” I replied.


“Why don’t you practice on that dead wolf?” she suggested. “You should be able to get a feel for what you’ll be up against when you have to work on me.”


“I suppose that would work,” I replied.


She sat in the big chair by the fire. I got out the big, advanced first aid book and reread the chapter on doing amputations. When I was finished, I gathered all of the supplies that I would need. I would use plain black thread on the dead wolf and save the suturing material for Kelly’s amputation. I retrieved the wolf and put it on the kitchen table. Kelly came over to watch.


I took the large scissors and cut away the hair on part of the dead wolf’s leg. Next, I cut a large flap of skin using my hunting knife. I carefully cut into the wolf’s leg and separated what would be the tricep and bicep muscle groups. I got out the bone saw that I used for butchering and sawed the bone off. Next, I took a coarse file and filed down the end of the bone to make it rounded. I used my knife to cut the bicep muscle. An artery was present so I tied it off with a length of thread and trimmed the edges with her manicure scissors. Next, I cut the tricep muscle and tied the artery I found there. I used the needle and thread to suture the bicep to the tricep over the end of the rounded bone. I brought the flap of skin over the muscles I had sutured together. I used the needle and thread to suture the skin flap in place.


“Well, what do you think?” I asked.


“You look like you know what you’re doing,” she said. “Why did you sew the two muscles together over the end of the bone?”


“If I don’t, those muscles won’t have anything to pull against and they will shrink away quickly. This way, they have each other to pull against. Besides, the muscle will provide a padding for the end of the bone,” I said. “You are probably going to want to get prosthetic arms. This way, you will still have active muscle to use a manual prosthesis or activate a myoelectric arm.”


“I’ve sometimes thought about artificial arms,” Kelly said. “I’d think I’d look cool with hooks.”


“You’ll have all winter to think about that,” I said.


“What do you have for anesthesia?” she asked.


“I’ve been thinking about that too,” I said. “The only thing I could think of is the two bottles of strong whiskey that I brought along to celebrate if I really hit pay dirt in the mine.”


“You mean, have me get drunk enough to pass out?” she asked.


“That’s all that I can think of unless you want to bite on a stick or have me punch you in the jaw,” I replied.


“I think I’ll get drunk,” she said. “Are you ready to get this show on the road?”


“Are you sure you want me to do this?” I asked. “This is irreversible, and we can’t go back.”


“I don’t see that I have much of a choice,” she said as tears started to form in her eyes. “If you don’t cut my arms off, gangrene will set in, and that will kill me for sure.”


“There is no guarantee that gangrene still won’t set in,” I said.


“I know. I’m willing to take the chance,” she sobbed. “Dave, I want you to cut my arms off. Please do it now while I have my courage up. Please.”


I hauled the dead wolf with the freshly amputated leg outside and hung him in the butcher shed. I slit his throat and bled him out. I securely locked the heavy door. I went back into the house and thoroughly scrubbed the kitchen table.


I got out one of the bottles of whiskey. I poured a water glass full. I held it up to her lips, and she took a drink. By her reaction, I could tell it was burning on the way down. I gave her another drink. She got it down without too much trouble. I stoked up the fire in the wood stove and pumped a large pan full of water. I set it on the stove to boil. I gave her another drink. She was getting pretty tipsy.


“Am I drunk yet?” she slurred.


“Not yet,” I said. “You’re still awake. Here, have another drink.”


“Dave, I want you to do me a little favor,” she said.


“What’s that?”


“I want you to make both arms the same length please,” she said. “I don’t want to be lopsided.”


“I’ll do my best,” I replied.


I gave her a couple more drinks from the glass. I put all the utensils that I was going to need in the boiling water. I put a sheet on the table and helped her get up on it. I gave her another drink while she was sitting there with her feet dangling over the edge of the table. I removed her badly bloodstained blouse. I left her bra on, which nicely held her firm looking breasts.


“Do you want to play with those?” she slurred. “You can if you want to you know. I think I want you to play with my boobs.”


“Thanks, but I need to concentrate on what I have to do,” I replied.


“Well, you can play with them later then. You’re not going to cut my boobs off too, are you?” she slurred badly as her eyes fluttered opened and closed.


“No, your boobs are fine,” I comforted. “Here, have another drink.”


She finished off the water glass of whiskey, and I poured more in the glass. I gave her another drink. She slumped forward, and I caught her. When I held her up, her eyes fluttered open. I managed to get her to drink one more time. She passed out, and I laid her out on the table. She was out like a light.


I washed my hands thoroughly. I used the tongs to pick the tools that I had to use out of the boiling water and put them on a clean towel. They consisted of two small hemostat clamps, my hunting knife, her manicure scissors, the bone saw, the coarse file, and the needle. I opened one of the alcohol cleaning pads, and I cleaned the area around where I was going to make the incision on her right arm. I poured some of the whiskey over my hands.


I used a strip of cloth to make a tight constrictive band, which I tied as tightly as I could just above where my final cuts would be. I picked up the hunting knife and made a large skin-flap cut from the inside of her arm. I was able to make it about a quarter inch thick. I was able to separate the bicep muscles from the triceps and begin to detach these muscles, which once made her elbow work, from her forearm. I found the brachial artery and tied it off with suture thread. I moved her tissues aside and used the bone saw to cut through the bone. I made a rough cut of the rest of her uncut soft tissue with my hunting knife about two inches below the end of the bone all the way around her arm. As I finished the cut, her arm was free from the elbow on down. I almost dropped it but caught it in time. I put her arm in the sink. I separated the bicep and tricep muscles even more. I spread out an alcohol wipe to try and catch the little bone chips that the coarse file would make while I rounded off the end of the bone. When I had finished, I used another wipe to clean off any contamination on the end of the bone that the file may have left. I began to trim her bicep carefully—leaving it somewhat longer than the bone. I spotted an artery before I cut it and tied it off with suture material. I found several more as I trimmed. I would put a hemostat clamp on them, then tie them off just above the clamp. My procedure must have worked because they didn’t bleed when I removed the clamp. Next was the tricep muscle. I pulled it over the end of the bone and brought both muscles together to check the length before I began trimming. I stretched and cut the nerves that I found as I trimmed so they wouldn’t hurt when she put pressure on her stumps after they healed. As I trimmed, I found several more small arteries and was able to tie them off. I brought the two muscles into alignment on the top of her arm as she lay there. I poured a little whiskey over them for antiseptic. I used the dissolving suture material to firmly tie the two muscles together. I brought the skin flap over the end of her arm. I trimmed away skin material so the flap would fit. I used regular thread to suture the skin into place. With the stitches exposed, I could remove them in a couple of days when she began to heal. I released the constricting band. I finished by putting a dressing over the end of her now shortened arm and wrapped it as tightly as I could with a cling bandage. One side was done.


I checked her carefully. Her breathing was fine, and she was still passed out cold. I resterilized my tools and readied myself for Kelly’s other arm. I took some careful measurements to be sure that I would carry out her wish to have both arms the same length.


I started on her other arm. I used the same procedure. I remeasured before I cut off the bone. The second arm amputation procedure went like the first. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finished. It had taken me a little over two hours to alter her permanently and irreversibly.


I checked her carotid pulse. It was strong and about the right speed for someone at rest. She was still passed out. She looked so frail there with arms that now terminated four inches above where her elbow used to be. I covered her with a warm blanket. I wrapped her arms in the sink and took them out to the cache. When I came back, she was stirring. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around the room trying to figure out where she was. She saw me.


“Hi there,” she said with a weak smile. “Did you do it?”


“Yes,” I replied. “You are now a double amputee.”


“Thank you,” she said as she started to cry softly.


“How do you feel?” I asked.


“My arms hurt quite a bit, but my head feels like I was run over by a big truck,” she said.


“I want you to take another drink and sleep some more,” I said.


“I don’t want any more whiskey,” she said. “I think it would make me sick. How about if I just lie still right here?”


“OK,” I said. “Try not to move—especially your arms.”


“I promise,” she said. “What did you do with my hands?”


“I put them up in the cache. We can bury them in the spring when the ground thaws.”


“I’m afraid you’ll have to do it. I’m not going to be much help,” she said, trying to smile.


“You try and sleep some more,” I said. 


She closed her eyes and went to sleep. I sat in the big chair by the fire and contemplated the horrible thing that I had been required to do. I said a prayer for her recovery, then I nodded off for a while.


When I awoke, Kelly was still asleep. I realized that I had not eaten all day. I fixed myself some lunch. I had my back to the table when Kelly asked, “When do we eat?”


“I’m fixing myself a sandwich. Are you up for one, or would you like some soup?” I replied.


“A sandwich would be great,” she said.


I made the sandwiches. I folded several blankets to form a wedge so that she could sit up a bit and still support her arms.


“I’m dying to see what you’ve done to me,” she said.


I folded the blanket down to her waist.


“That’s about what I expected,” she said bravely.


“I’m sorry that I had to do such a horrible thing like that to you,” I said as I started to tear up.


“Dave, it’s all right. You did it to save my life,” she said firmly. “If you remember, I begged you to do it.”


“Yes. I know. But this is so permanent,” I said.


“So is death,” she said. “Not having any hands is not the way I wanted to finish my life, but I don’t want to finish it for good two weeks from now with gangrene completely invading my body. Dave, I owe you my life. Thank you for doing what you had to do.”


I put the blanket back over her and fed her the sandwich. When she finished, I gave her a glass of water. I took the blankets out from under her shoulders, and she lay flat on the table. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. I cleaned up the instruments and washed the bloody towels that I had used. She slept most of the day.


When she awoke in the evening, it was dark outside. I helped her sit up on the edge of the table. She said she was a little dizzy when she first sat up. I put one of my flannel shirts on her and buttoned it up. I left the sleeves to dangle at the ends of her shortened arms. I helped her to the big chair and put more logs on the fire. I sat on the bed facing her.


“How are your arms feeling?” I asked.


“They hurt like hell,” Kelly replied. “How long will I have to put up with the pain?”


“I’m not sure,” I replied. “I think it will get less and less every day. Do you have any sensations like your hands are still there?”


“No, it just hurts really bad near the ends,” she said.


“That’s where I did the skin flap and tied the muscles together. It’s going to be tender there for a long time,” I explained. “I closed the flap on the outside of your arm so that you can pick things up with ends of your arms and not be pressing on the scar.”


“You’ve thought of everything,” she said.


“No, that was a hint in the book in the medical kit,” I replied. She looked tired and still very pale. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” I asked.


“I’m really thirsty,” she said. “I would love a large glass of water.”


I got up and pumped her some cold, fresh water. I held the glass while she drank.


“How about some dinner?” I asked.


“I really don’t have much of an appetite,” she said. “I would like a bowl of soup.”


I got up and opened a can of soup and began heating it on the stove. I poured some in a bowl and sat down on a kitchen chair beside the big chair she was sitting in. It was still hot, so I waited for it to cool. I fed her the first spoonful and waited for a reaction. It was just right, so I fed her the rest of the bowl.


“Care for another?” I asked.


“That was just right,” she said. “How about just before I go to bed? I would like another glass of water.”


I got her another glass of water and held it for her while she drank.


“I don’t know why I’m so thirsty,” she said.


“Alcohol will dehydrate you badly,” I said. “You had plenty of dehydration today.”


“It’s been years since I’ve had anything to drink. Getting drunk enough to pass out was a first.”


“I’m glad that I brought the bottles on a whim this time,” I said.


“I’m glad you did too,” she said. “I would have hated to see you sawing my arm off with that saw.”


“I’d like to forget those details and concentrate on getting you healed up and getting your strength back.”


“That sounds good to me,” she said. “Will you pray for me?”


“I’ve been praying ever since you crashed,” I said.


I knelt beside her and asked for healing. When we were done praying, we sat and talked for a long while. She was very intelligent and very interesting to talk to. Soon it was time for bed.


“Tell you what,” I said. “I want to tape your arm stubs to your sides so that you won’t move them during the night.”


“Good idea,” she said.


I helped her stand. She did much better this time and was quite steady on her feet. We walked over to the kitchen table.


“I hate to say this, but I need to use the outhouse,” she said.


“Are you up to walking that far?” I asked. “I could carry you.”


“Let me try walking. You can pick me up if I need help.”


I put a coat over her shoulders. I put a coat on too. I grabbed the big flashlight and the rifle. I opened the cabin door and shined the big light all around. It was clear. We started to walk slowly to the outhouse. We were about halfway there when she asked me to carry her. I picked her up and finished the first half of the journey. She went first, and I helped her finish. She stood beside me while I also relieved myself. I opened the door and picked her up. We made it back to the cabin without incident. I set her down by the big chair and helped her sit down.


“I didn’t realize I was that weak,” she said.


“You’ve done remarkably well considering I cut away almost a quarter of your body today. Are you ready for the rest of the soup?”


“That sounds great,” she said. “Did you ever have dinner?”


“No. We got talking, and I guess I forgot,” I said. “I’ll make myself something while your soup is reheating.”


“You need to keep your strength up too,” she said. “I’m depending on you.”


I made myself some dinner and reheated her soup. I fed her the soup, and then I ate my dinner.


“Are you ready to have your arms taped?” I asked.


She nodded, then got up and came over to the table where I was standing. I took off the shirt that she was wearing. Then she was standing there in her bra. I couldn’t help but look at her nice breasts.


“Do I remember telling you to play with my breasts?” she asked.


“Yes. You asked me to play with them,” I said.


Her face reddened and she said: “I really did mean that. I would like for you to touch them.”


“Listen Kelly,” I said. “You are a very attractive woman. I find that am very attracted to you. It’s all I can do to keep my hands off of you. For both of our sakes, please don’t tempt me like that until you are healed up.”


“I’m sorry,” she said. “I am so drawn to you. Maybe it’s because you saved my life. I just want to be close to you all the time.”


“I’ll be right here with you. Don’t worry,” I comforted.


I got out a roll of three inch wide tape and taped each of her stubs loosely to her sides. She could move them a little but not very far. I helped her get into bed and covered her up.


“Aren’t you coming to bed now?” she asked.


“I’ll sleep in the chair tonight,” I replied.


“I want you to sleep next to me. Please,” she begged.


“I don’t think I should,” I said as I saw tears forming in her eyes.


“Dave please, I want you next to me,” she said. “I feel safe if you’re here where I can feel you.”


I stoked up the fire and crawled in beside her. She snuggled next to me and soon was asleep. I didn’t have any problem getting to sleep either.


The sun was streaming through the window when we woke up. I got up first and added some logs to the fire, which was almost out. I got back into bed with her. She kissed me on the cheek. I faced her and kissed her on the lips. Our first encounter became a very passionate kiss. I broke it off.


“We’re not ready for this,” I said.


“I’ve been wanting to kiss you like that for three days now,” she said.


“A little kissing is fine, but nothing more,” I said.


We kissed again—this time longer and more passionate. I wanted to fondle her breasts in the worst way, and I knew she wanted me to. I resisted the temptation, at least for now.


“OK, no more,” I said. “One thing will lead to another, and soon we’ll both want to do things we shouldn’t be doing. I’m concerned that we’ll get fooling around and pull your sutures loose. You’d start bleeding again, and I’d have to operate, and I sure as hell don’t want to do that.”


“I don’t want that either,” Kelly said. “Both for what I’ve put you through and for what I’d have to go through again. I’ll behave, at least until I’m healed up.”


“That will work out. We’ll both know each other much, much better by then,” I said. “I have some strong convictions about out of wedlock relationships.”


“I won’t tell you I’m a virgin, but I’ve developed some convictions too,” she replied. “I’ve only been with two guys—one when I was in high school, and the other when I was a sophomore in college. I guess I finally believed that intimate relationships were for marriage.”


“Good,” I said. “We’re thinking along the same lines. I’ve been intimate with three girls—one in high school, one as a freshman in college, and one as a sophomore. I’ve been out of school three years now.”


“Me too,” she said. “Where did you go to college?”


“It was a little school down south,” I said. “I studied civil engineering, with a minor in geology. What about you?”


“I went to ESU. I majored in home economics,” she replied. “With the geology background, I see why you’re working the mine.”


“It has all the signs of being close to pay dirt. This is my second year out here,” I said. “We should change your dressings.”


We got up. I put a blanket on the kitchen table and helped her sit up on it. She was not wearing a shirt, only her bra.


“How do you feel today?” I asked.


“I feel a lot stronger than yesterday,” she said. “I didn’t get lightheaded like I did before.”


“That’s a good sign,” I said. “Your color looks much better too.”


I removed the tape that was holding her arms at her side. She shrugged her shoulders to try to get a little movement. I unwrapped her left arm stub first. It had bled a little and was still seeping a bit. I had Kelly lift her arm to see if it hurt too bad. She could only go about forty-five degrees. I used an alcohol wipe to clean the dried blood from her incision where I had sewn the skin flap on.


“What do you think of my handiwork?” I asked.


“You did a good job. The incision is pretty straight,” Kelly replied.


I massaged the end of the stump a little to encourage circulation. I stopped when tears began to form in her eyes. I put a clean dressing over the incision and wrapped it tightly with a cling bandage. I did the right arm stump next. This one had bled a little more, but it had just about stopped. I massaged it too and cleaned off the dried blood with the wipe before I put a clean dressing over the incision. I wrapped the dressing and the end of her arm stub with a cling bandage.


“That should do it,” I said. “I think that you’re going to heal OK. We’ll need to massage your stumps—sorry, I meant arms—daily at least.”


“Stumps is right,” she said. “I don’t have arms as people know them, just stumps.”


“When we get back to civilization, you can have a plastic surgeon clean up the scars that I made on your stumps,” I said.


“No way in hell,” she said very defensively. “I want to proudly carry these scars to show the world what a wonderful man did with his hunting knife to save my life. These scars are here for keeps.”


“I’m speechless,” I replied. “I don’t know what to say. Is there anything else I can do for you?”


“I would love to lie in a bathtub for about an hour,” she said. “I haven’t seen a tub, so how about a sponge bath?”


“You’re right. We don’t have a tub,” I said. “I can give you a sponge bath if that’s what you want.”


I helped her down from the table. She went over and stood by the fireplace while I built a fire in the kitchen stove. Once the fire got going, I put on a large bucket of water on to heat. While the water was heating, I went over and stood next to the fireplace with her. She put her head on my shoulder as we stood there. I put my arm around her soft shoulder.


When the water was ready, I removed her bra. I started washing her back and then around her neck and shoulders. She turned around, and I washed under her chin and down to her breasts. I think she had as much enjoyment of me washing them as I did. I dried her upper half off. Next, I took off her jeans and panties. She was standing there nude in front of me. It certainly didn’t seem to bother her any. I cleaned her back side and then her front side. She squirmed like she was enjoying it when I washed her private parts. I dried her off. I found a clean pair of panties in her purse and put them on her, then her jeans. She didn’t want to wear her bra. I turned the sleeves halfway inside out on the flannel shirt so that the cuffs were by her shoulders. I slipped the shirt over each of her arm stubs and over her shoulders. I adjusted the sleeves by pulling them up until the end of the sleeve was tugging at the end of her arm stump. I buttoned the flannel shirt and tucked it into her jeans. I combed her hair. She walked over to the mirror.


“I don’t look too bad like this, do I?” she asked.


“No, you look all right.” I said.


“Just all right?” she pouted as she turned around.


“No, you look better than all right. You are a real turn on,” I said. “It’s all I can do to keep myself from throwing you down on the bed and going at it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”


“Only if you meant it,” she countered.


“I meant it,” I replied. “You seemed to enjoy me washing and looking at you.”


“Isn’t that the way a future wife is supposed to act? Showing off for her intended,” she said with a big smile.


“How do you know that I’ll want to marry you?” I quizzed as she walked over to the fire by me.


“I don’t for sure, but I have this gut feeling that you will,” she said and gave me a kiss on the cheek.


“We’ll wait and see.”


After that encounter, I decided that I needed some breakfast. I made up enough oatmeal and coffee for both of us. When it was ready and cool enough to eat, we both sat at the table. I fed her first and then ate mine. I held her coffee cup so that she could have a drink.


When breakfast was over, I decided to go out to the mine for a while. She decided that she wanted to read for a while and asked me for my Bible. I set it on the table for her and asked her where she wanted to read. She said the Psalms. I turned to them for her. She sat down and started to read them, turning the pages with her arm stump. I left her alone and went to the mine.


I worked in there the rest of the morning. The quartz vein that I was following was looking more promising all the time. When I went back to the cabin for lunch, Kelly was lying on the bed. She looked beautiful lying there sleeping, but so helpless without her arms. I started to fix lunch.


“Hi there,” she said. “What are you doing?”


“I’m fixing lunch; are you ready to eat?”


“Sure, I can eat anytime,” she replied. “I felt tired, so I lay down for a while.”


“Good, listen to your body,” I said. “Lunch is ready.”


She got up and came over to the table. I fed her a sandwich and coffee, then I ate my lunch.


“How’s the mine doing?” she asked.


“The quartz vein I’ve been following is looking more promising all the time.”


“How do you know where to start the mine?” she asked.


“You look for just the right rock formation,” I said. “What you are looking for triggers what the rock formation should look like. I’m looking for gold, so I’m following a quartz vein.”


“That’s the white streaks in the gray rocks,” she said.


“You’ve got it,” I said. “You usually find the gold with the quartz.”


“Can I watch you work?” she asked.


“Not yet,” I said. “Maybe in a few days when you get your strength back.”


“Well OK,” she pouted.


I went back out to the mine and finished the day. I came in and fixed dinner for us. Kelly had spent most of the day in the big chair by the fire recuperating. I taped her arms before we went to bed.


The next morning, we both got up. I stoked the fire and changed her dressings. The bleeding had stopped, and her stumps didn’t seem to be as painful when I massaged them. I worked in the mine while Kelly stayed in the cabin except when we made trips to the outhouse. The day was uneventful, except that we used our time together to get to know each other better. She was indeed a beautiful person, internally and externally.


The next two days had the same routine. Kelly felt strong enough to go into the mine with me and watch me work. I was beginning to take some gold out of the vein.


The following morning, I decided that her stitches through her skin should come out. She was healing nicely and her skin was starting to grow over the sutures. I used her manicure scissors to cut the sutures. I pulled them through with the forceps. There were just a few spots of blood. I cleaned them with an alcohol wipe before I put clean dressings and cling bandages back on her stumps.


“How much longer do my stumps have to stay bandaged?” she asked. “I have pretty good movement without pain.”


“I’m not sure,” I replied. “Maybe a few more days.”


I butchered the wolf while she watched and gave me some suggestions on cuts. I wrapped the meat and put it up in the cache. She went with me to the mine for the rest of the afternoon. Even though she was unable to help, it was good to have her company.


A month passed. Kelly’s arms had healed nicely, even though they still had a few tender spots. I massaged her stumps twice a day to be sure that circulation was encouraged. She showed no sign of developing gangrene or infection. My drastic action had paid off in her saved life.


Each day she went to the mine with me. She was wonderful company and tried her damnedest to try and move some of the rocks. The mine was paying off much better than I had expected. The vein had widened significantly and was producing a very high-grade ore.


We prayed together each day, and each day our comfort level with each other grew. As she had predicted, I did ask her to become my wife. She accepted without hesitation. We decided to perform our own marriage ceremony out under the stars at midnight on New Year’s Eve. We found it hard to wait for the time to pass.


December thirty-first finally came—our wedding evening. We had prepared a nice meal. I said ‘we’ because Kelly had learned to do a lot of things using her stub arms. When we sat down to eat, I put a large rubber band on her right arm stub and slid a fork under it. She was able to eat most of her meal by herself.


As midnight approached, I bundled her warmly, then bundled myself. We went outside. It was a crisp clear night with no wind at all. The moon had not yet risen from behind the mountains. The sky appeared to be filled with a billion stars. At the stroke of midnight, we began saying our vows and promises to each other. It was all from memory—just the way each of us had planned our own. It was a beautiful thing to witness. It was almost too bad that no one else was there to be with us on this joyous occasion. After I pronounced us husband and wife, I kissed my bride. We both had tears in our eyes as we embraced. We had no sooner finished our kiss when the sky became totally ablaze with the northern lights. We had seen them before, but this light show exceeded anything we had seen before. It was like God approved of what we had done and was giving us his blessing. The magnificent show finally subsided, and we went back to the cabin. I carried my wife across the threshold. We had a wonderful wedding night, which lasted past noon the next day. We were both glad that we had waited. It made our actions that night much more special.


We worked in the mine most of the next month, only taking time off to hunt deer for venison. Kelly was an excellent cook. We worked well together in the kitchen.


One morning, we heard a plane. It was the supply plane bringing our staples just in time, because we had been rationing ourselves since my supplies were intended for just one person. He made a pass over the cabin. I talked to the pilot on the radio and had him drop the chute on the frozen river in front of the cabin. The package landed right on target. The pilot spotted the plane wreckage. I told him what had happened and that Bill had been killed. He said he would contact the authorities. I also told him that Kelly was with me and to come back in one month rather than two because we were consuming more supplies than I had originally intended. He said he would and signaled with a wigwag of his wings as he flew back down the river. Suddenly, we were alone again.


We had discovered that Kelly could pull the sled using the shoulder harness that I had used to get the sled and supplies up here. We retrieved our supplies and took them to the cabin. They were stowed in their places. We could eat well again.


Kelly and I fixed a fine meal to celebrate our replenished supplies. After dinner, we relaxed in front of the fire. Life was good with her. I only wished that I hadn’t needed to do the radical surgery on her and amputate both of her arms. She had adjusted well to her new ways of having to do things. Not once did she complain of her loss. I was proud to have her for a wife.


The vein in the mine had played out, and we spent the days working in the shed using a small pick and hammer breaking the rocks that contained the quartz and gold. We were doing this manual ore concentration so that we could haul out the rocks with gold and less just rocks. The process seemed to be working. We had several boxes of concentrate when we finished. We had no idea what it was worth.


We were really done up here, but still had several months to go before breakup. All we had to do was wait it out now. We spent our days just fooling around outside on the nice days and inside on the stormy ones. One evening, we were sitting around the fire after dinner just talking.


“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “When we get back, I think I want to get some prosthetic arms.”


“I’ve always just assumed that,” I replied.


“Some people never do get them,” she said. “I would like to become able to do as much as I can without them but to use them for going to work and social functions.”


“What kind do you think you want to get?” I asked.


“I think that I want to get hooks, rather than hands,” she replied. “There was a girl in college who didn’t have any hands, and she wore them. I’ve always thought that they looked cool.”


“What about social functions?” I asked.


“I’d probably wear the hooks unless it was really fancy, then I would wear prosthetic hands,” she said.


“Well, you have all winter to decide,” I said.


One afternoon I was fooling around in the concentrator shed. I thought that Kelly was in the cabin. Suddenly I heard her scream. I rushed from the shed to see her on the ladder to the cache—somewhere she had never been before. I raced over to her.


“What’s the matter?” I yelled.


She started to climb down the ladder. She turned to me, and her eyes were filled with tears. She was sobbing uncontrollably.


“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.


“I wanted to surprise you and get down a venison roast,” she sobbed. “I forgot that my arms were up there. I moved a tarp and saw my arms lying there. It was just awful. I’m sorry.”


“I knew they were there, and I’ve always kept them covered, just like Bill’s body,” I said.


“I knew it too,” she sniffed, “I just wasn’t ready for it. I’m sorry I went to pieces.”


We went back into the house. I had her sit down by the fire in the big chair for a chat while I sat on the bed.


“It was just a shock. I wasn’t expecting to see them. I knew they were there.”


“We’ve never really talked that much about how you felt about losing your arms,” I said. “Maybe now would be a good time to get it all out.”


“It was kind of strange,” she said. “It wasn’t until I saw them there and thought about it that I realize that I’m happier now than I was with arms.”


“Could you elaborate?”


“Since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated by people with missing limbs. I often wondered what it would be like to be an amputee, either arm or leg. Sometimes I wished that I was one, not that I would do something as drastic as going out to purposely have a limb amputated or anything like that. I just wanted to be one. That’s why, when I started to show the signs of gangrene, I didn’t have a problem with you needing to amputate my arms. Now I’m the way that I wanted to be. Do you understand?”


“I think I do,” I said. “I remember talking about this in a psychology class in college. They said in some people the drive is so great that they actually go out and cause an accident to cause the amputations to be done. In others, the drive was not that great, but those people would spend their life wishing.”


“I was in the second group. I was spending my life wishing that I was an amputee,” she said. “Dave, can you forgive me for the way I feel about this?”


“Kelly, there’s nothing to forgive. You feel the way you do. In your case, you got lucky,” I said.


“Dave, thank you for being so understanding,” she said. “I feel much better now that I’ve told you. It was becoming quite a burden on me. I never want to have any secrets from you.”


“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was difficult for you,” I said. “Kelly, I love you more than anything in this world.”


“Oh Dave, I do love you too,” she replied with tears of joy in her eyes. “You are so understanding and tender with me.”


We embraced and kissed for a long time. I had a little better insight as to what made her tick. We bundled up and went for a walk out on the frozen river and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together.


About two weeks later, the peace and quiet of our valley was broken by the sounds of a helicopter. It was a government helicopter and landed near the plane crash sight. Kelly and I went out to greet them. When the helicopter engine stopped, the pilot and a trooper got out. They came over and talked to us. They told us that the supply plane pilot had told them about the crash and that I had everything under control. They said they needed to do an official investigation. We all walked around the crash sight. Kelly told them that they had been out for just a fun flight when they got caught in the fast-moving storm and that the compass was not operational. She told them that she had been badly hurt, but didn’t tell them the extent of her injuries. I told them about Bill’s body and how I had removed it. I invited them into the cabin for some coffee.


We all walked up to the cabin. I helped Kelly take off the long sleeved coat that she was wearing. You should have seen the looks on their faces when they saw Kelly the way she really is.


“Both of my arms were severely cut during the crash,” she explained to her now dumbfounded audience. “They both had deep gashes down to the bone. I had no feeling below the gashes. Dave was able to get the bleeding stopped, but I developed circulation problems. Dave amputated my arms just as gangrene was setting in.”


“He probably saved your life then,” the trooper said.


“I have no doubt in my mind that he did,” Kelly replied. “I asked him to do it.”


“What did you use to perform the operations?” he asked.


“My hunting knife mostly. I have a bone saw for butchering. She had some manicure scissors, and the first aid kit had some dissolving sutures and a needle. It also had two small hemostat clamps and an ample supply of dressings and bandages. Luckily, it was a big first aid kit. I used alcohol wipes and whiskey for antiseptic.”


“That’s absolutely amazing,” the trooper said. “What did you use for anesthesia?”


“Dave fed me straight whiskey until I passed out,” Kelly said.


“How did it work?” he asked.


“I didn’t feel a thing during the operation,” Kelly said. “But I had one hell of a hangover when I woke up. My head hurt worse than my arms.”


“Dave, what did you do with the pilot’s body?” the trooper asked.


“I wrapped him in a blanket and put him up in the cache. I didn’t want the animals getting him,” I said. “I was planning on burying him in the spring when the ground thawed.”


“His family would like to bury him in the family plot,” the trooper said. “We can take him back with us. We can take the both of you too.”


“I’m going to stay with Dave,” Kelly said very emphatically. “My place is with him now.”


“I have a heavy load to bring out,” I said. “I’m sure that we would be beyond your weight limits. Do you know Don Hanson?”


“I do,” the pilot said. “I usually have coffee with him every morning.”


“Could you send him back out for us with his big helicopter? I’m guessing we have about ten tons to haul out,” I said.


“Sure. It’ll take him a few days though; he’s working a pipeline job,” the pilot said. “That’s quite a load.”


“The mine has been good to us this year,” I said.


“It sounds like it,” the trooper replied. “If you can show us the body, we can get out of here.”


“Kelly, why don’t you stay in here while we do this?” I said.


She looked at me and nodded. The three of us went out to the cache. I helped them take the body down and put him in a body bag. I also asked him to take Kelly’s arms and dispose of them properly. They said they would. We packed Bill’s body to the helicopter and loaded it. They got in and took off. I went back into the cabin.


Kelly was sitting on the bed crying. I sat beside her and put my arm around her.


“Poor Bill, all he wanted to do was to take me for a ride in his airplane,” she sniffed.


“He’ll be properly taken care of now,” I said.


She sat up and looked me straight in the eye and said, “Did you have them take my arms too?”


“Yes,” I replied sheepishly.


“Good,” she said. “They’re gone for good, and now we won’t have to deal with them. I’m the way I wanted to be, and I’m with the man I love.”


We embraced.



E N D