Deep Freeze

  Copyright © 2017 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

  For reading levels and more information, look up this title at www.lernerbooks.com.

  Front cover: © JonikFoto.pl/Shutterstock.com, snowy road scenery; © mycteria/Shutterstock.com, swirling snow; © iStockphoto.com/stanley45, man; © iStockphoto.com/robertiez, snowy trees scenery; © iStockphoto.com/Emily Skeels, dog, © iStockphoto.com/Marina Mariya (swirl).

  Images in this book used with the permission of: © JonikFoto.pl/Shutterstock.com, snowy road scenery; © mycteria/Shutterstock.com, swirling snow; © iStockphoto.com/stanley45, man; © iStockphoto.com/robertiez, snowy trees scenery; © iStockphoto .com/Emily Skeels, dog, © iStockphoto.com/Marina Mariya (swirl).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5. Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Johnson, Kristin F., 1968- author.

  Title: Deep freeze / Kristin F. Johnson.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2017] | Series: Day of disaster | Summary: “What is supposed to be a fun ice-fishing trip may turn deadly. When a boy arrives at a northern cabin during the blizzard of the century, he faces more than just frostbite”— Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016018123 (print) | LCCN 2016034212 (ebook) | ISBN 9781512427769 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781512430929 (pb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781512427837 (eb pdf)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Blizzards—Fiction. | Survival—Fiction. | Minnesota—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.J624 De 2017 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.J624 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016018123

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-41501-23362-8/1/2016

  9781512435092 ePub

  9781512435108 ePub

  9781512435115 mobi

  For Ben N. and Ben V., “The Bens”

  1

  The day of the disaster, it was twenty degrees below zero, with snow that showed no sign of letting up.

  Most of Zach’s friends had left for warm spring break vacations, while Zach and his dad decided they would go ice fishing. A beach vacation was sounding much more appealing considering the way this trip was starting off. The temperature was dropping by the minute, and Zach was more likely to get frostbite than a suntan. This place was almost in Canada and it was freezing! No palm trees or sand here. All he could see from the window of his little cabin was blowing snow.

  Zach balled his freezing hands into fists and saw by the glowing red numbers on his watch that his dad was over two hours late.

  Normally, they would have driven up together, but Zach’s dad was out of town on a work trip, so they had decided they would drive separately and meet at the cabin. Zach had planned to open up the cabin, get groceries, and have everything all set by the time his dad arrived. But when the snow started coming down harder, Zach skipped the grocery store and headed straight to the cabin to get the heater going. He wasn’t hungry at the time, having just polished off a bag of tortilla chips on the drive up, but by now his stomach was growling. He wished his dad would show up so they could go get some food.

  Zach walked over to the fridge to check if there was anything to eat. But even as he pulled open the handle he knew it was probably no use.

  Empty. His dad was always meticulous about clearing any food out of the fridge before they left.

  Zach shut the door and stared at the pictures stuck haphazardly to the fridge. He saw a scattered timeline of his life. An old picture of Zach missing his two front teeth from the Boy Scout trip where he had first learned how to fish. A wrinkled copy of Zach’s freshman year football picture. A shot of him sitting behind the wheel of the old, tan family car right after he had gotten his driver’s license. A picture of him in the dorky uniform he wore to his first job. All of these achievements had been followed quickly by a father-son trip up to the cabin to celebrate with a weekend of fishing.

  They had planned this ice-fishing trip as soon as Zach got his college acceptance letter. It was supposed to be a last hurrah before Zach went away to college next year. He wouldn’t have been surprised if his dad brought up a copy of the acceptance letter to stick on the fridge next to the picture with his childish, toothless smile.

  Nothing had ever stopped them from celebrating with a fishing trip, so when his dad had called and said the weather forecasters predicted a blizzard, Zach insisted they go on the trip as planned. They had been there in storms before. Why should this one be a big deal?

  There was a scratch on the cabin door.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming!”

  Zach opened the door and shivered as the cold hit him. Normally, he sweated through anything more than a t-shirt, but this storm was brutal. He was glad that he had put on a second pair of pants. He thought briefly about going out to the car to grab the spare sweatshirt he kept in the trunk, but decided he’d just wait until his dad showed up.

  Skye, Zach’s dog, bounded past him into the cabin. Her fur was covered in a layer of snow. She sneezed and shook out her fur, the same way she shook off after having a bath. Snow sprinkled all over the entry to the cabin. She nudged his hands. Her wet, snowy fur was freezing against his already numb fingers.

  “Skye, you look more like a white husky than a golden retriever,” Zach said as he dodged the spray.

  Skye had loved coming up to the cabin ever since she was a puppy. She loved being outdoors and riding on the boat with them. His dad had said that since Skye was getting older, maybe she should sit this trip out. But as Zach was loading up the car with his fishing supplies, Skye hopped into the back seat. He took it as a sign that he should bring her.

  “I hope Dad gets here soon,” Zach thought aloud. What was taking him so long? The cabin was lonely without all three of them there together. Zach was glad he had brought Skye along.

  Zach shivered. He thought he had turned the heat on as soon as he got to the cabin, but it didn’t seem any warmer than when he arrived. He crossed the cabin and knelt down to check the knob next to the baseboard. He rapped his knuckles on the metal. The whole unit was ice cold. He turned the knob, but there was no satisfying hiiisssssss telling him the heat had been adjusted or even turned on. He knocked his fist against the side of the heater. The heater started clanking but didn’t seem to be heating up. Skye wandered over and stood over Zach’s shoulder, breathing warm air into his ear.

  Zach laughed. “Skye, you need a mint.”

  He held his hands over the heater vent. Still nothing. He stood up and looked around the room.

  The old cabin had electrical heaters running along the baseboards. The small space had a combined living room and kitchen that held an outdated stove and a refrigerator with a broken handle. Everything inside the cabin was old and breaking down, including the heater.

  Zach’s dad had often made small adjustments in the heater to get things going again. Maybe it just needed some tightening up.

  Zach grabbed the toolbox they kept by the cabin door and lugged it over to the heater. He dug through it until he felt the flathead screwdriver. Then he tightened the screws on the side of the heater’s base. The clanking stopped, but the metal was still cold.

  Skye pawe
d at the heater and looked intently at Zach.

  “It’s okay, Skye. I’ll get it going,” he said.

  Zach remembered that his dad sometimes lit the pilot light again. He peeked into the heater’s opening. Sure enough, the flame had gone out. He dug around the kitchen drawer and found an old book of matches alongside some mouse droppings. He made his way back to the heater, knelt down, and struck a match. But the flame blew out right away. Zach sighed, striking a second match. The old heater banged and clanked. It hissed and rattled, then started shaking.

  Skye barked at the heater, the way she always barked at the vacuum cleaner back home—as if it was an intruder.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Zach said, although even he had to admit that the heater did sound menacing. Zach stuffed the matches in his jeans pocket. He took a step away from the old heater, but in the tiny cabin there was really nowhere else to go. Then another noise began. Somewhere inside its belly, the heater groaned.

  2

  The heater actually groaned. Followed by a bang and a few pops. It was getting louder and shaking harder all the while.

  Skye barked again and paced back and forth in front of the heater.

  “Quiet!” Zach tried to calm the dog, but Skye ignored him. Zach didn’t like being alone in the secluded cabin with a noisy heater and now a barking dog. The cabin was the only place around for seven or eight miles in any direction. But the noise in the cabin was not part of the peaceful vacation he had in mind.

  Outside, snowflakes fell faster than they had only moments ago. His little tan car was completely covered by a layer of white, making it nearly unrecognizable. How could that have happened so quickly? He would have to dig the car out to get anywhere.

  Zach pushed on the front door, but the spring at the top of the door creaked and stayed put.

  Zach murmured to himself and kicked the door. The cabin door always got stuck at the worst times. Just like everything else in the cabin, it needed replacing.

  The heater clanked again.

  Zach really wanted to get away from the noise, but how was he going to stay warm if he left the cabin?

  They used to build fires in the pit outside, but that was covered in snow. With all that snow falling, making a fire outside—or even finding dry wood—would be a challenge.

  Meanwhile, the heater seemed to be getting worse. The sounds grew louder.

  Skye nuzzled Zach’s leg and yipped.

  “Let me think,” Zach said, rubbing her head, trying to calm her.

  The heater gasped and knocked.

  Skye growled low and erupted into barking, louder this time, more insistent.

  The heater rumbled and shook some more. Steam rose from the top. Zach knew that he really needed to leave the cabin.

  He grabbed his jacket, hat, and gloves. Zach glanced at the heater and dashed into the kitchen, throwing open the cupboards. Two cans of beans and a candy bar. He grabbed the stash and raced to the door.

  The noise in the cabin was unbearable. A mixture of metal rattling and dog barking echoed off the walls.

  Zach pushed on the cabin door again, but it still wouldn’t budge. He kicked the bottom corner of it with the toe of his hiking boot, trying to loosen the stuck coil. After a few tries, the door started to wiggle. Zach shoved it open enough to squeeze out and slipped through the crack. Skye followed.

  Just as they emerged into the cold, there was a loud crack and a sudden wave of heat. The heater blew up behind them.

  3

  Zach flew face first into the snow. For a moment, he lay stunned. What happened? An explosion. The heater. He rolled over and patted down his arms and legs. “I’m okay,” he told himself, with his heart hammering. “I’m okay.” Then, he looked around.

  “Skye! Skye!”

  The dog was cowering in the snow, surrounded by scraps of wood and metal. The explosion had shaken her up and she didn’t want to move.

  “Skye? Come here. What’s wrong?”

  She tucked her front paw up to her chest and started limping hesitantly toward Zach.

  Just then, a glimmer of light in the snow caught his eyes. Zach surveyed the wreckage from the heater. The cabin windows were blown out. Broken glass stuck out of the snow everywhere, half hidden by the freshly-fallen powder.

  “Skye! Wait! Don’t walk through there.”

  Skye stopped. She whimpered and shook the injured paw she held out of the snow.

  Zach walked over to her using wide steps, as if he were navigating a minefield. When he reached Skye, he knelt down and lifted her paw. She flinched the moment he touched her.

  “It’s okay, Skye.” Zach turned Skye’s paw as much as he dared so he could examine the pads on the bottom. A small tear cut the larger pad. A sliver of glass poked out of the edge of the wound. He tried to grab the glass to pull it out, but Skye yelped and wrenched her paw back out of his hand.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Zach said to Skye. He stroked her head and slowly reached for her paw again. Once her paw was back in his hand, Zach knew that he would probably only get one more chance to get the glass out without risking it getting lodged in any deeper.

  “Let’s try one more time.” He took a deep breath and lifted her paw a little bit higher, being as careful as possible. He turned it over and looked for the shard. When he found it again, he grabbed firmly and pulled. This time the glass came out. Skye licked his face and tenderly put her paw down into the snow.

  Zach laughed, relieved. “You’re welcome.” But his hands were so cold. He grabbed his gloves that were sticking out of the snow next to him and pulled them on. He needed to get moving if he wanted to stay warm.

  Zach shepherded Skye away from the worst of the wreckage, being careful to avoid any of the glass half-hidden in the snow. She left a red trail in the snow behind her where her injured paw touched the white ground, but she didn’t seem to be too hurt. At least she was putting her paw on the ground again.

  Zach looked around for the few things he had managed to gather from the cabin before the explosion. They had scattered throughout the yard when the heater blew. He shook off the snow and put on his jacket, then grabbed his hat and jammed it down over his ears. Other than the cans of beans and the candy bar that lay a few feet from him, nothing else seemed to survive the blast.

  They needed help.

  He pulled out his phone to call 9-1-1. His dad had cell service installed at the cabin a couple of years ago so he wouldn’t miss any work calls. Normally Zach hated that his dad could be interrupted on their trips and liked that the service was still pretty shoddy. But now he was praying the call would go through. He checked his cell phone. One bar. He dialed the police. The call dropped even before he heard it ring. No signal. He tried texting his mom, but the message wouldn’t send.

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to drive out of here. Ready to do some digging, Skye?” Zach said as he turned to look at the retriever. She was already turning white from the snow accumulating on her fur.

  Zach made his way to the car. By now, the layer of snow was over a foot thick. He used his sleeve to push most of the snow off the driver’s side door and reached into the car to grab the brush from under the driver’s seat. Then he got to work clearing off the rest of the car.

  The fallen snow came up to his mid-calf and fell into his hiking boots. The snow was getting heavier now. It wasn’t melting on his jacket anymore—it was accumulating.

  Snow and wind struck his face.

  Skye trailed behind him and barked. She tried jumping through the snow, but she kept stopping to lick her injured paw.

  “We can’t stay out here! We’ll freeze to death,” Zach told her, but his voice was lost, sucked into the blowing wind.

  Woof! Skye barked once more with finality.

  Why was Skye so adamant? Maybe she was warning him about something, but Zach looked around and didn’t see any danger.

  A sound like a tree branch snapping in half came shooting out from the nearby woods. What was that? An animal k
nocking something over? A moose or bison? Or a bear?

  He peered through the woods, but all he saw was a thick layer of white. Maybe he was just jumpy, but Zach thought he heard another snap coming from the direction of the trees.

  4

  Zach stood still, but he didn’t hear anything else. He hoped it wasn’t a bear.

  Bearclaw Lake got its name because of the black bears that lived around the lake’s edge. Zach tried to remember what he had learned about black bears in Boy Scouts. If he saw a black bear, the best thing to do was to make noise. Yeah, that’s right. It was all coming back to him. If he ran, the bear would probably chase him. Plus, they can climb trees, so it wasn’t like he could just climb his way to safety.

  Zach had never been face-to-face with a bear before. And he hoped he never would be. The taxidermy black bear at the outfitter in town had towered over Zach as a kid and was still at least a foot taller than him.

  He pulled up his sheepskin gloves a little further. He wanted to clear the car off before more snow accumulated. And before any animals decided they were hungry for a late lunch.

  The brush cut through the snow, but he had to make several passes to clear the deep build-up. Even working fast, Zach struggled to keep up with the snow that was now persistently falling. It was falling almost faster than he could clear it off.

  Zach needed to dig out the tires, too, or he’d never get anywhere. As he got around to the last tire, he looked up to see Skye leaping through the snow, trying to catch the falling flakes in her mouth.

  She barked and shook new snow off her golden coat.

  “Skye! Here, Skye!”

  Skye’s ears perked up. She was on alert. Her tags jingled as she jumped through the deep snow and over to Zach.

  A few feet before she reached him, Skye tumbled through the snow in front of the trunk of the car. Zach rushed over to the dog, worried she may have hurt herself again, but was met with a reassuring bark. She had just tripped over a branch hidden in the fallen snow. Zach stroked Skye’s back and looked at the car. He hadn’t thought to look in the trunk. Maybe there was something in there that could be helpful.