“I don’t want to die yet…! Not when Keith hasn’t even gotten married…!” wailed Dylan, prompting Zivon to frown even more.
While he wasn’t going to deny that getting out of this pickle was going to be difficult, he wasn’t about to give up that easily either. With that, he was prompted to reply, “…If you really want to see him get married, then don’t die yet! Remember, we’ve already managed to get what we came for, so as long as we can make it out of this, we can then call for a helicopter to send us back to Darlsbury. Just hang in for a bit longer.”
“…Yeah, you’re right! But… how much further do we have to travel in order to make that call…?”
Zivon, for one, had made sure to memorize the layout of this place, and if he remembered correctly, they had descended three hundred feet before walking forward another hundred and sixty feet. Together, that made four hundred and sixty feet. Though that wasn’t too far under normal circumstances, their situation was far from normal. They barely had enough oxygen left, and it didn’t help that the snow was now piled up to their chests!
Not wanting to discourage Dylan, he was prompted to reply, “…We’ll be able to make it out in two hours. Survive for that long and we’ll be able to make it home by noon tomorrow.”
Hope returning to his eyes, Dylan took a deep breath before saying, “…Very well! Two hours, it is! Helen! Wake up! We’re not dying here!”
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