Snow Hibernation Broken Ribs

Chapter I

Jack couldn't help himself anymore. "I don't like the look of that at all," he repeated. "Something's not right there Mac. I think you did more than break your ribs."

Mac finally managed to stand up straight again. He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself, then said, "ya, well, we don't really have time to figure that out right now do we?"

Jack grumbled in response. He hated when Mac shrugged off his injuries, but it was even worse when the kid had a good reason to do it. Mac was right this time. Jack couldn't look him over in the freezing cold. They had to find shelter first. No matter how much Jack made his concerns verbal, the only thing it was going to do was make him feel a bit better for saying it out loud.

Mac scanned the horizon. They really didn't have much to work with. Sure, there could be a hunting shelter beyond the tree line, or maybe over the next hill. But then, like Jack said, there might not be one. And if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure how much farther he could make it. It was getting harder and harder to breath.

"Mac?"

Mac snapped out of his daze, turning to Jack. He'd been staring at the snow a lot longer than he had intended.

"Ya.. uh.. sorry," Mac started. He shook his head. "We have to find a large drift. Tall enough that we can dig a hole into. We're going to make something called a snow cave."

"Snow cave? So we're going to be like caveman?"

Mac chuckled. "Ya. I guess so."

Jack grinned and pointed to the tree line where a pile of snow was built up. "You think that will be high enough?"

Mac opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when a sharp pain jolted through his chest. He curled over himself, then completely fell into the snow.

"Mac! Mac, you okay? What's going on?" Jack crouched down next to his partner who was holding the fabric of the ski jacket with white knuckles.

Mac shook his head. "I don't know if I can make it to the tree line."

It was a short and quiet statement, but Jack knew it held a lot more weight to it. If Mac was willing to admit that he couldn't do something, that meant things had just progressed to a whole new level—and quickly.

A cold wind whipped by and Jack looked up, seeing the storm clouds approaching. They really had to get out of the open. A blizzard was coming.

"What's going on, hoss? Besides a few cracked ribs. Because I know it's a little more serious than that by now."

Mac finally began to loosen his grip on the fabric of his jacket. His body was nestled in the fluffy snow where he had fallen and his legs were partly covered in the flakes. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut before opening them again.

"I think I've got a pneumothorax. Or hemothorax. Or a hemopneumothorax," Mac replied.

"English please?"

"I've got a bunch of blood and air in my chest that's not supposed to be there."

"Right," Jack replied. He suspected it was something along those lines. "And how are we supposed to fix that?"