The plane’s instruments had failed. Seeing as how it was in the midst of one of the worst blizzards ever recorded, this was not entirely surprising.

Such was life in the Northwest Territories.

The small community of Wekweètì, situated about one hundred ninety-five kilometers northwest of Yellowknife, was in a state of emergency. A virus, its vector being a visiting relative from Behchokò, had decided to spread in the extremely miniscule settlement. This virus also happened to have a high mortality rate, hence the urgency of the medicine run.

Warning lights flashed and grating klaxons sounded. The vibration of the engines faded, then cut out entirely. The occupants in the hurriedly tried to save the flight; finding it futile, they braced for impact.

The view from the windscreens dissolved into white, reminiscent of a snow crash, as the majestic silver bird hit the ground in the midst of the howling, frozen tempest.