James came to first.

The three of them had impacted the snowdrift and had fallen in about a meter and a half. The rope, impossibly, was still connecting them together. When the others regained consciousness, they stood dazed in the snow for some moments. Upon realizing that the medicine was nowhere to be found, the trio split up and located the boxes in a snow bank close by. The shipment appeared intact.

“Well,” James began, “enough of this. Let’s get going. Which way is north?”

Timothy took out the compass, then frowned. “The compass is a fail,” he intoned.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No,” Timothy replied, extending the compass in James’ direction. Its glass face was fractured. “See? No matter which way I point it, the needle doesn’t seek north. It just stays static.”

“What?”

Craig had felt something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Suddenly, it struck him. “Uh, guys—”

They ignored him, still discussing the compass.

“Hey!” he shouted.

“What?!” the two men demanded.

“Where’s the wind?”