“They tried to kill me,” she said. I was still lying on my front in the snow. It was difficult to even move. My arms felt limp, solid, almost dead.
“What happened?”
“I came over the edge there, and no one⦔
“What?” I yelled into the wind. Hope crawled over to me and put her face close to mine.
“They came over the edge of that last descent, and everyone just shot for the ramp or whatever that thing is. No one told me I would have to jump. Alex, I wasn't even close to ready.”
“But everyone else made it fine?”
“Yeah, like they'd done it before.”
“Even Bryce?”
“Well, you know Bryce,” she said. “It's not like anything would surprise him.” The wind was pushing what felt like shards of glass into my face.
“We have to get off of here,” I said. “Before we freeze.”
“Where did my board go?” she asked. I couldn't see it, but there was really only one option.
“Down,” I replied. I looked at the slope beneath us. It was steep, and the powder was loose. I undid my bindings.
“Sit up here,” I said, pointing to a spot just in front of the front binding. Hope clambered over without a word. I got on behind her and started pushing. Once we hit the steeper bit of the slope, it was easy enough to slide down.
Stopping was the only real problem.
I dug my heels in as we approached the trees, but it wasn't enough. The snow just bundled up around my legs. Hope jammed her legs down as far as they could go, but that didn't help either. We were heading straight for a large evergreen.
“Jump!” I yelled, grabbing Hope by the shoulders and shoving her off the board. We both sank into the snow and came to a stop. My board, on the other hand, rode on top of the powder until it hit a tree. Then it did a giant flip and landed upside down.
“That had better not be broken,” Hope said.
“Just get into the trees,” I yelled. We scrambled through the waist-deep snow. It was like swimming in Jell-O. It had warmed a little, and the snow was already becoming spongier. We finally managed to get into the wooded area. Hope leaned against a tree, exhaled and began to cry. I looked around and found her board where it had stopped and put it at her feet.
“Please don't cry,” I said, before I realized how insensitive that would sound. “I mean, it's all right, Hope. We'll get out of here.”
“How do you know that? We're all alone up here.”
I thought about that for a moment. “No, we're not,” I replied.
“Who else is here?” She looked hopeful.
“Sam and Dave,” I said. Then, “And the third guy in the cabin with you.”
“What third guy?” Hope asked. She had a glove off and was wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“When I was in the woodshed, I could hear three people talking.”
She shook her head. “No, just two.”
“What?” I had distinctly heard three voices. “What about Bryce?”
“He was there too.”
“Just there? Not handcuffed or tied to a chair or anything? Did he say anything to you?”
“No. The kidnappers stuffed me in the bathroom and tied me to the sink as soon as we got into the cabin.” That seemed strange to me. If Bryce had been kidnapped, wouldn't they have tied him up like they had Hope?
“So what are we supposed to⦔
“Shhhh,” I said, holding a hand up. I could hear something.
Rumbling.
Like giant rocks knocking together.
Like an avalanche.
“Hope,” I said. “We have to go.” My eyes must have been huge and filled with fear, because Hope immediately began to panic.
“What? Why?”
I grabbed her board and put it in front of her. “Fast,” I said. The rumble was getting louder. An avalanche takes out everything in its path. Depending on how big the avalanche was, this little forested area we were in could be flattened in a matter of seconds. The week before, we'd watched a video of an avalanche. When the video was over, no one said a word. It was one of the most frightening things I'd ever seen.
“Avalanche, Hope,” I said, grabbing her foot and jamming it into the binding. She looked uphill.
“Where?”
“It's coming. I can hear it.” The ground shook. “I can feel it.” We were in a spot just beneath a steep slope. With the angle of the hill and the weather, we couldn't see much farther than a hundred feet up the mountain. The avalanche would be on us before we knew it.
Hope got her other foot buckled in. I jumped through the snow to where my board had landed and quickly checked it for damage. One of the edges had popped out slightly, but it was at the rear and faced backward. As long as I didn't do a 180 out there, I'd be fine.
“Go,” I said. The rumble was getting louder and louder. I expected any minute to see a great wave of snow flowing down the hill. I gave Hope a push to get her started. She shot out ahead of me. I slammed my boots into the bindings, grabbed a tree, pulled myself back and shot forward. I went into a tuck right away and caught up with Hope before we were out of the wooded area.
“Tuck,” I yelled. She bent down over her board and leaned forward. I scanned the area beneath us, looking for a spot where there was some kind of tunnel in the ground. We'd been told to look for a ditchâan area that was lower than the rest of the mountainâif we were ever caught in an avalanche.
And then to stay out of it.
Get up on the top. As high up as possible. You cannot outrun an avalanche. It's impossible. Your only real choice is to head for higher ground.
This part of the mountain was a straight shot though. There was nothing we could do but go down. Hope did a wide turn, trying to slow down.
“Hope,” I yelled. “Straight. No turning.”
“I can't!” she screamed back.
“You have to. We can't slow down.” The rumble was deafening. It sounded like a herd of buffalo chasing a mass of rhinos down the mountain above us. Hope cut back in front of me and settled into a tuck. I knelt, keeping as low to the ground as possible and leaning hard over the front of the board.
And then I looked behind me.
The avalanche had crested the slope and was overtaking the wooded area we'd just traveled through. The trees bent to the ground as the great wave of snow washed over them.
“Go!” I yelled at Hope again.
“Where?”
“Straight.” The avalanche was catching up with us. It was only a matter of a minute or so before it would be on us. All I could think of was all that snow on top of me.
Forever.
Not being able to breathe beneath its weight. Or being dragged down the mountain like a surfer dumped on a reef and then sucked into shore.
I started scanning the area beneath us again, trying to find a spot where we could get up and above the wash of snow and debris.
But there was nothing. Nowhere to go but down.
We entered another circle of trees. This time it was mostly evergreens. We were getting to the base of the mountain, but because of the storm, I had no idea how close we were. Absolutely everything was white.
Snow began to pass beside us and beneath our boards. The center of the avalanche would be on us any second.
The slope turned slightly, banking first to one side then the other. At the second corner, there was a ridge. It must have been twenty feet high. The avalanche could wash right over this, or it could follow the cut of the mountain and keep going. We didn't have a choice though. We had to try.
“Hope!” I yelled. She couldn't hear me. The roar of the avalanche was all around us. Inhaling all sound. Taking everything that got in its way to the base of the mountain. I tucked up beside her and pointed at the ridge. She shook her head. I pointed again.
“It's our only chance,” I yelled.
“I can't get up there,” she yelled. I clasped my hands behind my back.
“Tuck,” I yelled. “And when you get to the lip, just launch. Just jump! You can do it.” She looked at the launching area as I shot ahead. I couldn't help her any more than I just had. She was going to have to believe in herself now.
The side of the hill seemed to be mostly ice from where winds had whipped across the slope and pushed the snow into giant piles. With sections like this on mountains, the other side is often a straight drop as well. I came in at an angle, then cut hard up the side like I would if I was going to launch off the wall of a half pipe. When I hit the top, I pulled my legs up and grabbed the base of the board. I landed, pushing hard on my heel edge, then flipped over onto my stomach and watched Hope shoot up the wall. The avalanche was right behind her, rolling along the side of the ridge. I could make out everything from the logs of a cabin to trees and rocks rolling in the avalanche's wake.
“Pump, Hope. Pump!” I yelled. She didn't look behind her, which was a good thing. She focused on the lip. The avalanche washed up to the top of the ridge and grabbed the back of her board just as she was about to take air. It shot her out horizontally. I reached out and grabbed her as she flew past. Her speed dragged us both sideways. I slid along the top of the ridge until I could dig my board into the snow. Then we stopped, and I held onto Hope with all I had.
“Hold on,” I yelled. She screamed. My arms felt like they were going to be ripped out of their sockets. But if I let her go, she'd be washed down the ridge and rolled into the mess of snow and debris. My board slipped, and Hope screamed again. I looked up the mountain. Snow was pouring over the top of the steep area above the trees. I couldn't see any more than the tips of the trees now, and they were all pointed downhill. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The simple power of snow rolling down a hill.
Hope dug her snowboard into the ridge and started pulling herself up. I pulled as hard as I could. As hard as I ever had. She popped up onto the top of the ridge and looked down over the other side.
“That is a
long
way down,” she said. The final bits of snow trickled down the mountain. Everything beneath us looked different. There were trees dropped on the trail. Rocks, even boulders, were strewn about the space. Hope leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
“Whoa,” I said.
“You saved me. Like, twice in the last half hour.”
“You're welcome.”
She leaned her head into my chest and stayed there, shaking. I put an arm around her.
“I want to go home,” she said eventually. So did I.
“Let's get down to the bottom of the mountain,” I said. “Then we'll see where we stand. There has to be a road down there. And Bryce must be somewhere.”
She nodded and pulled herself away from me. Then she wiped her face, pulled her goggles back on and stood up.
“Let's go then,” she said.
“All right,” I replied. “We'll have to cut back down that way. It's too steep here.”
I hopped back a few steps and looked at the drop in. “We'll get some good speed here.” I looked out across the slope. “So cut that way. It looks less wooded. We can't be that high up any longer. We should be able to get down in the next hour.”
“That long?”
“I don't know,” I replied. “Once we get off this ridge, try to stay beside me.” She looked like she was going to say something sarcastic and then decided against it.
I got myself to a spot where it looked safe to drop in.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Ready,” Hope replied. I was about to jump up to clear the edge and start down the slope when I heard someone yelling.
“Help, help! He has a gun!”
I could just make out Dave popping over the edge of the slope above the woods. He was moving extremely fast.
“Duck,” I said to Hope.
“Why?”
“Someone has a gun.” A second later, Sam flew over the edge, tucking down toward Dave.
“That's Sam,” Hope said. “And it looks like he's chasing Dave!”
“Wait until they get closer,” I said. “Then we're going to follow them.”
Dave was screaming. He was also snowboarding better than I had ever seen him snowboard before. Fear will do that to you, I guess. But Sam was better. Sam was better than all of us.
“Why would Sam be chasing him with a gun?” Hope asked. As they passed beneath us, I could see the gun in Sam's hand. “Okay, let's go,” I said. I jumped as high as I could, shot myself forward and out and landed cleanly on the ridge. I took one quick backward glance to make certain that Hope had made it before dropping into a tuck and following Sam's trail. The mountain was fairly openâespecially after the avalanche had flattened everything in its path. I was following their trail, but Sam and Dave would pop up on a ridge now and then. Dave seemed to be boarding all over the place. Cutting from side to side, then going straight down. Like he expected Sam to fire a bullet at him. He was screaming as well. His voice echoed off the peaks around us.