Thirty minutes before sundown, they completed digging and packing their shelter in the snow. With the tarp secured over it, Ryan could only hope it would be enough to shelter them from the cold. He"d watched enough survival shows to know how to navigate down a snowy mountain, and he knew the best way to live through an avalanche, but he"d be d.a.m.ned if he could recall an episode that taught him how to fend off man-eating h.e.l.lions in knee-deep powder.
Those things continued to prowl just beyond the tree line, their shadows seemingly more active as the daylight bled dark. It made him nervous, because in this worst-case scenario, there couldn"t be anything more disastrous than those creatures sneaking up on them after dark. The possibility of an ambush made his hair follicles tingle.
Jane sat on top of a tightly packed lump of snow she had created for herself-a lookout, of sorts. Sawyer and Oona were next to her, Sawyer not having spoken in the past few hours. Jane tried to get Sawyer to drink some Diet c.o.ke from their inadequate stash of food. She fumbled with a cellophane pack of stale saltines, trying to tear them open with her teeth without pulling off her gloves. Eventually getting the packaging open, she fed Sawyer a cracker while he remained bundled and motionless under the quilt.
With the sky a pale purple, Ryan unloaded a good amount of gear from the wicker basket atop Jane"s board, dumping spare pool cues and torches into their shelter before turning his attention to his sister and best friend. It was time to move Sawyer into the den.
Ryan pulled Sawyer as close as possible to the snow shelter before both he and Jane hefted him up, their shoulders beneath his arms. Sawyer tried to brave the movement without a sound, but he couldn"t help crying out when they lowered him into the hole in the hard-packed snow. Oona and Jane followed him inside a moment later.
"Stay here with him," Ryan told her, tying the leash of the supply board around his belt loop. If they were going to make it through the night, they needed fire.
"Where are you going?" As soon as she saw him preparing for another trek, Jane instinctively crawled out of the shelter and back into the snow. It crunched beneath her. The sun, however slight, had melted it enough so that it refroze into a brittle glittering crust. Ryan motioned toward the trees as he plucked up his torch.
"Wood," he said. "Stay in there." He nodded at their makeshift shelter. "The more people inside, the warmer it"ll be."
"But what about you?" she asked. "You can"t go out there alone. What if they come back?"
What if they had learned? The idea of it made his mouth taste acrid, his fear breeding a sharp, metallic taste. But he refused to let those kinds of thoughts dictate his movements. They were out of options, and showing weakness now would send Jane over the edge.
"I"ve fought them off before," Ryan said, emptying most of their supplies onto the snow. He"d need room for firewood and Jane would need weapons in case she and Sawyer were the ones attacked. But Jane wasn"t satisfied with his answer. She shook her head, resolute.
"Oona will warm the place up. I"m coming with you."
"No, you aren"t."
"Why not?" she demanded. "This is insane. It"s like splitting up in the movies. n.o.body comes back alive after splitting up; you know that."
"Jane." He gave her a steady look. "I"m just going to be over there." He pointed to the trees in the distance. He knew they were farther away than they looked, but he didn"t mention it. "You can watch me if you want to, but I need you to stay with Sawyer, okay? We can"t leave him alone. Try to get him to eat some more crackers. He needs to keep his strength up."
Jane gave in, nodding with a frown. "Fine," she told him. "Just be careful."
Ryan began to slog through the snow. The closer he got to the wall of pine, the more nervous he felt. The trees they had left in their wake were the closest to their camp, but those were the trees where Ryan had seen the shadows shift. There was another thicket to the north, close enough to walk to in five or ten minutes on a warm summer afternoon, but trying for them now would eat up the last dregs of daylight.
With only a few yards left between him and the pines, he couldn"t help but think that maybe he was wrong. Maybe those things weren"t waiting for nightfall after all, but for this exact moment; for Jane and Ryan to split up, for one of them to come close enough to the forest to be pulled into the branches. He swallowed against the thudding in his throat, forcing himself to continue forward with a torch held over his head, the ax handle sticking out of his backpack, the wicker basket skidding across the top of the snow behind him. Finally reaching a tree on the outermost rim of the woods, he slid his backpack from his shoulders and grabbed the hatchet. But there was no way he could chop at the tree one-handed. Daylight was dwindling. He had to be quick. Chewing on his bottom lip, he scanned the trunks and branches ahead of him, waiting for one of those creatures to launch itself at him before he could think to defend himself.
It was deathly silent.
He didn"t hear any throaty growls or mournful moans.
Only the wail of the wind.
Slowly leaning down, he stabbed his torch into the snow a few feet away from where he stood, hoping like h.e.l.l that he"d have enough time to retrieve it if he needed to.
The ax in both hands now, he took a swing at the low-hanging branch of a sickly looking tree. He didn"t know whether live wood would burn, so he went for the conifer that looked the least healthy, hoping that the inside of its branches would be dry enough to catch a spark. The tree shuddered beneath the hit, and snow fell to the ground not just from that limb, but from the branches overhead as well. He swung again. After two more attempts, the bough released its grip on the trunk and fell to the ground. As he pulled it to the basket, it left a delicate brushstroke across the snow.
He went for a bigger branch next. There were smaller ones he could have worked on first, but he had to get back to Sawyer and Jane. Deep indigo was bleeding into the lavender sky. The shifting color of the clouds was making Ryan nervous. The sun was setting faster than he had antic.i.p.ated. The second branch came down after five solid swings, then joined its brother on the board. Tackling the third branch-this one even larger than the second-he told himself this would be the last. As soon as he cut it down, he would turn tail and book it back to the shelter. The tree shuddered as he tried to lop the bough loose, shaking snow onto the ground from a good eight feet up. It began to sag beneath its own weight, the spot where the ax blade struck exposing virgin wood. His final swing brought a thud of snowfall onto his head. He stumbled backward as ice flakes bit into the back of his neck, swiping at the collar of his jacket, trying to dust away as much of it as he could before it melted down his back. And then he grabbed the end of the large branch he"d just conquered, turned to pull it toward the supply board, only to stop short.
The snow hadn"t just gotten the back of his neck.
It had gotten his torch as well.
Jane tried to feed Sawyer another cracker, but he shook his head faintly and ducked farther beneath his blanket. "I just want to sleep," he croaked dryly. Eventually, she let him rest, turning her back to him to peek her head out from beneath the tarp and watch her brother from a distance.
The white landscape had settled into a cold, pale blue-the only spots of brightness the torch that burned next to her, and the torch that burned three hundred feet away. She coiled her arms around herself and listened to the whap of metal against wood, each strike echoing around them like the gunshots she"d heard that very morning. She never understood why snow seemed to make the world go silent. It was haunting, the way all sound seemed to be erased from the world.
Jane imagined Lauren sitting next to her right then, a.s.suring her that things were going to be all right, that they would be more than all right, because after they made it out of this they"d get millions for their story. They"d be on TV. They"d write a book. And then, of course, there would be a movie. Both she and Jane would attend the premiere wearing gowns worth more than Lauren"s car while mingling with the likes of Brad Pitt and George Clooney-Lauren"s two favorite actors. "George Clooney," she had once said. "Now there"s a man who"s money I wouldn"t mind spending." Jane smiled to herself as Lauren planned her phantom future inside her head. Lauren always had a way of looking at the positive side of things, always had a way of reaching out and grabbing life by the horns. She had been full of life and pa.s.sion; funny and gorgeous and smart, so much that she had caught Ryan"s attention. His laughter had been a little freer around her, his smile a little more soulful.
Rocked by the memory of her best friend-a face she"d never see again-Jane pressed her gloved hand onto the scarf that was covering her mouth and nose, trying to stifle the sob that inevitably tore itself from her chest. This can"t get worse, she thought. With Lauren and April gone and Sawyer injured, things couldn"t possibly get more grim. She attempted to squelch her tears, reminding herself that Ryan needed her to keep it together. Wiping at her eyes, she looked up just as Ryan took his final swing.
And then the snow fell.
Ryan"s torch went out.
She saw a shadow shift, and suddenly she couldn"t swallow or breathe.
She clawed the scarf away from her face, opening her mouth to scream, scrambling out of the snow shelter before stumbling toward him. Despite their distance, she saw the very moment realization dawned on him. He caught sight of her and stared. She blinked when she realized that in her panic, she had left her source of fire behind with Sawyer. Her torch burned just beyond the bloodied blue tarp, stabbed into the snow.
"Go back!" he screamed, tossing the ax into the basket before s.n.a.t.c.hing his torch up off the ground. He had left the gas can with Jane, but he had April"s hair spray somewhere beneath those boughs. Tearing his right glove off with his teeth, he shoved his hand into his pocket, his fingers curling around Sawyer"s old lighter. His eyes darted to the tree line as he jammed his arm elbow-deep into the sappy needles atop Jane"s s...o...b..ard, feeling around the basket"s bottom for the can he knew was there.
Jane screamed.
He whirled around, his head throbbing with the whoosh of his own pulse. He was sure he was about to see his worst nightmare come to fruition, that Jane"s scream was attached to a scene that he"d never forget-whether he lived fifty years or fifty seconds-but when he spotted her in the distance, he blinked in bewilderment. Thank G.o.d, he thought, because she was safe in the clearing. Nothing was coming at her, nothing was about to cut her down. But she continued to scream anyway, her words indiscernible, her arms waving every which way. Ryan veered around to look ahead.
The beast towered over him, standing on its hind legs, its impossibly wide jaws pulled back in what looked like a nefarious smile. To Ryan"s horror, he found himself staring at an oozing lesion just above those ma.s.sive teeth, one of its eyes all but burned away.
Ryan jammed his arm into the basket again, desperately groping for the aerosol can. His gloveless hand tried to spark a flame from Sawyer"s lighter as he continued his frantic search, but the demon had learned its lesson. Rather than giving Ryan time to arm himself, it crouched low in the snow and sprang forward within a blink. Ryan hit the ground, feeling like he"d just been punched in the chest. Behind him, Jane continued to scream. The creature emitted a gut-wrenching squeal, as if trying to speak, trying to tell him, "An eye for an eye." Ryan scrambled to his feet, but his right hand came up empty.
The lighter was gone, somewhere under the snow, knocked out of his grasp.
At that precise moment, Ryan was a boy again. He stood in those very hills, the snow having melted away. A young Jane and Sawyer laughed next to him, the three of them running through a prairie of dandelions and wild gra.s.s. The peaks of distant Colorado mountains stood out against a bright blue sky, still capped with snow despite the sun that warmed their skin. Jane took both of their hands between her own, swinging them back and forth as she skipped across the prairie, her laugh like the tinkle of tiny silver bells. She turned to look at him, her eyes full of childhood wonder, but her expression eroded right before his eyes-shifted from joy to utter horror as her smile twisted into an O. Her eyes went saucer round as she drifted away from him, pulled back by an invisible hand. The bright green of spring browned and turned to ash. To ice. To snow. And in the distance, she screamed. And screamed. And screamed.
The creature lunged again, its gangly arms swinging ahead of it, its claws slashing through the air. Ryan felt a surge of heat light up his shoulder as he threw himself at Jane"s board, grabbing the first thing that fell into his hand. He swung the cloth-wrapped table leg at his aggressor, connecting with the savage"s stomach. The thing scrambled backward, trying to regain its bearings.
It was Ryan"s turn to not give it a chance.
Flipping the torch so that the padded end was in his grasp, Ryan charged forward, holding the table leg out in front of him like a battering ram. It connected with the creature"s ribs. The thing gave an ear-piercing screech in response, its teeth snapping wildly, and again Ryan moved, jamming the end of his torch into the parasite"s jaws as hard as he could.
The monster flailed its arms about its head, trying to wrap its talons around the thing in its mouth. Ryan twisted in the snow while it struggled, his shoulder throbbing beneath the padding of his coat, a sweater, a couple of shirts. He yanked the glove off his left hand, tossing it in the basket with its mate, before grabbing the ax from a bed of pine. The creature threw itself onto the ground, thrashing as it choked on the broken piece of furniture rammed down its throat. It tossed its head from side to side, the torch whizzing through the air like some broken, unhinged metronome. With the hatchet"s blade balanced above his shoulder, Ryan tried to time his attack just right. The fiend threw its head to the side, its black eyes locking on Ryan as he approached. He sprang forward, jamming his foot on top of the torch that was still jammed between the monster"s teeth, putting all his weight into holding it and the creature"s head firmly in place. And then he reeled back and swung.
The ax blade sank into the beast"s neck, a crimson spray arching upward, atomizing foul-scented blood across an otherwise flawless expanse of white. Ryan shot a glance behind him, his chest heaving, his shoulder burning beneath his coat. Jane was bounding toward him, choking on her sobs as she exerted herself, her torch blazing over her head like a beacon of hope. She slowed. Her eyes went wide. Ryan knew exactly what he"d find when he looked up again-more of them-but there was no time for fear.
"Come on, come on," he told her, waving her forward. Despite the terror drawn across her face, Jane pushed ahead. Ryan grabbed the branches he"d cut, tossed them aside, and exposed the aerosol can he hadn"t been able to find. Dropping the ax into the basket, he held out his arm, trying to breach the remaining dozen feet between them as Jane struggled on.
"Throw it!" he yelled, and Jane did as she was told. They both watched their lifeline sail through the dusk, the weight of the burning end of Jane"s torch angling the flame toward the snow.
Ryan"s heart skipped a beat as their source of fire spiraled toward the ground. He bounded forward, catching it just before it hit the snow, the flame licking his exposed fingers as he readjusted his grip. And then he veered around, facing the three hissing, moaning creatures that he hadn"t bothered to look at but knew were there.
Ryan pointed the burning torch toward them and sprayed April"s hair spray in a graceful swoop. Jane yelped as a wall of flame went up around them. The savages reeled back and scrambled away.
"Oh my G.o.d," Jane gasped, and he was whirling around again, searching for another parasite to toast. "Ryan, you"re bleeding." She reached out to touch his shoulder but pulled her hand away just shy of contact. "Oh my G.o.d," she repeated, on the verge of a breakdown. "Not you too," she cried. "I can"t...not you too."
"I lost the lighter," he told her, not giving her concern a second thought-he couldn"t afford to. First aid had been the one thing he hadn"t thought to bring, and Sawyer was in far worse shape than he was. Handing her the torch, he approached the dead demon in the snow, secured a boot against the thing"s ma.s.sive head, and yanked the table leg from its jaws. He held it up to Jane"s fire, waiting for it to catch. When it did, he turned back to the carca.s.s in front of him, sprayed the thing with aerosol, and lit up the dead.
Ryan jerked awake with such a start he made both Jane and Oona jump. Jane stared at her brother as he patted himself down, his expression a strange mix of fascination and disbelief. She had worried that he would lose too much blood throughout the night, that he"d slip away from her when she succ.u.mbed to exhaustion, but he had insisted whatever damage had been done to his shoulder wasn"t that big a deal. Compared to Sawyer"s injury, it was little more than a scratch. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he was scrambling out of their shelter, shoving a corner of the tarp aside. Jane shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun, the snow sparkling around her like diamond dust. Ryan"s plan had worked-the small bonfires he"d built around the opening to their shelter had kept those things at bay. They had survived the night.
Oona scrambled out after him, immediately up to her haunches in the drift. Jane moved only when she heard Ryan laughing. Crawling into the sun, she squinted up at him.
"Look!" he said, presenting a breathtaking wonderland of white as though it was hers for the taking. "It"s the f.u.c.king sky." And so it was, blue and enormous with a few fluffy clouds drifting across. She grinned as Ryan laughed up at it like a lunatic. They weren"t home free yet, but the feeling was mutual: it was hope. The clouds had burned away. The wind was gone. It was a perfect day.
"Thank you!" he screamed up at the sun, spinning around to look at her a moment later. The expression on his face was enough to a.s.sure her that they had made it. It was over. Just as abruptly as the nightmare had started, it was gone.
"Tom, look!" Jane twisted around to face Sawyer, unable to keep Ryan"s joyous laughter from creeping into her tone. Sawyer was huddled beneath his quilt, his head bowed, nothing but the top of his hat visible.
She blinked when he didn"t move. Her smile faded. Her heart squeezed itself into a fist.
"Tom?"
Nothing.
Her breath hitched in her throat. Her face went hot.
Ryan was singing something as Oona barked, but for Jane, all sound was m.u.f.fled. They sounded like they were underwater as she slowly sank down next to Sawyer, her hands trembling as she reached out toward her mother"s old quilt. The tips of her gloves brushed across the blanket, pulling back as soon as a corner fell away, unwrapping the man huddled inside.
A sob tore from her chest when Sawyer didn"t move, but rather slowly tipped to the side, filling the s.p.a.ce where she had tried to sleep throughout the night-she and Ryan on either side of him-in an attempt to keep him warm.
Ryan blotted out the sun when he filled the entry of their shelter. At first his expression was nothing but confused, but as soon as Jane turned away from Sawyer, choking on her tears, his bewilderment was replaced with realization.
Sawyer was gone.
Ryan silently packed their gear as Jane sobbed next to him, her cries m.u.f.fled by her gloves. He had re-covered the shelter with the blue tarp, stabbing one of their torches directly in front of it to keep those creatures away. He didn"t want to think that it would go out within a matter of hours, that by nightfall, Sawyer"s body would more than likely be gone, claimed by the things that had taken Lauren, that had most certainly taken April.
"We have to go," he murmured, placing a hand on Jane"s shoulder. He couldn"t let the emotions overtake his logic, couldn"t allow the sorrow to keep them from their goal. They needed to get to the highway. They needed to walk.
It took Jane a few minutes, but eventually she rose to her feet and began to walk. She didn"t look at him. Didn"t speak.
They followed the protocol of the day before-an hour of trekking, then a break, stopping every few minutes when Oona would jump off Sawyer"s gurney and into the snow. The throb of Ryan"s shoulder had dulled to a nagging ache, and he had to constantly roll it to loosen the wounded muscles that had cramped beneath his coat. But he couldn"t help himself when he spotted something in the distance-hope filled his chest, dulled by sorrow but still burning hot. He grabbed Jane"s hand and pulled her along, motivated by his curiosity to discover whether what he was seeing was real or a mirage.
He shook his head, almost brought to tears by what unspooled before them; a beautiful black ribbon of glistening tarmac. It was the highway. They had made it.
"I can"t believe it," Ryan marveled, staring at the miracle before him. But rather than sharing in his fascination, Jane lifted her gloved hands to her face and cried.
"We were so close," she sobbed. "Just a few more hours...just a few more and he would have been okay."
He pulled her into a tight embrace, letting her weep into his jacket until she went quiet. He couldn"t allow himself to break. Not yet. They still had the challenge of spotting a car in the middle of nowhere, let alone getting that car to stop for a pair of blood-covered pedestrians. Inhaling a shaky breath, Jane pulled on the leash of their supply board and started to walk once more.
"I"m never seeing snow again." She sniffed, wiping her nose with her glove. "I"m done with mountains and boarding, okay?"
Ryan nodded faintly, his legs suddenly feeling heavier than ever as they sank into the snow. His grief was starting to poison his bloodstream. He struggled against the burn of tears against the back of his eyes, squeezing his eyes shut as they continued to march. f.u.c.king Sawyer, he thought. Just a few more hours. A few more hours and they would have made it. They would have survived this thing.
The road ahead of them was so close, yet so far away. Every step was torture. He yearned for that clear asphalt, for the ability to stomp his feet against the ground without powder sucking him down.
"We"re almost there," he said, baiting both of them to keep going.
And after a grueling half hour, they finally made it to the embankment, snow piled high where the plow had pushed it to the side of the road.
It was the most beautiful thing he"d ever seen: a rich black ribbon twisting through a white landscape. The double yellow line that followed its contour reminded him that there was color in the world, a.s.sured him that with each step they were getting closer to something he hadn"t been sure would ever come. When they finally climbed over the embankment, he stood staring at it as though it were an absolute miracle. The tarmac was a line drawn in the snow, a line that despite all logic, he was sure those creatures couldn"t cross.
Jane sank to the ground. It was as good a place to stop as any. The nearest town was more than twenty miles down the road and they had no chance of making it on foot. But that didn"t matter, because that hadn"t been the plan. This was where they"d wait until a car showed up, and when it did, Ryan would be d.a.m.ned if he"d let it pa.s.s them by. He"d jump in front of it if he had to. All he knew was that the next car going in either direction was their ride, whether the driver liked it or not.
Forty-five minutes later, Ryan"s elation had dwindled to disbelief. Not a single vehicle had pa.s.sed by, and he couldn"t help but wonder if despite the road having been cleared, somewhere down the line the transportation department had shut the d.a.m.n thing down anyway. But that didn"t make sense. People lived up here. This was the only access road to a majority of the houses in the area, and while he was sure most of them were empty, there had to be at least someone up here for skiing. The resort had been packed.
Unless the residents out here had all been attacked just as they had been.
Unless all those people were dead.
Jane"s teeth chattered as she pulled into herself for warmth. They had kept warm by walking, but now that they had nowhere to go, the chill bit through the layers of their clothing. And the fact that the sun had shifted in the sky hadn"t helped. The trees on either side of the highway cast a cold shadow over the tarmac. This part of the road had always been treacherous after a snowstorm. It caught sun early in the morning but spent the rest of the day in the shade. Ryan had watched cars fishtail on this stretch of highway a half dozen times, actually witnessing an accident a few years back when a little hatchback had caught some black ice and veered off the road.
"I don"t think anyone is coming," Jane said through chattering teeth.
"Someone will come," he told her, despite not being sure himself.
"What if they don"t?"
"They will," he insisted. "They have to."
"Why do they have to?" Jane asked weakly, looking up at him from where she sat.
He stared at her for a long moment, not sure how to answer. And then he shook his head and tried for a brave smile. "Because we"re here," he a.s.sured her. "Because we"ve made it this far."
Jane couldn"t see him anymore, but she knew he was close. Ryan had wanted to keep walking, but she was exhausted. Her legs felt like they were on fire. The cold had cut through her boots; she couldn"t feel her toes. Ryan had relented, pacing up and down that stretch of highway, waiting for a car to come. Jane remained where she was, holding on to Oona.
She was starting to doubt the reality of that highway entirely, wondering whether it was just a figment of their imagination. It seemed altogether possible that after a day of walking and a night in the snow, after losing April and Lauren and finally Sawyer, they"d both lost their minds, and now they were standing in the middle of a snow-covered field, waiting for a car to come when there was no road at all. She leaned forward enough to press her gloved hand to the frozen asphalt, making sure it was actually there. When she was satisfied she wasn"t dreaming, she sighed and leaned back against the embankment, trying to imagine herself somewhere else.
If they got out of here, she was pulling all of her savings out of her account and going to the Maldives. She"d buy herself a tiny bikini-the kind that made everyone do a double take-and rent a little hut out over clear turquoise water so transparent that she could watch tropical fish of all colors of the rainbow lazily drift beneath her feet. She"d get Ryan to go with her, convince him to forget the Alps and move to the tropics. He"d give up s...o...b..arding and take up surfing instead, and neither one of them would see snow ever again.
Just then Oona raised her head, her ears perking. Jane glanced toward the road, listening for the rumble of an engine. She didn"t hear anything, but Oona was insistent. She tried to pull away from Jane"s grasp, but Jane refused to let go of her collar.
"Stop," she said, tugging the dog backward as she got to her feet. Her heart thudded in her chest when she saw Ryan bolt into view.
"Get the torches," he yelled at her. As soon as his demand set in, Jane"s body went numb. It couldn"t be. This was supposed to be over. She stood frozen in place as Ryan bounded toward her, skidding to a stop with a look of disbelief. She couldn"t decide whether he was surprised by what was happening, or flabbergasted by her lack of movement. Jane yelped when Oona gave her arm another jerk. The husky took off, but rather than heading for the open road, she ran for the pines just shy of where they had come from instead.
Jane"s throat went dry. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. She looked to Ryan, but he was in another world; his expression had blanched, as though coming to a final, irrefutable conclusion. With the sun shining brightly overhead, they had felt safe. Those things had only come out in the gray of the storm and under the cover of night. Jane and Ryan had never actually discussed it, but she was sure they both a.s.sumed those creatures couldn"t come out into the sun-like vampires, trapped in the shadows forever. It had been an a.s.sumption made against all logic, without a shred of solid evidence; it had been something to cling to when the sun had finally come out to warm their skin. In their elation of finally reaching the highway and sun warming the frozen ground, they had let the torches burn out, forgetting one tiny detail: Sawyer"s lighter had been lost.
A sob stifled her breathing. How could they have been so stupid? They had been so careful this entire time, only to let their guard down, only to rob themselves of the one thing they were sure those things were afraid of.
Oona snarled at something unseen as Ryan grabbed the ax. She could see it in his eyes-he was ready to come apart, unable to believe they were worse off than before, that he had made such a d.a.m.ning mistake.
"f.u.c.k!" he screamed.