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by Danika Stone


  Mrs. Shumway burst into tears, and her husband looped his arm over her shoulders. “So what do we do? How do we find which one of those trails they actually took?” he asked, voicing Janelle’s own question.

  “There’s already a search team on the ground,” the officer said. “But it’s a large area to cover, since we don’t know where they went off course. We’re assembling another volunteer force to assist in the search.”

  Janelle cleared her throat. “Then I’m going with them.”

  * * *

  The snowball fight near the top of the ridge stopped all progress. Ash lunged and dashed, evading Vale’s increasingly accurate volleys. Gusty winds blew snow back toward him, blinding Ash as he danced out of her way. At the top of the ridge, a C-shaped cornice of snow hung—a frozen wave—blocking their way. Below it, the wet, slushy snow near the top made every foothold difficult, and now that they were out of the trees, there were no handholds to catch himself when he fell.

  Ash scooped up a handful of snow and lobbed it back over his shoulder at Vale. “Stay sharp, Shumway!”

  She laughed as the snowball thudded into the snow at her feet. “Missed me! Better work on your aim.”

  “You moved! My aim’s as good as—”

  A snowball smacked Ash’s face, dusting his eyebrows white. Laughing, he clambered away from Vale, loping horizontally along the slope rather than going straight up.

  “Wait for me!” Vale called.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. She had fallen behind him in the past few seconds. They were separated by twenty feet or more, a line of footsteps linking the two of them like a chain. Ash’s feet slowed. “All right, but—” A snowball smacked him in the leg. “Oh, you sneaky bastard!”

  “Get ready!” she laughed. “Secondary attack starts … NOW!”

  Another snowball followed the first, and Ash pushed himself into a half jog, whooping and laughing. “I’m outta here.”

  “Slow down!” Vale yelled. “You can’t ditch me!”

  “There are no rules in”—a white projectile appeared in his peripheral vision, and he dodged it at the last second—“a snowball fight!” He picked up another handful of snow, tossing it back. “Cheater!”

  “Slow down!”

  “No way!”

  “Ash, come ON! That’s not FAIR!”

  Ash took a few steps up the snowy drift, slid, and fell. Another snowball hit his shoulder. Laughing, he lobbed one back in return. The snow was up to his knees now, growing deeper with each step. The drift over the rock was a treacherous combination. He got four steps, then slipped again, jarring his knees as he went down. He tried again and again. Each time he fell, he caught himself, until his hands were numbed from the cold.

  “Seriously!” Vale called. “I really can’t keep up!”

  Ash glanced back to discover Vale was nearly at his side. “Liar!” He laughed. Another ball hit him in the back, spraying up his neck. “You’re fricking lethal, Vale!” He palmed a handful of snow and threw it in a high arc that swung up for a long moment, then came down on her head.

  Hoots followed his words. “Oh, I’m gonna get you for that!” Vale grabbed a handful of compacted snow and pulled one leg back, aimed, and released.

  With a shriek, Ash jumped to avoid the snowball. His feet hit a crust of snow—causing the surface to shift—at the same time as his voice boomed outward. “NO!” The sound echoed up the slope like a drum, only it didn’t fade away. It grew louder.

  Both Ash and Vale turned in shock as above them, a slab of snow the size of a car cracked away from the overhang and began to slide toward them.

  “Avalanche!” Vale screamed. “Run!”

  They were on an open slope. There were no trees. The snowslide was almost entirely above them. A single thought shot through Ash’s mind.

  We’re going to die when that hits us.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “We’re gonna die, you know.”

  “Maybe. But if we die, we’re gonna die walking.”

  ROBERTO CANESSA AND NANDO PARRADO, ALIVE

  THE TEENS STARED in horror at the massive slab of snow tumbling toward them. A primitive part of Ash’s brain pushed him to run before he’d consciously thought to do it. Vale was already in motion, ten steps ahead of him. She stumbled and caught herself in the knee-deep snow, then ran again, heading straight back along the path they’d just cleared, Ash close on her heels. The ground rumbled as the slide neared. He didn’t look back—didn’t dare!—just pushed himself as fast as humanly possible.

  When Ash was playing a video game, there were moments when he lost himself in the action. Time slowed. His mind expanded. In those moments, he was swept away by the sheer exhilaration of the competition, caught up by the adrenaline that surged through him as he worked through an online campaign, one challenge, one fight after the other. With the avalanche rumbling toward him, he caught onto the same degree of clarity. His thighs ached as he forced his way through the deep snow, one footstep after another after another. He didn’t slip. Didn’t hesitate. There’s no time. Each movement was perfect. Each footstep orchestrated to get him out of the way. Vale, however, was losing speed.

  Her legs are too short, Ash thought. She’s not gonna make it.

  Reaching her side, Ash grabbed hold of Vale’s arm and dragged her forward. Faster … faster…, his mind chanted. Vale stumbled, and he jerked her back up. He let go of her elbow to grab her hand. The first pebbles of snow pelted the backs of their legs. Ash sprinted forward, dragging Vale with him. The snow became a churning mire around their legs, pulling, tugging, trying to knock them down. The ground began to move!

  Behind them, a sound as loud as a freight train roared past.

  And then … silence.

  Ash and Vale didn’t stop running until they’d reached the trees. They’d covered the entire distance in less than a quarter of the time it had taken them to hike it the first time. Vale was gasping, her mouth the O of a fish out of water. Ash let go of her hand and caught himself against the trunk of a tree. He coughed and gagged.

  Holy crap, that was close!

  Ash stared back the way they’d come. The entire slope was scraped bare. The glint of brownish rocks glittered in the sunshine. He took a few steps away from the trees and looked down the slope. The trees below them had been knocked clear, the slide burrowing itself like a fist into the forest’s edge. Broken spikes of tree trunks, split like kindling, stuck out from the snow.

  A giggle of sheer panic broke free of Ash’s throat. He buckled over, holding his hands against his thighs as he laughed. “We fricking owned that!” His hoots grew louder, tears filled his eyes. “We MADE it! We survived!”

  No one answered.

  “Vale…?” He lifted his head to discover he was standing alone in the snow. A movement caught his eye. Vale was walking slowly back the way they’d just come.

  “Vale…? Vale! Where are you going?”

  She glanced back and then, strangely enough, she laughed. “The path’s wide open now.” She pointed to the rock face, scoured clear by the slide. “The snow’s gone. Let’s figure out where we are.”

  Ash jogged forward, the aftermath of the close call leaving him jittery. “Hold up!” he called. “I’m coming too. Wait for me!”

  Vale grinned and waited.

  * * *

  They stood at the top of the ridge, a hump of brown rock drying under their feet, while in the distance, the snowslide was a white footprint in the green-gray tree line. Ash stared at the phone’s screen. Please connect … please …

  “Anything yet?” Vale asked.

  Ash’s heart sank. “Still no connection.” He swore under his breath. “Hold on a sec. I’m gonna try a different place.”

  Five minutes later, he returned from the quick jaunt along the rocky ridge.

  “Any luck?”

  He shook his head, too upset to say the words aloud. We’re in Canada, for God’s sake! Why isn’t there any reception here?

 
; “Guess Ms. Holland was right about no reception,” Vale said.

  “I’m almost out of power anyhow.” Ash held down the off button—he needed the power to last until the next time he tried—then shoved the phone into his pocket. “Waste of time for us to climb all the way up here.”

  “Maybe … maybe not.”

  He looked up to discover Vale standing at the edge of the ridge, staring south. She had a compass in her hand.

  “You see something?” Ash peered down into the valley, searching. It was a rippled blanket of trees. A thin layer of snow covered the ground, growing heavier on the higher slopes. If this was a game he was playing, he’d just take off and explore, but the rules were different. Here every decision took incredible amounts of time to complete. Like game lag, but in hours rather than in seconds. Worse yet, in the mountains there were no second chances. These were their lives they were gambling with.

  “There,” Vale said, pointing. “That blue mark. What’s that?”

  Ash followed the line of her arm. A faint blue glimmer, like a jewel, was nestled in the forest at the bottom. Near it, a slightly duller blue shimmered behind a screen of pine trees. The fear disappeared in a rush of excitement.

  “It’s Twin Lakes!” Ash shouted. “That’s it! We’re almost there!” He headed down the far side of the ridge.

  “Wait! Don’t leave me behind!”

  He glanced back in confusion. “I wasn’t leaving you.”

  “Good.” She jogged to his side. “Just … don’t.”

  “I want to head down.” Ash pointed. “Those lakes must be where Ms. Holland and the others are, right? If we start now, we can be there before dinnertime.”

  Vale lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she peered into the distance. “I … I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure? You’re the one who pointed it out, Vale. It’s two lakes.”

  “Yeah, but the second one seems awfully small.” She squinted. “I’m not even sure that second bit of blue is a lake, if I’m honest about it.”

  Ash grinned. “It’s gotta be a lake!”

  “It looks like something, but I’m not sure what. At most, maybe a boggy area.”

  He started down the slope. “I say we go check it out. Then we’ll know it’s a lake.”

  “And if it’s the wrong place and it’s not Twin Lakes? What then, huh?”

  “Trust me. It’s not the wrong place.” Ash took sliding steps, dropping in elevation as he went. “It’s easy walking if we go this way,” he said. “There’s a path right through the trees.”

  “A trail?”

  “Not a real trail—no—but I can see a way to get down.” He pointed. “See that line? It’s a straight drop down to the valley.”

  “I … I’m not sure.”

  “C’mon, Vale. Just go with this. I can see two lakes down there.” Ash walked on. He was almost at the tree line when he heard Vale puffing behind him. He paused until she reached his side.

  “What if someone is looking for us?” she said.

  “Then we’ll help ’em out by finding them first.”

  She pointed through the trees. “But I only see one lake clearly. The other one might be anything at all.”

  “Doesn’t mean the other one’s not a lake too. Just means it’s smaller.” He shrugged. “Besides. If it’s the wrong lake, then we’re no worse off than we are now. Right?”

  “I … I guess so.” Vale turned to stare out at the faint blue smudges: two of them side by side. “You’re right. It’s probably two. So let’s hike down. It might not be Twin Lakes, but at least it’s south.”

  “South?”

  “Yeah. The town of Waterton is south of us. South is the direction we should be heading.” She nodded. “It’s a good idea, Ash. Let’s go.”

  A grin broke across Ash’s face, so wide and bright he seemed to shine from within. “And it’s a lake, right?” He held out his empty water bottle. “Not sure about you, but I’m thirsty.”

  “Oh man, me too.”

  “Good, then it’s settled,” he said, already hiking again. “We head down to the lake. Meet up with the class.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  As they reached the first trees of the forest, Ash looked over, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, Vale. You know how trees get onto the internet?”

  She smiled. “Uh … nope.”

  “They log on.”

  * * *

  It took them most of the afternoon to pick their way down through the trees. This side of the mountain was covered in deadfall, the remnants of a forest fire dotting the landscape with blackened spears of long-dead trees. It slowed them more than Ash wanted, and he knew if they were still walking once nightfall arrived, they’d be in the same trouble as the night before. Low-lying clouds had begun to fill the valley, the landscape growing dimmer with every passing hour.

  Thirst was Ash’s constant companion. He ate snow to stave it off, but it never entirely quenched his thirst. The lakes were still miles away. He and Vale laughed and talked, trying to lighten the situation.

  “Would you rather live an extra fifty years or stay sixteen forever but die twenty years early?” he asked.

  Vale snorted. “Neither.”

  “That’s not how the game works. You’ve got to choose.”

  “Fine. Then I choose the fifty.”

  Ash stumbled. “Even if you get all wrinkly and ancient? Have you ever seen people who live to one hundred and twenty? They’re like giant raisins.”

  Vale grinned. “That’s really mean, Ash.”

  “But it’s true!”

  She shook her head. “I’d still take the fifty extra years rather than stay young. I kind of think it’s going to be fun growing up.”

  “Huh. Really?”

  “Yeah. You get to see the future. Play with grandkids. Enjoy new technology.”

  “Whoa! Didn’t think of that,” Ash said. “All the new video games!”

  “Exactly.” Vale giggled. “My turn now: Would you rather be able to read people’s minds or influence people’s thoughts?”

  “Thoughts, definitely! I’d make ’em do what I wanted.” He dropped his voice to a robotic drone. “Vale Shumway will do all my homework for me.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like … a supervillain in the making.”

  “Oh, come on. Wouldn’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “But what’s the point in getting into people’s heads, then? I mean, why just hear what they’re thinking? Why not change it instead?”

  “I guess I kind of wish I knew where I stood with some people.”

  Ash was quiet for a moment, remembering the relentless teasing Vale experienced at school and the online harassment that had ended several happy years of their gaming together. “I guess that makes sense.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “All right. Next question.”

  “Would you rather be trapped in an avalanche or…?” He gave her a devilish smile. “Crushed by REGRETS?”

  “Trapped in an avalanche,” she said, then began to laugh. “No! NO! Switching my answer. Crushed by regrets. Less chance of death.”

  “Nice one.” He grinned. “That was a trick question, you know.”

  “I know, Ash. I know.”

  The wind picked up midday, and their laughter faded. Soon they were walking in silence again. With each minute that passed an uneasy feeling—like a stone—grew deep in Ash’s gut. When they passed the midway point on the treed slope—but still hadn’t seen an actual trail—he knew Vale had been right all along. The first lake twinkled like a sapphire. The second was little more than a marsh, full of cattails. The patch was fed by the lake they’d seen from above. That single lake was completely alone. Lost, just like the two of them.

  Another hour of hiking took them to its shores. The wind sent icy spatters of sleet onto his head, but Ash was so thirsty, he hardly noticed. He fell to his knees and dug his water bottle out of his p
ack. It had been empty for hours, and his tongue felt thick and woolen with thirst. He pulled off the lid and dunked it under the water.

  “Do you think it’s safe to drink the water?” Vale said warily.

  “I’m going to take my chances.” He lifted the bottle to his lips. It was filled to the brim with lake water, bits of flotsam swirling in the bottom, but he chugged it down without a second thought. The icy water sluiced down his throat, quenching his thirst. His teeth ached from the cold. Ash didn’t care. He filled it a second time, drinking in greedy gulps.

  He set the bottle down to find Vale watching. “What’s up?”

  She stubbed her toe on the ground. “Does it taste okay?”

  He shrugged. “Tastes fine to me.” Vale shifted foot to foot while Ash took one last drink and tipped his head back. “Ahhhh! So good.” He double-checked that the lid was on and put the refilled bottle into his backpack.

  Vale unzipped her pack and pulled out her own canteen, crouching down at the water’s edge. “I’ll risk diarrhea over dying of thirst.”

  Ash broke into raucous laughter. “That’s fricking disgusting!”

  “Not as disgusting as getting beaver fever and not having toilet paper to deal with the runs. My dad picked up giardia on one of our camping trips. He had stomach issues for weeks. It really sucks.”

 

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