Vegas Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  Harry felt his first moment of panic as he pushed his chair aside. The chair meant safety, and he was giving it up. He wondered how long it would take for the drifts to cover it. He could feel his heart take on an extra beat. The snow would obliterate all traces of them. He was on his own now, as was Sunny. Don’t think, he cautioned himself. Just do what Sunny’s doing. The barn’s in sight. You can do this. You will do this because you are capable of doing it. Oh, yeah, in water. This was snow. Thick, heavy snow. Deadly snow. He risked a glance backward for one last look at his and Sunny’s wheelchairs. He couldn’t see them.

  “How much farther?” he shouted.

  “I don’t know,” Sunny shouted back. “I told you not to look. Just keep moving forward. You lose momentum if you stop.”

  She was right. Sunny was always right. He flopped forward with all the strength he could muster. His face came down on the heel of Sunny’s boots. Stars ricocheted inside his head. Had he broken his nose? He felt something warm on his upper lip. Blood, he surmised. He brushed at it with the sleeve of his jacket before he gave another violent surge forward. He repeated his efforts until he was dizzy. He didn’t stop. He knew instinctively if he stopped, he’d never move again. He wanted to scream, to bellow, how much farther, when Sunny gasped. “Just a few more feet, Harry. I can see the barn door. Don’t stop.”

  Every bone in his slender body protesting, Harry sidled up next to Sunny. “We made it, thanks to you.”

  “No, Harry. You did the first half. I did the second half. You sound funny. What’s wrong?”

  “I think I broke my nose.”

  “In the snow?” Suddenly she started to laugh. “That’s the funniest thing I ever heard. We have to make sure we log that ditty in when we get back to the center. Listen. We have to figure out how we’re going to open the door. If you cup your hands together and if you think you can hold my weight, I can put my knees in your hands. I should be able to open the door that way. Closing it might present a problem. Don’t worry if I fall. I’ll land in the snow.”

  “The door’s on hinges. It swings shut by itself. I noticed that the other day. Okay, climb on.”

  Her hands on Harry’s shoulders, Sunny pulled herself closer. Harry reached for her waist to help her into the deep well he made with his arms. He almost fainted when he heard the door swing open. Together they rolled over and over until they were on the dry concrete inside the barn. The huge door closed with a loud bang.

  Safe.

  Both lay quietly on the concrete, their breathing rapid and coarse-sounding.

  “It’s dark as hell in here,” Sunny said a long time later. “There is a lantern on each post. I saw them the first day we were here. We’ll have to do the knee thing again, but first I have to get my bearings. How many times did we roll over?”

  “Four I think.”

  “That means one of the poles should be off to my right. Light a match. We can’t afford to use up all my energy. I don’t mind telling you I’m going to need some time to rest before we go out on those snowmobiles.”

  “We’ll eat one of the candy bars and one of the oranges. That will fix our blood sugar. We’ll save the rest. How are your battery packs?”

  “My feet are still warm. The ones inside my gloves are okay, too. We probably have two more hours on each pack. We got here, Harry! Isn’t it amazing? How’s your nose?”

  “It hurts like hell. I’m not going to worry about it. When we get out in the snow, it’ll probably freeze up. Okay, look quick because the match is probably going to go out since it’s drafty in here.”

  “Okay, I see it. Five rollovers should do it. Harry!”

  “What?”

  “We left our gear in the wheelchair pockets. The only thing I have on me is the battery packs and the candy bars. You have the oranges and your battery packs. You do, don’t you?”

  “Just the oranges and the packs. We left them behind? How could I have been so stupid?”

  “It was easy. I didn’t think about it either, so that makes both of us stupid. We can stay here and not take the machines out. Someone will come and get us in the morning. How many matches do you have left?”

  “A whole pack.”

  “I’m going to roll over; follow me and count. Five rolls straight across and then two down in a straight line. I’ll probably smack right into it.”

  Twenty minutes later there was light in the barn. The matchbook held only three matches thanks to the draft in the barn. Sunny and Harry huddled close, with their backs to the pole holding the lantern.

  “I think, Harry, a twenty-minute catnap would be a good idea. You sleep first, and I’ll watch the lantern. After I wake up, we’ll eat the orange and the candy bar. After we do that we’ll decide if we want to finish what we started. We need the rest. We got this far, Harry, and we took care of ourselves. It’s a dumb thing we’re doing to other people but not us. We panicked back there. One of the most important things they taught us was not to panic. So what do we do? We panic. That’s not going to happen again. I’ll wake you in twenty minutes. The sound of the wind is hypnotic. When we lived on Sunrise, I prayed for wind to rock across the mountain.”

  Sunny looked down at Harry. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. She herself was exhausted but she wasn’t so tired she would fall asleep on her watch. She spent the time humming a lullaby Jake loved when he was a baby. Her gaze swiveled around the cavernous barn. Storage cabinets were everywhere. They probably held blankets, flashlights, and all the things they’d left behind in their wheelchairs. She could use up the twenty minutes rolling and sliding around to get what they needed if Harry still wanted to go out on the snowmobiles.

  Prodding, picking, and poking, Sunny tossed flashlights, crackers, matches, a bottle of brandy, a small first-aid kit with a snow-white cross on the front and two tightly folded blankets. As an afterthought she threw a third blanket and a second package of graham crackers onto the pile. She eyed her treasure. She was about to close the cabinet when she saw the neat row of green-and-red portable shovels. She tossed two of them on top of the blankets. Opening her jacket, she stuffed as much as she could inside and zipped up the jacket. She slid on her rear end back to where Harry was sleeping. She piled everything neatly to the side before she rear-ended her way back for the rest of the things.

  Eight minutes until it was time to wake Harry. Sunny spent the time staring at the long line of snowmobiles. She knew there was something wrong, but she didn’t know what it was. Then it hit her. The machines were on a track. The same kind of track used at carwashes. Electric tracks. “Shit!” she said succinctly. Now what were they going to do?

  Sunny rolled over and over until she came to a stop by the line of snowmobiles. Maybe there was a generator somewhere. They had generators on Sunrise and at Babylon. Her father had shown her how to use them. “You turn on the switch, Sunny.” She giggled. It was that simple. Where was it? She fished around in the pocket of her ski jacket for one of the packs of matches. Cupping her hands, she managed to get a five-second look before the match went out. The generator was right where it was supposed to be; at the far left of the last snowmobile on the track. Two switches. A black one and a red one. She surmised that since the track ran under the barn door, one switch must be for the track and the other one must be for the door.

  Rolling over twice, Sunny was able to see into the snowmobile. Some were two-seaters. Others were single. A double was the first in line. The second was a single. Harry could take the double and the gear. If they decided to go ahead with their plan.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Sunny shouted as she rolled her way over next to Harry.

  Harry bolted awake. “Is it still snowing?”

  “The wind is shrieking. It’s hard to see through the windows. My guess would be yes, and harder than before. Look what I found, Harry. I also discovered another problem but I also solved it. The snowmobiles are on a track like they have at carwashes. That means it’s electric. However, there is a generator, and guess
who knows how it operates. Me. You ponder all this while I take my nap. Whatever you decide will be all right with me. How’s you nose?”

  “It hurts like the devil.”

  “Roll over by the door and scoop up some snow and make a snowball. Hold it on your nose for a while. The snowmobiles are on a track that leads to that far door, not the door we came in. I can see the snow on the floor from here. Don’t forget to wake me up, Harry.”

  A second later Sunny was asleep, sliding down the mountain with Jake and Polly in front of her on an oversize sled, her father behind her in a fat black inner tube.

  “Are we going faster than the wind, Mama?” Jake asked, clutching her arm with all the strength in his small body.

  “We sure are. Look at Pop Pop. He’s laughing so hard he’s going to fall out of that tube,” Sunny squealed.

  “More, more, more,” Polly chortled.

  “Can we do it again, Mama?”

  “Sure. As many times as you want.”

  “Will we always do this? Will your bad leg get to be a good leg again?”

  “I don’t think so, Jake. Next year Chue will do this with you.”

  “Will you be sad, Mama? Will you cry?”

  “I might be a little sad, Jake. I’ll smile when I see you on your sled with Chue. If you’re happy, Mama will be happy.”

  “Will you always be happy, Mama?”

  “I hope so, Jake.”

  “I like to hear Pop Pop laugh. Do you like to hear him laugh, Mama?”

  “I love to hear Pop Pop laugh. When I hear you laugh I feel happy. I don’t want you ever to be sad. Sometimes things happen, and they make us sad. We wear a sad face for a little while, but then we have to put on our happy face and get on with the business of living. You know, make the beds, cook, do the dishes, the laundry, pick up toys, things like that.”

  “I like the snow. I like it better than swimming.”

  “I do too. When I was a little girl, I played in the snow all the time. Do you want to make snow angels when Chue drives us up the mountain? Pop Pop looks tired, so maybe we should make our snow angels and go inside for cocoa. You can put the marshmallows in the cups. Okay? What are you doing, Jake?”

  Jake squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m making a wish. Wishes are good, aren’t they, Mama?”

  “Wishes are very good, Jake. What did you wish for?”

  “I made two wishes. I wished that Pop Pop would never go away, and I wished your bad legs get good so you can play in the snow. Is that a sad wish or a happy wish?”

  “It’s a happy wish,” Sunny said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Will my wishes come true, Mama?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “Sunny, wake up.”

  “Are the twenty minutes up already? Did anything happen?”

  “I peeled the orange and opened the candy bar. I did the snowball thing, and my nose feels a little better. Were you dreaming?”

  Sunny reached for her half of the orange. “I was dreaming about the last time I took Jake and Polly sled riding down the mountain. My father died the next year, and we never got to go again. Chue would bring us back up the hill in the truck. Jake made a wish that day that I would get to play in the snow again. I wonder if that dream was an omen or something.”

  “We were talking about Jake and Polly earlier. You dreamed about them because they were on your mind. This is a good orange. Here’s the candy. I’ve been thinking. I think we should replace our battery packs now. We’ve used up quite a bit of time on the ones we’re wearing. If we’re going, let’s start fresh. What did you decide?”

  “We came out here to play in the snow. So, let’s go out and play. We’ll take the snowmobiles out and ride them for a little while and come back. The barn seems colder to me, so that must mean the temperature is dropping. We’ll go in a straight line and turn around at some point and follow the tracks back. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds okay. Have you given any thought to how we’ll get back to the lodge?”

  “I say we drive the snowmobiles right to the front door.”

  “That’s a great idea, Sunny.”

  They were children then as they packed up their orange peels and candy wrappers, stuffing them in their pockets. The battery packs were opened and changed. They were suited up and in the snowmobiles twenty-five minutes later.

  Hard, driving wind slammed into them as the snowmobiles slid off the track and onto the snow. If the door made a noise when it closed, neither one heard it. In the lead, Harry turned on his light, Sunny followed suit. It seemed to Sunny that Harry catapulted ahead of her into the swirling snow. She panicked when she lost sight of his headlight. She opened her mouth to shout for him to slow down, but her mouth filled with snow. She clamped her lips shut and increased the speed on her machine until she was directly behind Harry, whose machine had a high-pitched whine that irritated her. Her own machine sounded sluggish and definitely wasn’t performing the way Harry’s was. When she started to fall farther behind, she sounded the horn. Harry turned his machine and headed toward her, his headlight blinding her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. The engine doesn’t sound like yours. You were so far ahead of me I was afraid I’d lose you.”

  “Check the gas.”

  “Give me one of your flashlights. God, Harry, it’s on E. Check yours.”

  “I have half a tank. Come on, get in this one. Push the stuff on the floor. Hold my arm, and I’ll boost you over the side. Hang on now. Maybe it’s better we’re together anyway. Ten more minutes and we’ll head back.”

  “Can you see better with or without the light?”

  “It’s an either or. I think I’ll turn it off. Buckle up, and let’s go!”

  “Don’t go too fast, Harry. We don’t have any visibility. You could hit a tree or an outcropping of some kind.” There was pure fright in Sunny’s voice when she said, “Harry, I can’t see my snowmobile.”

  “It’s right there, Sunny. The snow can’t have drifted that quickly.”

  “It did, Harry. Can you see the tracks?” To make her point, Sunny flashed the light she was holding. “They’re gone, Harry. The tracks are gone!”

  “They can’t be gone. Five minutes haven’t passed. You aren’t shining the light in the right place, Sunny.”

  “Then you try it, Harry.” Sunny cringed, hating the fear she was hearing in Harry’s voice.

  The beam on the powerful flashlight arced to the right and left. All that they could see was swirling snow that drifted as fast as it hit the ground. All signs of the snowmobile and the tracks both machines made earlier were gone.

  Harry wiped his gloved hand over his goggles. “It’s impossible, but you’re right. We’re turning around and going back.”

  “Harry, you turned around when you came back for me. We’re headed in the right direction now.”

  “Don’t you remember, Sunny, I turned around again after you got in? We were already skimming over the snow.”

  “Harry, are you sure? We need to be sure here before we get ourselves lost. I think I’m losing my voice from all the shouting.”

  “I’m not sure, Sunny. You aren’t sure either.”

  “You’re right, Harry. I turned around to look at my machine. But, didn’t you swerve and turn around when I called your attention to the fact the tracks were obliterated?”

  “I can’t be sure. I think it was sideways. We could be going east or west for all I know.”

  Panic coursed through Sunny. “What . . . what should we do, Harry? You’re using up all the gas. We need to make a decision.”

  “You make it, Sunny. My vote would be to go straight.”

  “Okay, let’s go straight. No, no, turn and go the other way. Wait, that doesn’t feel right either. Oh, Harry, nothing feels right. I’m scared.”

  “That makes two of us. We’re going straight. Cross your fingers and say a prayer.”

  “Does it feel like
we’re headed back to the barn, Harry?”

  “Yeah,” Harry lied.

  “You’re lying aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “I don’t know, Sunny.”

  13

  “Talk to me, Ruby. I need sound, noise, something to take my mind off what we’re doing. I gotta tell you I’m piss-assed scared. I don’t know if I’m capable of pulling this off. How in the damn hell did you talk that Texan into doing this?”

  “Sage, I’ve been talking nonstop since we became airborne. I don’t even know what I said to be honest. Like you, I wanted to hear sound. I thought you’d be tired of hearing me babble by now. You didn’t even hear me. You’re so caught up in worry you just now realized I’m here. Listen to me—if you weren’t scared, there would be something terribly wrong. As for Metaxas, he doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear. As you know, according to all the books, there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.”

  “Worried is more like it. What we’re doing is incredibly stupid. I know it, and you know it. Metaxas knows it, and he’s out there, ahead of us somewhere.”

  “I’ve always believed it’s better to try to do something than sit around and do nothing. Your father said I was a mover and a shaker like he was,” Ruby said, her voice going from a high-pitched wail to a subdued whisper.

  “My dad was a mover and a shaker all right.”

  “You need to forgive your father, Sage. We don’t live in a perfect world, so things go awry. Your father’s destiny was carved out for him the day he was born. He played out the hand he was dealt the only way he knew how. If we lived in a perfect world, he would have been a perfect father and you kids would have been the Brady Bunch. You’re a better person because of the hand your father was dealt. That’s how I see it. I was bitter, too. Ash told me I had the best of the deal, and, you know something, he was right. The best part of your father’s saga was that he made things right in the end. Some people don’t get to do that. The last few years of his life were his happiest. When your mother needed a break she’d call me and I’d go to the mountain and stay with him for a few days. He balked at first, but I wore him down with my persistence. We became close, and he confided many things to me. It worked for both of us because I didn’t judge him, and he didn’t judge me.”