by Jan Harman
“Once we get higher up the slope, you’ll be able to see the two types of gates. Each member of your team must pass through the red gates. If someone misses, points are deducted. Black gates require only one member to pass through but a pair working in tandem to get it accomplished. A board man launches his glide man through a gate that sends the glide man rocketing into the air. If the next gate is black, the glide man becomes the board man for his teammate. The waiting teammate has to judge the glide man’s air time and landing site, timing his approach and subsequent hook up for launch. On the high courses like this we run a six person team with five teams out on the slope. Interspersed along the slope are seven red and five black gates. The team with the fastest time less deductions wins.”
Open mouthed, I stared up at the brightly lit course. “That sounds insane.”
“The game is a favorite winter sport played at all skill levels graduating up from the bunny slope on up to advanced runs. At ridge level competition, you’ve got to be an experienced sapphire level or higher and be good enough to make a team. It’s not for the faint hearted or inept since it requires the ability to shift vibrate as the thought is forming in your head.”
“Great, so you can plow into a snow bank or tree while vibrating. What happens if you get hurt and pass out while you’re shifted?”
“Every sport has its risk,” he answered with a confident shrug of his wide shoulders.
“Shade, shouldn’t you be heading topside?” a guy wearing an orange vest called out from his snowmobile.
“I told the team to take my name off the roster.”
“You didn’t get the word? Troy’s wife’s car broke down just outside of Gunnison on the way home this afternoon. She had all four kids with her and not a one old enough yet to vibrate. Troy headed over to see if he could get the car going. Your team’s down a man.”
Shade scowled up at the ridge where tiny figures were moving around, getting into position. “Shad?”
“Can’t, I’m restricted until the clan gives me clearance,” he answered, his narrowed eyes flicking over to me as he stomped back to us with Rylan and Meadow on his heels.
“That’s it then. The team will have to forfeit.”
“But, Shade, you’ve got to defend the title. A win will set a new team record,” Rylan protested, his expectant face upturned in what was clearly a case of hero worship.
“Please! I don’t want to listen to Daisy McCay’s gloating for an entire year,” Meadow pleaded.
“I’ve got other responsibilities,” he replied, turning away from the snowmobiler.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” I said, shaking my head. “As insanely dangerous as this race is, you need to get yourself up there and support your team.”
An eager expression lit ups his eyes, causing the narrow white bands to spiral, then abruptly his face closed down. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. I’m in excellent company, right?” I asked, staring straight at Shadow, thinking I could put up with his company for a few minutes. “Have some fun. It’s the holidays.”
“Shad?”
“Just go already. I’ll play nice.”
Chapter 16
I caught a glimpse of Shade dashing towards the ski lift before I had to give in to Meadow’s persistent tugging. “Alright lead the way.”
“Hey look, it’s the child warden,” a nasty voice called out from the crowd.
“Isn’t she going to let you play, Shadow?”
Rylan stopped. Shadow dropped an arm about his shoulder and said loudly, “Ten bucks says Leroy will be pancaking it down the slope again this year.” Both Rylan and Meadow laughed as we left behind taunts that were now directed at Shade’s team.
Half way up the slope, I heard a familiar laugh. “Trent?” I called to the group of three guys and one girl heading in the opposite direction.
He disentangled himself from the girl who was draped all over him. “Hey, Olivia,” he answered, jogging over to my side. “Come watch the race with us.”
Meadow tugged on my hand. “She’s watching it with us.”
“Trent, come on. I thought we were going to the finish line,” the girl whined, her lower lip pushing out into a pout.
“Don’t let me keep you. Your girlfriend is getting impatient,” I replied in a frosty tone.
Trent lowered his voice. “It’s not what you think. We’re just friends.”
“Close friends apparently.”
He glowered down at Meadow. “Go away. We’re having an adult conversation.”
“Now isn’t the time for this,” I replied, taking a step back.
He grabbed my arm. “I said it’s not like that. Come party with us. You know it’ll be more fun than hanging out with kids.”
A gust knocked him sideways, forcing him to let go of my arm. He spun around. Snowballs slid down his back. He glared at Shad and Rylan. “You can get in trouble for that.”
I looped an arm around Meadow’s shoulders. “We’ve got to go. We’re going to miss the race. Lead the way, Meadow.”
Trent stepped forward as though to block my way. Anger flared in his eyes and he rounded on Shadow, shouting, “Jerk! I bet you’re not so tough with fists.”
“Trent, are you crazy,” Bradley exclaimed, grabbing Trent and dragging him away.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Olivia. I can explain,” Trent shouted after us.
Once we got a little higher up the slope Rylan handed me his binoculars. “Shade’s team is wearing the red jackets. He’s the one with the black cap. As captain, he’ll glide gate five. It’s got the trickiest line. He’s got to calculate the right angle and hold it so he can shoot out in perfect position to be board man for the gate six glider.”
“And if he doesn’t get a good line?” I asked, envisioning safety procedures and such.
“He’ll have to pour on the vibes and power glide to launch his man. If you look just to the left of the third lift tower from the peak, past the band of pines over towards the rock outcropping, you can see the start of the gate. Five is a wicked airborne.”
Rylan’s description was enough to jump start my heart. Swallowing hard, I gaped through the binoculars unnerved by their definition of the word, gate. The shiny, open topped tube resembled a cross between a bobsled run and a snowboarder’s half pike, except that it was angled to rocket the glider into dizzying heights. These people were insane, and I just sent the guy who was supposed to keep me safe up there?
Eager clusters of folks wearing their team colors were spread out across the lower end of the slope, their numbers thinning as we hiked higher up the slope away from families with little kids. I trailed along, falling further behind Rylan and Shadow with Meadow skipping impatiently at my side. Grimacing and breathing hard, I stopped between a pair of pine trees.
“My leg can’t take this. You run ahead and join Rylan. I can see perfectly fine from here.” Too fine, I realized, my eyes easily finding the scary, silver tube. I shuddered, wishing I had stayed back at the picnic table where it was impossible to see the end of the tube curving way up into the air and the incredibly far drop back to the powdery slope. My palms started to sweat, dampening the inside of my gloves.
Shadow stalked back down the slope. “You can see the whole race from the rocks,” he explained as though I couldn’t figure that out for myself.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Scared of heights?” he sneered.
“Healing body. But don’t let me keep you. Go join your cousins.”
His muscles tensed and relaxed as his gaze tracked his teammates. “Get over yourself, princess. This race is the finals of the holiday tournament. Meadow invited you. She’ll feel obligated to come down here where she can’t see anything. Jeez you’re a selfish b—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my eyes glued to the ridge line. “Go tell Meadow to stay put. Insist.”
The crowd cheered. My Shade radar kicked in. I locked onto the figure in the re
d jacket with the black cap launching out of the first tube with his boots precariously riding the curved edge.
“It’s going to be like that is it? Team Nighthawks thought they could create a block to throw off Shade’s timing or maybe even press him over the edge and out of the race,” Shad explained, speaking faster and louder. “It’ll take more than that. Not one of them can edge glide close to his speed. They’re just lucky his regular blocker has been benched. Come on, Callum, get up there and play defense. Slam them with a snow wall,” Shad yelled as the teams entered the second gate.
A figure in a red jacket shoved his way between two blue jackets. Beneath their feet, a sheet of white lifted off the slope. The upper end rolled over, forming a powdery garnish curl. Shade’s teammate shot forward seconds before the snow curl hit the back of the men’s knees. One went down immediately, tumbling and rolling to a stop. The other flailed with one leg in the air before regaining control. My chest squeezed tighter. I had to remember that I could breathe. Obviously some of the finer points of the race had been conveniently glossed over. They were all nuts.
The crowd cheered. Shad hooted and punched his arm in the air.
Too many flying bodies careened across the slope at speeds I could hardly fathom. Suddenly, someone wearing a green jacket shot out of the short tube of gate three, spinning like a figure skater doing a triple Lutz. He hung gracefully in the air for a half a beat before smacking into the ground. I whirled about a hand clenched over my mouth.
“Way to go Leroy.” Shadow chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish, too?” he said derisively. “You can look now. He’s up and angling, albeit slowly, for the next gate. Green’s fallen way off the pace.”
With my hands gripping a pine bough for support, I tried to hold it together for the sake of all the wardens who’d come before me. If only the crowd would simmer down, I’d get my heart rate under control. Snow slid off the branches and plopped onto my boots. I turned my head and a bouncing branch slapped my right temple. Air hissed between my pinched lips.
“Turn off the drama. Not every moment has to revolve around you.”
“Shut up,” I shouted at him, or at least I tried to. I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. The face I wanted very much to hate, but couldn’t because it held too much of Shade, leaned in closer, lips curving sharply downward. “Go on, sneer, laugh, whatever. I can’t dredge up concern for your warped opinion. I want down off this slope. I cannot watch someone else in agony or wait for someone else to die. I can’t do it again,” I cried, my ragged voice dragging out of an uncomfortably tight chest. Sister Willow was going to be disappointed after all her effort. I swiped a glove across my eyes. “There, that’ll give you something else to feel superior about.”
He let out a loud breath, his gaze pivoting between me and the race. An out stretched arm gestured towards the course. “No one’s going to die. Just come—”
I pushed past him. “I’m not staying just so you can get off on my fears.”
“Hold up; I’ve got to tell the kids. Olivia, just wait. I didn’t mean it.” He grabbed my forearm. “You’re shaking?” he said, his voice confused, maybe even concerned.
A collective gasp swept across the face of the slope. Shadow whirled about, his sudden movement jerking me around. “What the hell? It’s localized on gate five.”
A stream of abrasive vibrations jarred my spine. I cringed and pulled free. At first I didn’t see the problem. Then another stiff, cross breeze unfurled the gate flags and kicked up the snow, hampering visibility in the landing zone. A black capped figure shot out of the tube, his extended body laid out nearly horizontal. Hope flared as Shade sailed high above the turbulent gusts sweeping across the course.
Flags rippled and flipped around their poles. Those marking the end of the tube were ripped away by a violent updraft scooping a wall of snow off the mountain. Officials nearest the gate were the first to be buried. A few monitoring the hook ups for gate six managed to vibe out of the way. Wind shrieked across the tube, slicing grooves into the snow, sending four skiers tumbling and skidding to a halt.
I grabbed Shadow’s arm, not even caring about the pricking sensation making my hand go numb. The crowd gathered along the slope let out a frightened cry as the roiling snow mass crested perilously above the solitary figure dropping through the air. Snow plumes swatted at Shade, like a fly swatter at a bug. The air crackled. Shade pulled his body into a tucked position and flung an arm backwards. His punch blew out a picnic table sized hole in the wall. Folks cheered. The leading snow plume curled and flicked. A horrified hush settled over the crowd as limbs tumbled out of the tuck. For a moment, Shade looked like a man surfing a snow cloud. Suddenly, the wave collapsed, slamming into the slope with the deafening roar of an avalanche. Beach ball sized chunks of ice showered onlookers. Swirling currents spat Shade back out, catapulting him high into the air in a series of backwards somersaults. Head first; his limp body plummeted into the localized storm.
My too human and quite out of shape body couldn’t keep up with Shadow’s pace. I stumbled. A blurred arm tugged me not too gently back onto my feet and kept going. I yanked my arm free and shouted, “Go!” Shadow was already streaking away, his red jacket blending with the snow.
At first I confused the wail with the noise of the crowd, so I was slow to look behind me. When I did, my dumbfounded brain couldn’t equate the spiraling formation to reality. Ice pelts stung my face, shaking me out of my stupor. Gaining speed and size, the snow twister skirted the far side of the pine trees, angling up the steep slope towards the distracted crowd perched on the rock outcropping. The kids!
Chapter 17
Each stumbling footstep took me deeper into an otherworldly landscape devoid of comforting features to give a sense of space or the passage of time. The shrieking wind—a formless entity intent upon driving me to my knees—bombarded my body with heavy, wet snow that piled onto my slim frame. Within this frightening shroud, colors resembled ghostly smears left on a white board. Too short of breath from the thin air, I couldn’t even call for help. Not that my cries would’ve been heard. They were too quick and the wind too fierce. My heart clamored in my chest. Shade’s name was on my lips as though I’d spent a lifetime turning to him. The horrifying image of his limp, cart-wheeling body tormented my every step. I had to trust that others were seeing to him, just like I had to trust in my decision.
I jabbed my crutch into the snow, trying to see by the halo of light coming off the ski run. Something caught my eye, but it was swallowed by the maddened snow before I could get a good look. I drew in a lung full of frigid air that burned all the way down, flash freezing me from the inside out. I moaned and sagged, pushing my makeshift post sideways. Heaviness stole over my tiring body, lulling my troubled thoughts with pleasant dreams of tropical breezes and sun drenched beaches. A cool breeze sprayed stinging sand into my face. I muttered irritably and forced one eye open. My head popped up. I squinted; trying to tell if what I’d seen between the swirling eddies had been a stain against the otherwise endless white. Please let it be the rocks the kids were using. If not, then at least someplace I could use for shelter, I prayed, shivering violently.
Out of the tempestuous sea rose the dark, jagged stones of my lighthouse. I searched the rock face for the kids or anyone else who might’ve sought shelter. Near the base, a patch of red against black galvanized my weary body. “Rylan! Meadow!” I shouted, but the wind scooped my voice away. In lurching movements, I stumbled towards the two bodies huddled against boulders that had minutes earlier been their perch.
“Olivia!” Rylan shouted, grabbing my arm and dragging me closer when I collapsed on my knees just outside the narrow crevice. “Where’s Shadow?”
“I’m alone,” I answered through teeth that wouldn’t stop chattering. I shifted to the side, trying to use my shivering body to protect them against the stinging ice and brutal gusts.
“The wind came out of nowhere. Everyone scattered. I thought Me
adow was following me, but when I turned to help her down the steep part, she wasn’t there,” Rylan explained, his voice catching as he tucked his little sister’s scarf back into place. “I called for help, but no one came. Then I saw Meadow’s boot. The wind had knocked her right off the rock. I . . . I thought she was dead. I climbed down and dragged her here.” He sucked in his lower lip and turned to face the rock and sniffed loudly.
“You did great.” My stomach did a few flips when I took in the dark stain on the gray and white, striped scarf encircling his sister’s neck. “Meadow, how do you feel?”
“My head is woozy and my arm hurts.” She started to cry. “It won’t straighten.”
“Don’t try. Keep it against your body. Here, let’s use my scarf. That might help,” I said, pulling my scarf off. That’s when I noticed how badly she was shaking, worse than I was. Oh crap, shock. I had to get them off the slope before we got hypothermia waiting for help.
Rylan tugged a glove off with his teeth and slipped a pulsating hand under her collar. “It’s not very warm, but it should help. I keep trying to connect with Mom and Dad, but I can’t . . . I’m too scared. This is my fault. I should’ve grabbed Meadow when the wind first started.”
“You found her; you’re a hero. Everything is going to be alright. I’ll get you guys out of here and nice and warm in no time,” I replied, forcing confidence into my voice. Now I had to live up to that promise. “Rylan, what level are you?”
After a moment’s pause, he answered, his wide eyes never leaving the blizzard clearly visible over my shoulder. “Early turquoise. What’s happening?”
He didn’t know? This was bad.
“Rylan, look at me. You need to listen to me. Can you vibe ski?” I demanded, forming a plan that I had no way of knowing would work or if they were too frightened to try. “Can you?” I asked again, shaking him to get his attention off the blizzard. Bleak eyes tore into me. I fought to keep my fear from showing.
