“Not yet. First I have to poke a ventilation hole through our roof to the outside. Whenever you burn something in a tight space, you need ventilation or you could die from carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“Yo, can everything in Alaska kill ya?” Nicky asked.
“Just about.” Jack took the tin cup and pushed it against the snow overhead, rotating it to make a circular hole. When he pulled out the cup, snow came with it—he dumped the snow into the bucket, repeating the process until the bucket was nearly full. “Well, it’s going to take me a while to break through,” he said, “but maybe you can light the camp stove now, Nicky, if you keep the flame real low. Ashley, set the bucket over the flame so the snow will melt, because we need to get water for drinking.”
“Why does the woman always have to do the cooking?” Ashley complained, but she was smiling.
The whole process seemed to take forever: Use the tin cup to scrape a hollow in their ceiling, dump the snow into the bucket, heat the bucket on the stove, get about half a cup of water, take turns drinking it, and keep doing the whole thing over and over again. The cave didn’t exactly grow warm, but between the small flame of the stove and the body warmth of the three of them huddling together, the temperature rose enough for Jack to unzip his parka and pull off his gloves.
“Finally!” he yelled, as he pushed his fist through the snow roof to touch outside air. Wiggling his fingers at the dark night, he told them, “We have ventilation! And it isn’t snowing too hard right now.”
“Do I have to keep drinking this melted snow? I don’t want to drink any more—I’m sick of it!” Ashley complained.
“Drink! Your brother commands you,” Jack told her.
“Then I’ll just have to go to the bathroom.”
“Stop drinking! Your brother commands you.”
“Ha, ha. Are you sure there wasn’t any food in the duffel bag?”
Jack shook his head and tried to close his mind off against his own hunger. “Just the disgusting fat bars. Nicky was right. Listen to the first two ingredients: poultry fat and fish meal. No way I’ll ever be that hungry.”
“Throw them outside,” Ashley ordered. “They stink.”
“Sure. I’m not gonna eat them.” Jack slid across the narrow floor of snow, which by now was getting pretty compacted. Outside, wind moaned through the trees with deep sighs. Although the snowfall had lightened, the wind had picked up. That meant the tracks from Chaz’s dogsled would be totally obliterated by morning, and without those tracks to guide them…well, Jack would face that problem in the morning. With his feet, he kicked the fat bars outside, then shoved the duffel bag against the entrance opening, blocking it most of the way. Scooting backward on his behind, he squeezed himself between Ashley and Nicky, trying not to be too obvious, but not wanting Nicky Milano pressed close against his sister.
For several minutes they sat in silence while Ashley made shadows on the snowy wall of their cave, her fingers moving as delicately as if she were playing piano keys. First a dog shadow, then a bunny, and after that a few more shadows that didn’t look like any recognizable creatures. Finally she asked, “Nicky, do you believe in ghosts?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. “I don’t know,” he said, staring intently at his chapped knuckles. “Yes. No. Maybe.” He shook his head. “Why?”
“I know Jack doesn’t, but before we got in the snow cave, I was looking up, and I saw this shadow in the very tip of a fir tree. It was at least six feet long, and it wound around the treetop like a black cloth.”
“That was an owl,” Jack snorted.
Ashley rapped him sharply with her knuckles. “I know what an owl looks like, and it wasn’t an owl. Do you—” She licked her lips, then said, “Nicky, do you think Chaz is dead?”
“I know he is. Ashley, I checked, and there were no footprints anywhere. He didn’t come out of that slide.”
“Do you think his spirit’s spying on us?”
“Nah, I bet he’s down there where bad guys go, roasting away.”
“But I think I saw him. You and Jack were busy with the tunnel—”
Jack couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in the afterlife, but there was no way a ghost would waste its time zooming around treetops. Spirits must have better things to do. “Come on, Chaz is buried under ten feet of snow. He’s dead,” Jack protested, hoping he was right.
Nicky leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His hair gleamed copper in the soft light. “When I was six, I thought I saw my mom a few times. My dad would take me to the park, and I swear I saw her, swinging high on the swings, the way we used to.”
“Really?” Ashley breathed. “What happened to her?”
“I—I don’t want to talk about any of my family. I…can’t.”
Jack saw his sister swallow her disappointment as Nicky balanced his elbows on his knees, his head bowed so that he closed in on himself, almost like a box that folded flat. The silence was uncomfortable, but Jack didn’t know what to say. Drawing people out was Ashley’s job.
Suddenly, Ashley brightened. “Hey, I know a wolverine legend that I read in a ranger’s book. If we get back home—” She swallowed, and Jack guessed she was asking herself if they would ever really escape, alive, from Denali’s bitter cold. After a small, wavering breath, she smiled again. “When we get back, Mom’ll be so happy that we know the answer to her mystery. We can tell her that Chaz killed the wolverines.” Her dark eyes widened as she made a connection. “Oh my gosh, remember what happened to his friend, the one who shot the wolverine? That guy died. Then Chaz killed five wolverines, and now he’s dead, too. Maybe that’s why the avalanche got him and not us. Maybe the ancient spirits got him.”
“Ashley!” Jack moaned.
But Nicky had raised his head. “I’m listening,” he said. “Tell your story.”
“It comes from an Alaskan Indian named Shem Pete.” Then, closing her eyes like a Native storyteller, Ashley began her tale.
CHAPTER NINE
In the fall, before Denali leaves were painted bright colors, a young Athapascan husband and wife came into the mountains to hunt squirrels. The husband desired the soft squirrel fur to conceal the woman’s face from the ice-cold Alaskan winters. His wife was so beautiful he wanted to hide her away, even from himself.
The woman’s hair was black as a raven’s wing and her eyes were nut brown. Her teeth were as white as whalebone. They said that when she smiled, the sun stayed in the heavens longer and shone a little brighter. Because he was a shaman, the husband used his magic to keep all other people away. Thus, the woman lived her life alone and lonely.
One day, when the shaman had gone to the far hills to hunt, a wolverine caught sight of the woman sitting by herself in her camp. Perched by the fire, she combed her long hair until the flames shone in her locks like bits of gold. In that instant, the wolverine fell madly in love with the woman. Yet, hidden as he was in the shadow of the forest, he could see that she was not happy.
Although small in stature, the wolverine could kill a bull moose and tow it away to its lair—that was the strength of the creature. So that very day he kidnapped that young woman and took her into his mountains.
When the shaman returned to find his fire empty, he raised his hands to the skies and made it rain over every single mountain. It rained and rained and rained. The wolverine tried to protect the woman from the ceaseless rain. He took her and tucked her under a rock overhang. When she shivered, he moved her beneath a cliff. But the water kept coming, coming, coming, drumming on the woman’s black hair until she was so cold she trembled like a leaf. Although the wolverine tried to warm her by covering her with his tail, he knew she was about to freeze to death. There was only one thing left to do.
When daybreak came, he walked a little way away and shook himself. Then, lifting his voice into the pouring rain, he started to sing.
“Oh Big Wolverine, push those clouds away. Oh Big Wolverine, push those clouds
away. Push them with your whole body. Push them with your whole body.”
Over and over the wolverine sang. Through the dark clouds the Big Wolverine heard the song. Sweeping the clouds from the sky, he made the sun break through.
The warmed earth began steaming all over, because the Big Wolverine had bottled up rain in the heavens once more.
“I took you away so you wouldn’t be alone,” the wolverine told the woman sadly. “Life is meant to be shared. But if you desire to go back to the shaman, tell me, and I will take you there.” He said this even though his heart was heavy.
Without a word she smiled at him, because the wolverine had saved her from being alone. They say that day the sun stayed in the heavens even longer, and shined its brightest. So the two of them hid away in the mountains, and to this day, no one knows where they went. It is said they are hiding still.
“That’s a really great story, Ashley,” Nicky said softly. “I like the way you told it.”
“Thank you.” Ashley looked up at Nicky with a glance that accentuated her long, thick eyelashes. She even blinked a couple of times. Oh crud, Jack thought.
They’d turned the flame low on the camp stove and had set it on the snow floor in the few inches of space between them. Jack found himself staring at the flickering flame; it was almost hypnotic. Maybe the other two were staring at it too, because for a while no one said anything. Except for their soft breathing, the cave was silent until Jack mused, “Chaz. I wonder if that’s a nickname for Charles?”
Nicky answered, “Chaz, Chuck, Charlie—they’re all nicknames for Charles. What about it?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about what you said earlier, when you were playing that game with us. You said ‘Charlie is alive.’ But…” He stared down at his chapped knuckles. “Chaz is dead.”
“Yeah,” Nicky agreed. “Chaz was buried alive, and now he’s dead.”
More minutes passed. Jack could have looked at his watch to see how many minutes, but it seemed like too much of a bother. He just sat still in the silence.
The deathly silence—those words drifted into his brain. Deathly, frozen silence, until…“What’s that noise?” he suddenly demanded.
“What noise?” Nicky and Ashley asked.
“Can’t you hear it? It’s like a…I don’t know, but it’s coming from outside!”
Nicky straightened. “Quit trying to scare Ashley.”
“I’m not!” Jack insisted. “Just listen.”
It came again, a crunching sound as if bone were being crushed. Jack could tell Nicky heard it this time, because his mouth set in a thin line.
Ashley scooted closer to Nicky. “It might be the ghost I saw in the trees.”
“Come on, that was no ghost,” Jack argued. “Look, we’re all hearing it now, whatever it is.”
“If it’s not a ghost, then maybe….” Ashley’s eyes widened, “What if Chaz isn’t dead?” Her voice rising to a squeak, she looked toward the entrance of the cave and cried, “What if he’s coming back for us?”
“I already told you, Chaz was killed in that slide,” Nicky said emphatically. “That sounds more like an animal gnawing. Shhhh. Just listen.”
As they waited in almost complete silence, at first Jack couldn’t hear anything except for their own shallow breathing. Then he heard the crunching, and after that a noise that was almost like an object being dragged. Moments passed, and the noise seemed to be getting closer. Was it footsteps Jack heard behind the flimsy duffel-bag door? His heart pounded so loudly, he wasn’t sure what was outside and what was hammering in his chest. “I can’t stand it—I’m going to take a look,” he said. Hoping they wouldn’t notice his fingers trembling in the half-light, Jack picked up the candle.
“I’ll go with you,” Nicky told him.
“No, you stay with Ashley. She’s already freaked.”
Scooting toward the entrance, Jack heard paper rustling outside. Paper—out here? Then he remembered the fat bars had been wrapped in paper. Some wild creature had come after the fat bars Jack had tossed right outside the entrance. Stupid, stupid, stupid to toss out food like that. Now the question was, what creature had found it?
Then he saw a twitching black nose poking around the edge of the duffel bag, snuffling across the frozen ground. Grizzly? No, too small. The muzzle burrowed in farther—covered with blood! Blood that left streaks on the snow cave’s packed entrance. The creature was coming in! Well, not if he had anything to do with it.
Taking a breath, Jack slammed his foot against the animal’s snout. It gave out a warning cry, but instead of backing off, it barreled the rest of its body through the makeshift door. Jack gasped! He knew what it was—he’d seen the pictures. Gulo gulo, the glutton. He’d just come face to face with the elusive wolverine!
“Did you see that?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes. Make him go away!” Ashley wailed.
“I’m trying! Those jaws are powerful. I don’t want to lose a foot. Oh, man, it’s coming back in!”
The wolverine had stopped partway into the cave’s entrance to glare fearlessly at them. Its long neck extended, its muzzle slimed with blood, its small eyes glowing as they reflected the candle flame, it looked truly ferocious. A low, guttural growl escaped from its snarling mouth.
“Get out of here!” Nicky cried, grabbing the shovel and beating the snow. “Go!”
“Nicky, don’t hurt it,” Ashley cried. “It doesn’t know.”
“I’m just trying to scare the thing. Man, look at those teeth!” When Nicky smacked the snow again hard, the motion seemed to startle the animal. After three or four more warning blows the wolverine backed away until it finally disappeared for good.
Nicky settled back into the cave and grinned. A flush crept up his cheeks, and he was panting. “What’s up with that? Was the wolverine listening to your story and figured he’d take a bow?”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. But that is so strange. I mean I just told that story and then one shows up. How weird is that?”
“Not as weird as you think,” Jack told them. “He came after the fat bars.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t explain what he’s chewing on out there. Can’t you hear that crunching? I swear that’s gotta be bone. Animal bone.” Nicky said. “Didn’t your mom say wolverines are scavengers?”
“Yeah, they patrol fresh avalanche tracks looking for animals killed by the slide,” Jack answered.
“But what is he scavenging?” Ashley asked. “We didn’t see anything out there except a lot of snow and a bunch of broken-off branches and—” Her eyes widened with horror. “Oh my gosh the dogs! He’s eating the dead dogs. I know that’s what he’s doing—that is so sick and disgusting.”
Of course Ashley had to be right. Jack could feel it. He wavered between being grossed out and forgiving the wolverine, because he understood the interactions that bound all life together. Animals in the wild had to survive. Nothing was wasted. Ever.
Ashley squeezed her eyes tight. “I can still hear the sounds—it’s too awful. I hate being here—Mom and Dad are probably—” Her voice cracked as she dropped her face into her hands. “Why is this even happening to us? We’re stuck here. We might die here, and I don’t understand why!”
Out of nowhere, Nicky said, “It’s all my fault. I’m…sorry. Really, really sorry.”
“No, I shouldn’t make you feel bad,” Ashley cried. “Your dad is serving the country in the CIA and that’s a good thing. But why did Chaz have to come after you? Why did this happen?”
The candlelight flicked across Nicky’s face, making his expression hard to read. A beat later, he admitted, “Come on, Ashley. That story about the CIA was a bunch of garbage, just like Jack said. Jack was right. He’s always right, isn’t he?”
Ashley’s eyebrows rose. “I—what are you saying?”
“Don’t you get it? There are no spies. I’m talking about my father’s—” He swallowed and pressed his lids tight. “My f
ather’s business associates. They were like wolverines—dangerous and deadly, preying on innocent people. Or maybe not such innocent people. I just want someone to know the truth. I’m tired of the lies. I’m especially tired of lying to you.”
Jack sat back on his heels. “What kind of lies?”
“Everything I ever told you. I’m sorry. But mostly I’m sorry about…” Nicky stopped, staring at them morosely as he said, “dragging you into all this. Chaz was on their payroll. It’s obvious. They have connections everywhere. Even in Alaska.”
“Who? Who has connections?” Jack demanded. “I don’t understand.”
“My dad was never with the CIA,” Nicky said, keeping his eyes lowered, staring at his hands. “My dad was on the other side.”
“What other side?”
“Organized crime.”
Jack sucked in his breath, and even Ashley seemed shocked into silence.
Nicky muttered, “I’m sick of secrets, sick of being like that Indian woman who never got to have any friends. Because of my dad I’m alone. Always alone. But then, that’s not living, is it? But telling you this—that’s risky. Maybe now you hate me. You’re wondering what kind of scum’s been brought into your life. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
Sifting through it, Jack finally realized what Nicky was trying to say. Nicky’s dad was a criminal. He wanted to pull away from Nicky Milano, but there was nowhere to go inside the snow cave. Organized crime. Mobsters. Scamming. Hit men. He felt his stomach turn against it all. In Jack’s life, all the pieces were lined in neat, orderly rows, like books on a library shelf. His parents took care of him, he attended school and made good grades, he went to Scouts. Life stayed nice and even, and it all made sense. But this! Nicky lived in a world where people didn’t think anything about killing each other for money. He felt himself shudder.
Ashley’s voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. “How did this happen?”
Buried Alive! Page 8
