Mountain Sickness: A Zombie Novel

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Mountain Sickness: A Zombie Novel Page 8

by Frank Martin


  But that he went from feeling fine to near death in less than an hour wasn't the only shocking aspect of his predicament. Even more surprising was that his sister was actually trying to make him feel better. It's not that he thought she was evil or wished him any harm. In fact, if he weren’t feeling well Joey would've expected his sister to actually leave him alone and not be the obnoxious princess she normally was. But today she was trying to comfort him, offering kind words and sympathy.

  He could tell she wanted to cuddle him, to wrap him up in her arms and keep him warm. But the triple chairlift didn't allow for them to sit next to one another. If they wanted to have the safety bar down on top of their laps then one of them had to sit on each side. Otherwise, the unequal weight would've caused the chair to drastically lean. Normally, a slight dip to a chairlift wouldn't be such a big deal, but with the high winds from a mountain blizzard already blowing the siblings back and forth, it wouldn't be a good idea to add to the equation.

  So, as the lift blindly brought them up the mountain and deeper into the storm, Stephanie sat helplessly watching her brother suffer on the opposite end of the chair. Joey was only a mere three feet away, but the bullets of snow whizzing between them made it feel like a hundred. Joey's eyes briefly looked up from within his curled over frame and caught a glimpse of his sister's face. Her eyes, barely visible through the fogged up ski goggles, reflected a concern Joey wasn't used to seeing.

  As brother and sister, they felt it was their job to torture one another. It was just what siblings did. But they were still family, and Joey always knew his sister cared for him in some fashion. That deep down she loved him the same way he loved her. It was just an unspoken understanding between siblings. But never before had he seen it so outwardly expressed through her actions. He wasn't feeling well, and for the first time Joey could see she truly sympathized with his condition.

  She wanted to help him, and Joey wanted to be grateful for that. But for some reason he just couldn't find the words to tell her. He searched down deep within himself for any semblance of affection, but the emotion was gone, replaced by a plague of doubt. The love for his sister slowly transformed into a source of anger and frustration. He looked at the compassionate hand she would periodically place on his knee and felt disgusted. Aggravated. Resentful even. He despised the fact that it took a blizzard and a near life-threatening illness for her to show any type of sentiment towards him. Why now? What was so special about this moment? After all the years they spent together had she finally decided that he's not the brat she thinks he is? That he's actually just a helpless little boy who can't take care of himself. That he needs mommy and daddy to look after him. So that's it, he thought. She felt sorry for him. Well, he didn't need her pity.

  Joey sat silently as Stephanie continued to project soft-spoken words of kindness over the roar of the wind. "Are you gonna be able to board down or should we call ski patrol?"

  But her brother took the words as a condescending insult. "Since when did you care so much?"

  "Joey! You're my brother. Of course I care."

  He lifted his bare chin out from within his neck gaiter and gave his sister a glare that caused her whole body to jerk back from shock. A moment earlier, Joey's pale, exhausted skin made it look as if he was about to pass out. But now, Stephanie was honestly surprised he found the strength to stare her down with such contempt. Combined with the bits of frost and snow covering his face, to which he was oblivious, Joey's pinpoint pupils gave him the appearance of a maddened fiend of terror. Red and bulging, his eyeballs pierced through his sister with a furious rage she never knew he had.

  Unable to comprehend the sight before her, Stephanie's jaw dropped open in disbelief. "What...what's wrong with you?"

  Despite the unfathomable surge of anger rushing through him, Joey could still hear the thoughts in his head. But each one only drove him deeper into a whirlwind of loathing. He was now completely convinced of his sister's betrayal. They were only family by blood. Not by choice. She never really loved him. Never cared about him. All she ever cared about was herself. He was just a pest to her. A rodent that she would throw aside the first chance she got. And every second Joey had to sit next to this bitch only fueled the inferno of hatred burning inside him.

  With coldly vicious eyes, Joey continued to stare at his sister through the wall of moving snow between them. "I always thought it was a joke when we fought. But now I see the truth, I could've died at any moment and you wouldn't have shed a tear."

  Stephanie let go of one of her ski poles, allowing it to dangle by the strap on her wrist. Then, sensing her brother’s pain, she leaned over to place another calm hand on his shoulder. "Come on. That's not true."

  But before she could reach him, Joey smacked the hand away and pressed forward into the center of the chair. "Stop pretending! You hate me! You've always hated me!"

  Reacting to her brother's attack, Stephanie leaned back into her corner of the chair, unknowingly balancing it out as it lightly swayed back and forth. "No way. I'd do anything for you."

  Joey took several deep breaths, calming himself from a rapid pant to a deep sigh. He then slowly backed down into his side of the chair and turned to face away from his sister. "Then just leave me alone."

  The argument died down and the siblings retreated to their respective sides of the chair. Joey dazed off, allowing his simmering hatred to fester and boil under the surface. But Stephanie couldn't let go of her concern for him. She didn't say a word and respected his wish for silence. But he looked so angry, so full of pain. And it all happened so quickly. What happened to her little baby brother that was so fun and full of life?

  The uneasiness within her continued to build until Stephanie couldn't take it anymore and had to make things right. "Joey, I..."

  Upon hearing his sister's voice, all thoughts racing through Joey's head suddenly vanished. Like the flip of a switch, his consciousness was overcome by oblivion. Every feeling, every emotion, every ounce of himself faded away into nothingness. And his mind became an ultimate blank.

  In that instant, the boy known as Joey Fallon lost all will of his being. And his body seemingly moved by itself, free from control as he unleashed a bloodcurdling, animal-like scream, lunging towards his sister in an all out attack.

  His gloved hands swiped back and forth repeatedly just shy of her terrified face. Latched securely onto his left foot, the boy's snowboard couldn’t move passed the chair's safety bar, keeping his body in place and his sister out of reach. But that didn't prevent him from trying over and over again, lunging and grasping for his sister like a crazed animal struggling for a meal.

  On instinct, Stephanie had leaned back and away, but still sat frozen in place, completely dumbstruck by the fit of maniacal rage that had taken over her brother. "Joey...stop...please."

  Her soft pleas faded into the storm, and in his maddened state, Joey wouldn't have heard them anyway. Stephanie wanted to cry, but sheer terror kept her from doing much of anything besides clutching the metal frame of the chair.

  For several moments, Joey continued to swipe at his sister's throat in a wild and chaotic frenzy. His lunges back and forth caused the chair to continuously sway further and further, adding to his sister's paralyzing fear. It was then that Stephanie heard the faint remnant of voices echoing through the storm. She turned her head and saw an outline of their parents in the chair behind her, shouting forward towards the odd sight in front of them. Stephanie tried to scream to her mother and father, but Joey's beast-like growls and snarls distracted her from calling for help.

  The formerly jovial boy had transformed into a ravenous creature devoid of logic or reason. He ripped at his clothing, throwing his gloves and hat into the storm. With cracked, pale skin covering his bare hands, Joey continued to flail about wildly. Spit and saliva flew all around him as the boy's teeth gnashed ferociously towards his sister.

  Stephanie tried to back further away but was held captive alongside her brother inside the small,
moving chairlift. The chair's thin safety bar still kept Joey from fully reaching his sister. He lunged and lunged, pressing his body further towards his prey. But every attempt was refuted again and again by his board caught onto the bar.

  Like a frustrated child, Joey threw a fit in his seat, using his free right leg to repeatedly kick down onto the board. Stephanie watched the tantrum, unsure as to what he was trying to accomplish. The board was securely attached to Joey's left foot, and his leg would surely come off before it could be wedged free. It wasn't until Stephanie leaned forward for a closer look that she noticed the plastic bindings which strapped Joey's board to his boot were starting to break away.

  The startled girl knew she had to act. She had to do something. But she couldn't believe the force and ferocity with which her brother stomped down onto his board. It was unreal for him to have such strength. But with every blow from Joey's boot, another piece of the binding flew off, loosening his foot from the board.

  A combination of fear and disbelief had overcome the teenage girl, but her body suddenly shocked into action as Joey gave his board one final blow. In a solemn, explosive instant, the binding was destroyed, shattered into a million pieces, and his snowboard fell down toward the unseen mountain below.

  Now free from the safety rail's restraint, Joey climbed his entire body onto the chair and lunged at his sister. With a rush of unexpected adrenaline surging through her, Stephanie lifted one of her ski poles, holding it as a barrier between her and her attacker. But undeterred by the obstruction, Joey pressed against the pole, swiping at his sister beyond it.

  With her feet still locked into her skis, Stephanie did the best she could to leverage the pole in front of her and keep her crazed sibling at bay. Without any sign of letting up, Joey's assaults continued on, rocking the chairlift back and forth through the relentless snowfall. Perpetual gusts blasted them from every side, and through the roar of the winds, Stephanie could hear her parents’ faint shouts of concern and worry. She tried to wiggle her body around, hoping to maneuver herself into a better position of safety. But her cumbersome skis kept her in place, a helpless victim to both her vicious brother and the pendulum swing of the chair.

  Just then, the chair came to a sudden stop, ending the struggle as the momentum sent Joey stumbling backwards. Taking advantage of the small opportunity given to her, Stephanie grabbed onto the safety bar as Joey prepared to lunge forward once more. When he finally did, his sister shot the bar up and off of her, slamming the metal rail into the side of his head.

  The blow dazed Joey for only a moment, but it was enough to allow Stephanie the time to move to the edge of the seat and peer over the edge. She couldn't see the ground through the veil of dense snowfall, but the risk never crossed her mind. Just as Joey regained his footing, Stephanie plunged off the chair and down into the storm underneath the lift.

  She disappeared in an instant, and Joey never bothered to give her another thought. Just as she was gone, he turned his attention back towards the chair behind him and saw a glimmer of his parents’ fearful faces. Reacting on a perpetual, bloodthirsty instinct, Joey stood on top of the chair and climbed the overhead bar connected to the thick, steel cable above.

  In a frantic spasm, Joey grabbed onto the cable and jerked it about in every direction. With the help of the gale force winds surrounding him, Joey weaved the chair back and forth, swinging it around like a toy. The motion caused a chain reaction of building momentum, forcing the other chairs down the line to follow suit. Screaming and shouting for the boy to stop, Joey's parents held onto their chair as it tossed them around like ragdolls, but their desperate words were lost and pointless.

  Their son continued to swing the chair side to side until the entire contraption twisted and tangled upon itself. The tension built up across the line until it finally dislodged the nearest pulley assembly from its pylon. Without being secured, the line wrapped itself around the main bullwheel, causing the cable to snap and the entire chairlift to topple over and collapse down to the mountain below.

  8

  Chris usually loved riding a snowmobile. Not today. The intensity of the storm made every inch of forward progress up the mountain a challenge. And the pair of skis strapped to his back didn't help his momentum. The machine climbed like an animal, ripping apart the massive amounts of snow under its treads. But without a shield, its rider felt every aspect of the elements' wrath. The huge, high-speed snowflakes were already continuously pounding Chris's goggles, but flying against them at sixty mph turned the non-stop barrage into a fury of fluffy bullets. If he thought it was hard to see before, now it was damn near impossible.

  Luckily, the young patroller had a good sense of the mountain to navigate up the terrain. Snowmobile protocol had him keep mostly to the edge of the runs, hugging the tree line to avoid any collision. But Chris had seen fewer people since breaking away from Phillip only minutes earlier. He didn't know if the guests were keeping inside because of the storm or if he just couldn't see them through the snow caked onto his goggles. But the mountain seemed almost completely empty save for a few stragglers stumbling downhill like those he'd seen before.

  They didn't look well. Swerving and struggling to stay upright, the skiers were certainly under some form of distress. Normally, Chris would've met the people to see if they were all right. After all, it was his duty. Without a call from dispatch though, it wasn't his concern or, more importantly, his responsibility. Something strange was going on, churning a bad feeling in his gut. The storm had certainly put things into perspective, and with Sarah in trouble the thought of stopping never even entered his mind.

  He’d been that way ever since hearing her name over the radio. It was a little bit of a sly move for Phil to take off without him. Technically, no two-man team was to separate for any reason. But that last call was pretty much a no-brainer. There was nothing for the patrollers to do but strap the woman to the sled, keep her warm and get her to a doctor. Meanwhile, Sarah was obviously in some type of distress. In all her years working ski school she'd never called for help before. So, almost as if they read each other's minds, Phillip quick-pitched the husband by zooming down the mountain with his wife and forcing his attention away from his partner. Some might’ve called it a shady move, however, the occasion called for it. Chris was usually reluctant to use the “e” word, but he thought it was safe to classify this as an emergency.

  The snowmobile continued to claw its way high up the mountainside, eating through the treacherous snow conditions with ease. It didn't take long for Chris to pass the tree line and reach the top of the mountain. The ski run opened up to a great expanse of flat terrain where the snowmobile leveled off into a cruise.

  Chris felt freer without the trees bearing down on top of him. But the snowfall still clouded the air, obscuring the scene in every direction. Completely surrounded by rocky peaks and a clear shot of the town in the valley below, the sight was usually a beautiful view. It was an area almost always packed with activity. Tourists stopped to take pictures with mountain photographers. Families used the spot as a meeting ground to rest and regroup. Now it was nothing more than a barren mountaintop filled in by a never-ending layer of falling snow.

  Chris knew there was a chairlift around somewhere that dropped riders off on this plateau of land, a landmark for those trying to navigate the mountain. Now the giant mechanical structure was completely hidden, buried behind a dotted wall of moving white that flowed from side to side as if it were alive. Chris lifted his goggles ever so slightly, but it didn't help. With the snow and wind constantly attacking his face, Chris was barely able to keep his eyes open let alone see off into the distance.

  Finding Joseph’s would be difficult without a point of reference. But not impossible. Like any patroller, Chris had memorized Telluride's trail map to the point where he could recite all of the mountain's runs in alphabetical order.

  He knew the building's general location and started slowly riding in that direction. From the top of the n
earest chairlift Joseph’s was a good five-minute traverse on skis. Obviously, the snowmobile could get there in no time, but without knowing exactly where he was headed, Chris had to restrain the urge to open the snowmobile up full throttle. He could easily miss the lodge or worse, accidentally drop off the side of a run. Hopefully, Chris could find some structure or familiar spot that could get him there quickly.

  His head remained on a slow and deliberate swivel, making sure to completely survey the entire area. But nothing stood out as unique among the snow and emptiness. When no sign appeared after the first minute of putting forward, Chris had to actively fight off disappointment. Giving up hope wasn't an option. One way or another he was going to find Sarah. Even if he had to ride around in circles until the snow stopped.

  The endless search for the lodge continued as Chris's eyes remained perpetually focused. They peered back and forth through the goggles, looking for any sign of something other than snow. The patroller was so zoned into his mission that when an alarm rung through the radio attached to his chest the loud ringing nearly frightened him half to death. The loud noise was a signal for an incoming call, but Chris couldn't understand why he was getting it? As far as he knew Phillip hadn't yet dropped off their last patient, and only crews on standby could receive an alert.

  Curious about the call, Chris lowered his ear down by the radio to hear the dispatcher over the storm's roaring wind. "All units. All units. Chair six is down. I repeat. Chair six has collapsed."

  Chris gasped from shock. That was the lift he passed at the top of the mountain if he even passed it at all. The whole structure might’ve gone down before he even got there. Maybe that's why he didn't see it. Because the chair wasn't there anymore.

  He began to think about the lives on board. The people hurt, dead or dying as the dispatcher went on. "I know you're all busy. I don't know where anyone is anymore, but we need somebody over there. Anybody. Please."

 

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