Rescued by the Single Dad

by Emily Forbes

  ‘That sounds exciting. What did you have to do?’

  ‘Avalanche training, helicopter drops into the back country, abseiling down cliffs, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Exciting and exhausting.’

  He supposed it was both but there was nothing unusual in the hectic pace of his life. Working as a Special Ops paramedic meant his life moved rapidly from one disaster to another and he embraced the pace, especially over the past two years. Being busy meant he didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to dwell on things.

  ‘It’s been challenging,’ he admitted as they reached the front door of her lodge, ‘but it’s exhilarating too.’

  It had been busy and he was knackered. He should be going home to bed, not chatting up pretty strangers in the snow, but he’d been powerless to resist her. He could count on one hand the number of women he’d bothered to look at twice since losing his wife two years ago. There had been no shortage of offers, plenty of women seemed to find the idea of a widower romantically attractive, but he had barely given any of them the time of day. Initially he’d been too grief-stricken, then he’d felt as if he was being unfaithful, and lately he’d been too busy. But something about Charli had struck a chord with him; something about her had made him sit up and take notice.

  He was getting lonely. Shift work and a three-year-old daughter occupied a lot of his time but there were nights when he was home, alone on the couch while his daughter slept, and he missed adult company. Female company. He wanted a connection, it didn’t need to be permanent, but finding someone attractive was an unusual experience for him and that flutter of anticipation, that curiosity, that tremor of excitement, had been enough to galvanise him into action. When he’d seen her heading for the door he’d known he couldn’t let her leave without talking to her once more. He knew that if he let her walk out of the bar he would never see her again.

  Charli let go of his hand as she searched in her bag for the key. She turned to him and for the briefest of moments he thought about what he’d say if she invited him in.

  He was leaving tomorrow. At best, they could have one night together. But he didn’t get the impression that outcome was on the cards and he didn’t know if he would accept the invitation if it was forthcoming.

  ‘Do you think we could have that drink tomorrow night?’ she asked.

  He should have been relieved that her words weren’t the ones he’d half hoped to hear. A lack of an invitation meant he didn’t have to wrestle with his conscience, didn’t have to remind himself of all the reasons why he should say goodnight and go home to his own bed. She’d made the decision for him. He should be grateful but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

  ‘I’d love to but I have to go back to Melbourne.’ He was due to leave first thing in the morning but the disappointment left a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe he could postpone his departure for just a few hours? He’d have to make some phone calls, ask for more favours, but it would be worth it. He had to try. ‘Could I take you to brunch instead, or are you planning to be out skiing bright and early?’

  ‘No, brunch sounds lovely.’ She smiled up at him and made him wonder if it was too soon to kiss her goodnight.

  He’d known her less than an hour. He figured it probably was too soon.

  ‘Great,’ he said as he resisted temptation and waited for her to unlock her door to her ground-floor apartment. He had no reason to delay the farewell any longer. ‘I’ll meet you here at ten.’

  * * *

  He headed towards his bed, feeling unexpectedly hopeful and positive.

  Snow blanketed the ground beneath his boots but the evening sky was clear and dark. There were no clouds and no moon but hundreds of tiny stars studded the darkness, relieving the blackness. He stopped outside the bar and the background hum of the alpine resort village faded as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh mountain air. The scent of snow gums, wood smoke and barbeque filled his nose.

  He stood still for a moment longer, soaking up the atmosphere.

  The lights reflected off the snow as the machine operators traversed the slopes, smoothing out the ski runs ready for tomorrow, but he turned his back on the runs and looked instead past the chalets and buildings of the Wombat Gully Ski Resort and further up the mountain where the stately snow gums lined the ski runs. They stood sentinel, their trunks smooth and ghostly white, lit only by the light coming from the lodges. There was no wind to rustle their leaves, the air was still and so was he.

  He knew he was okay. He’d kept things together for two years and had come through the worst of it. He was managing as a single parent. It wasn’t easy, far from it, but it was getting better. He had a routine, he had good support and he and his daughter had formed their own duo. Three had become two but two was okay. They were doing all right. Two was better than one. And he had a career he loved. He knew it could be all-consuming but it had saved him from depression and misery and had given him something else to focus on. Between his work and Ella, he had everything he needed. Not everything he wanted but life was good. He was doing okay.

  Opening his eyes, he took in the natural beauty that surrounded him and thought, for the first time in years, that it was good to be alive. No, not thought but believed. There was a difference.

  He breathed out and his warm breath condensed into white puffs of steam in the frigid air. He’d put his life on hold since Margie’s unexpected death, concentrating on his daughter and on his career, and his personal life had been largely ignored. Perhaps it was time to look to the future.

  Patrick ignored the drone of the snow groomers and the constant thrumming of the snow-making machines and the music drifting into the night from the bar behind him—none of that was anything to do with him—as his thoughts drifted back to Charli. He would meet her for brunch. It felt odd to be organising a date but also exciting. After that he would return to Melbourne but at least he would have taken a step forward. A step towards a future. He and Ella couldn’t remain a pair for ever, he didn’t believe that was healthy. To move forward he had to get back into the dating game. But he wanted to do it on his terms. He wanted to wait until he felt a connection with someone. Charli was a promising start.

  ‘Hey, Pat, you calling it a night?’

  Pat turned, his self-reflection interrupted by Connor Green, one of his colleagues, who was headed his way.

  ‘Yep.’ He waited to see if Connor had been sent to try to persuade him to return to the bar. He was out of luck if that was his mission. The team was close-knit and Pat had become good friends with his teammates over the years. They’d provided great support to him, but he wanted a clear head for tomorrow.

  ‘Me too,’ Connor replied.

  A sudden gust of wind swirled around Pat as Connor spoke, startling him after the extraordinary stillness of the night. A noise similar to that of a jet engine roared behind them, its sound swallowing the background noise, and the ground shook beneath their feet. Pat looked up but the sky was just as dark as before. He could see nothing untoward but the rumble continued, the ground unsteady, testing their balance. He felt his heart rate accelerate as he turned around, his eyes glued to the mountain, searching for the source of the noise, his gut telling him it wasn’t a plane.

  Was it an avalanche? Even though they’d spent hours on avalanche training he’d never heard, or seen, one. They were a rare occurrence in Australia.

  His eyes scanned the slopes, glancing over the buildings as he looked towards the tree line. Ironbark Lodge sat highest on the mountain and he could see it silhouetted against the snow, its windows lit up against the night sky. He saw the lights waver and flicker as though candles illuminated the glass instead of electricity. And then the lights disappeared, leaving the lodge in darkness.

  Pat looked down the mountain, expecting a complete power outage, but the other buildings remained bright. Movement in the corner of his eye
drew his gaze up again.

  He blinked.

  Ironbark Lodge looked as if it was moving.

  He must be more tired than he thought. He shook his head and rubbed one hand across his eyes before opening them again. He must be seeing things.

  No. He wasn’t. The lodge was definitely moving.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ It took him a moment to process what he was looking at and meanwhile Ironbark Lodge continued to move. He watched on in horror and disbelief as the lodge slid down the side of the mountain.

  Snowgum Chalet sat directly in its path.

  He took off, sprinting along the icy paths, retracing his steps from moments before, running right into the path of the disaster.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘AMY?’ CHARLI CALLED from the darkness of the bedroom.

  She’d fallen asleep quickly with a smile on her lips as she’d thought about having brunch with Patrick but had been woken abruptly by the wind. ‘Amy, are you there? Can you hear that?’

  The wind was loud. So loud it sounded like it was rushing through the apartment. At first, she’d thought the noise was the bathroom fan but as it continued to increase in volume she realised it wasn’t coming from the bathroom but was moving closer. It sounded like it was coming for her. She sat up just as a loud explosion split the air and her heart leapt as the unexpected sound shattered the night.

  What was that? A gas cylinder exploding? A car backfiring?

  The windows of the apartment rattled as she reached for the bedside lamp. The whole bed was shaking and it took her two attempts to find the switch. A backfiring car wouldn’t shake the bed.

  But an avalanche might.

  ‘Amy?’ she called again, louder this time, as she finally turned on the light.

  Was Amy home or was she still in the bar? Charli was about to get out of bed to look for her when the lights went out, engulfing her in darkness.

  The noise hadn’t stopped, it had only intensified.

  It was incredible. It sounded like a freight train, which was impossible as there was no train on the mountain. Her next thought was perhaps it was one of the snow-grooming machines. Had someone lost control? And then, cutting through the noise, she heard screams.

  ‘Amy?’

  She leapt out of bed, stumbling in the darkness.

  The noise was deafening now. Windows shattered and she heard glass hit the floor. Timbers were cracking and metal twisted and screeched, hurting her ears. She could hear bricks falling and over it all the noise of the wind and the screams continued.

  Instinctively she threw her hands over her head as she took another step forward before her legs gave way beneath her. She didn’t realise that it wasn’t her legs but the floor that had disappeared from under her, and then there was nothing.

  No light. No sound and only very slight vibrations. The wind had stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the room was no longer shaking violently, but she still couldn’t see and, much worse, she still couldn’t hear a sound. Even the screams had been silenced.

  ‘Amy?’

  She coughed as she inhaled a mouthful of dust and it stuck on her tongue.

  ‘Are you there?’

  There was only silence. Had Amy come home? Was she there?

  Charli had no idea. It was awfully quiet.

  Deathly quiet.

  The room had stopped shaking and was now resting quietly in the dark. But the sudden silence wasn’t peaceful or calming, it was frightening. What had happened?

  The air was frigid. The temperature had dropped and the floor beneath her legs was cold and damp. The bedroom was carpeted but the carpet was now flooded and icy water swirled around her. She could feel it and it chilled her to the bone, but she had no idea where it had come from.

  ‘Hello. Is anyone there?’ she yelled, choking on the thick dust that seemed to be hanging in the air.

  She tried to stand up but smacked her head on something hard before she could fully straighten her knees. She swore out loud and rubbed her forehead above her left eye. A lump was already forming from the collision. She crouched down and reached up with one hand. She felt concrete under her fingers. Was that the ceiling? Why was it so low?

  She squatted on the floor as she tried to figure out what had happened. Had the ceiling collapsed? God, she hoped not. Amy’s apartment was on the ground floor of a four-storey building.

  What had happened? It was impossible to tell. The darkness made it impossible to get her bearings, impossible to work out what had happened and what was going on.

  She reached out carefully, not knowing what she might find.

  There was nothing in front of her so she crawled towards the door, or to where she thought the door was. Her hands were immersed in the freezing cold water and her fingers were going numb. She was dressed only in a T-shirt and knickers, clothes that were warm enough to sleep in while the central heating worked, but it offered no protection in her current situation.

  She stretched her hands out and shuffled forward on her knees. There was an overpowering smell of diesel fumes and overflowing toilets. She didn’t want to know what she was crawling through.

  Something sharp grazed her calf but she pressed on, hands outstretched in front of her.

  It felt like she’d gone no further than a few feet before she ran into a wall. She was sure the door had to be there somewhere. She moved sideways, still calling Amy’s name, as she felt for a gap, her fingers searching for the door frame. She cried out as something pierced her palm, slicing into the flesh beneath her right thumb. The wound throbbed and she could feel blood running down to her elbow. She ignored the warm blood as she felt more frantically for the doorway but there was no gap. Instead she found herself wedged into a corner.

  She was confused, disoriented but she continued to inch her way around the room.

  She kept her hands outstretched, fearful of hitting her head again in the darkness. She breathed in the putrid, frigid air as she crawled through the darkness.

  Her hands met more cold concrete. It was rough under her fingers, the smooth walls obliterated, leaving what felt like a pile of rubble. The ceiling pressed down on her head, making her feel claustrophobic. She fought back a wave of panic. Where was she? Nothing was familiar.

  ‘Amy? Are you here?’ She was sobbing now, crying salty tears that ran down her cheeks and mingled with the dust that caked her mouth.

  She forced herself to keep moving. She couldn’t stay still. She had to find a way out of there before she froze to death.

  She moved a few more feet and her fingers made contact with smooth metal. Was that the bed frame? Had she done a full circle? The bed had a high metal bed head. She traced the frame. The poles were bent, the frame leaning in towards the centre of the bed. She reached up and felt the ceiling. Somehow the metal bed head was supporting the ceiling. A concrete ceiling that should be five feet above her head, not several inches.

  How had the bed not collapsed completely?

  She was lucky she hadn’t been crushed, she thought, before she had a more terrifying realisation. But what about Amy? Where was her sister? What might have happened to her?

  ‘Amy?’ she whispered. Scared now of what she might not hear. Listening in hope for her sister’s voice.

  Still nothing.

  The carpet was sodden and sludgy under her knees. Crawling through freezing mud and water in the dark wasn’t getting her anywhere. She needed to see. She needed light. She felt for the bedside table, reaching for her mobile phone that had been resting on top. She desperately needed the flashlight function, but her hand met empty air. There was no table and she could only assume her phone now lay submerged in the vile water that lapped at her thighs.

  She moved around the other side of the bed, only to find herself in another dead end. There was no way around this. She was trapped in a windowless, flooded tomb. />
  How had she ended up here?

  What had happened?

  Had a snow groomer crashed into their apartment? What had happened to the apartments above?

  She had no idea.

  All she knew was that she was trapped, buried alive.

  She wanted to scream but the air was still so cold and so thick with dust she didn’t want to breathe it in.

  Stay calm. Think.

  She wanted to be warm.

  Crawling back to the bed, she curled into a ball and tucked her injured hand under her armpit in an attempt to stop the bleeding and to warm herself up. She tugged the quilt over her, it was cold but dry and although she still wasn’t warm at least she wasn’t sitting in that filthy water.

  She closed her eyes as she tried to figure out what to do. She wanted to get out of there but had no idea how she would achieve that.

  Amy would know.

  She let her tears flow as she lay in the darkness.

  She wanted her sister.

  * * *

  Pat only had one thought as he ran towards Snowgum Chalet.

  Charli.

  He had to warn her. Had to get her out.

  He skidded to a stop and gulped a lungful of frigid air as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

  Ironbark Lodge was sliding almost gracefully down the slope, seemingly with no great urgency, keeping pace with the eucalyptus trees that were falling alongside it. It left a dark smear of mud in its wake as it pushed the snow ahead like a gigantic snowplough. The bottom floors of the building were pushed out as it gathered momentum and the upper levels toppled backwards. The accompanying sound was an agonising, horrific cracking of timbers, an explosion of glass, a high-pitched shrieking of twisting metal and devastating human cries, but still the lodge continued to slide down the slope in front of him, heading straight for Snowgum Chalet. And Charli.

  There was nothing he could do and he watched helplessly as the disaster unfolded before him until, with a sickening crash, the two lodges collided. Pat took a step forward, hopelessly, helplessly, as Snowgum Chalet collapsed like a deck of cards and the third and fourth stories crushed the floors below and sent a cloud of white concrete dust into the air.