This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was supposed to be fun. But the buffering wind and shuddering windows made it so far from fun, she could barely breathe. According to the pilot, a private picnic on the west summit of one of Canada’s highest peaks had never been done before. But Milton had charmed the man with his expert manipulation skills and fistfuls of money. So much so that the pilot simply couldn’t refuse.
Twelve thousand dollars had been his tipping point. For that, not only did they get a private helicopter, but the pilot also provided expensive champagne, a gourmet feast, and a folding table and three chairs, ready to be set up wherever they wanted.
Milton was capable of convincing anyone to do anything. Of that she was certain. Her being on Whisky Mountain was a testament to that. With her record, she never did anything that even hinted at danger.
Death had a way of following her. Her brother died as a three-week-old baby. Her father went to work one day and never came home. Her best friend died in a freak accident that had perplexed all the authorities. Even her one and only pet didn’t make it past puppy stage. And Holly was only twenty-four years old. Based on that average, once every five or so years, she was due again. She smacked the disturbing statistic away and shielded the sun from her eyes to look up at the mountain peak.
The snow-capped granite wall jutted skyward like an enormous shark fin. It was an interesting color, like the rocks were gilded in copper. She wondered if that’s why it’d been named Whisky Mountain. With each meter they rose, it appeared to grow wider and higher and the very tip glistened like a diamond.
As the helicopter shot over the ski resort’s highest cable car station, leaving behind the last signs of civilization, her dread hit a whole new level. The white terrain stretched as far as she could see. Even the trees had given up trying to live here.
When Holly had suggested to Milton that they take a holiday, she’d imagined lying in hammocks on a deserted beach, sipping fancy drinks out of coconuts. Not this. Not high in the mountains where snow and ice blanketed every surface. Cold weather had a way of seeping into her bones. Her mother said it was because she didn’t eat enough. Her fiancé said it was because she didn’t eat meat. Ever since their first date, two years ago, Milton had been trying to coax her off her strict vegetarian diet.
“Having fun?” Milton beamed at her. His eyes were hidden behind mirrored glasses, but she could picture that dazzle of excitement in his brown irises.
“It’s magnificent.” She dodged his question. The last thing she’d do was voice her fear, not when he looked to be enjoying it so much. And especially not in front of Milton’s son, who’d commandeered the front seat next to the pilot. Kane had visited more countries in his seventeen years than Holly had dreamed of. The teenager was a spoiled brat who knew how to incite bitter arguments between his estranged parents, and he did it often.
Kane hated Holly. He blamed her for breaking up his parents’ marriage. She hadn’t. Their marriage was fractured long before Milton strolled into Holly’s organic produce store. Holly had suggested to Milton that this holiday would be the perfect opportunity for Kane to get to know her better. She was desperate to prove to Milton’s son that she was worthy of his father’s love. At least, that’d been her plan.
The helicopter crested another peak, and other than the occasional jagged rock, snow covered every surface, the pure white almost blinding. The mountain loomed in the near distance, and instead of marveling over its majestic grandeur, Holly felt its ominous presence as if it were a demon.
The first three days of their holiday had been a mixture of heaven and hell. Milton being the heaven and Kane being the latter. The kid was driven to steal Milton’s attention at every opportunity and voiced his anger at Holly frequently. Kane had already demonstrated his willingness to stand over her whenever his father wasn’t looking. He was taller than her, which wasn’t hard, given that she was only five foot three. He was heavier too, almost twice her weight.
This helicopter ride and proposed mountaintop picnic was Milton’s idea. His grand plan of alpine seclusion meant they’d have no distractions and would be practically forced to talk to each other. Maybe that’s what was driving Holly’s fear. So far, her attempts at conversation with the cantankerous teenager had resulted in either insults or silence.
The helicopter banked sharply to the left and Holly clutched Milton’s wrist. Either he didn’t notice her grip or he was too engrossed in the scenery out his window; whichever it was, he didn’t look her way. Kane whooped from the front seat, obviously feeling none of the apprehension Holly felt. The pilot maneuvered the chopper through a couple of twin peaks that skyrocketed into the air like dueling monoliths.
The second they crossed the threshold, wind slammed into the windshield like buckshot. Her padded headphones were no match for the thunderous roar, and her seat shuddered, as did everything else. Holly clamped Milton’s wrist harder and the vibrations rattled every bone in her body.
From her vantage point she watched the pilot’s white-knuckled wrestle with the gear stick. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his eyes bulging. And in that instant, Holly knew her premonition was about to be realized.
They plummeted, and when the chopper ricocheted off the icy surface, she screamed. One of the helicopter’s skids must’ve snagged on a rock or something, because the aircraft pitched sideways like it’d been punched in the gut. The spinning rotors sliced at the snow and splintered into hundreds of missiles.
Kane screamed. As did the pilot.
They hit the snow nose first, and with a thunderous roar a giant chunk of ice fell away, opening an enormous crevice. The dark gash cut a swath through the white surface and the chopper plunged into it.
Kane screamed as he hurled through the shattered windshield and disappeared into the dark hole. The chopper flipped in a violent spin and Holly smashed against the side of the cabin. Her door sprang open, spitting her from safety, and she shrieked as she fell. She slammed into something solid that punched the wind out of her. Every bone crunched upon impact. Her face hit the wall and an explosion of pain ripped through her brain.
She fought agony.
She fought blackness.
A squeal in her ears pierced her conscience. It was a couple of thundering heartbeats before she remembered what’d happened.
The crash.
The gaping hole in the snow.
Falling from the helicopter.
The pain. All the excruciating pain.
She forced herself to focus through the torture. Her tongue seemed foreign, as did her lips, and she swallowed back the metallic taste of blood.
Agonizing screams lured her from her own horror.
For a couple of panic-stricken heartbeats she thought she was blind. But it was blood in her eyes causing the darkness. She tried to reach up to wipe it away, but her left arm was a useless lump at her side.
Screams echoed from every angle.
Milton!
Alert now, she forced her body to move. Gasping at the pain and fighting dizziness, she dragged herself upright. With her right glove she wiped blood from her eyes. “Milton.” She tried to speak but either no words came out or she couldn’t hear.
“Milton!”
Blinking away blood, she deciphered shapes and shadows. Pain and terror produced tears that cleared her eyes. About fifteen feet above, to her right, the helicopter loomed. The craft was jammed into the crevice, trapped by walls of ice. It was tilted sideways with the nose wedged against one side and the tail on the other. Inside, the pilot’s face was loaded with agony. It was his screams that echoed in the frozen chasm.
“Milton.” Her voice was a brittle croak and she swallowed back another mouthful of blood.
As her eyes took in her situation, her brain struggled to comprehend it. Holly had fallen into the crevice. The ledge she’d landed on was barely two feet wide. Milton and Kane
had fallen from the helicopter too. But she couldn’t see either of them.
Gripping with her gloved fingers, she dragged herself forward and peered into the void below.
“Milton!” His crumpled body was a bloody blemish on a lower ledge on the opposite side of the chasm. His legs were bent at shocking angles. He was only fifteen feet away, yet it might as well have been a thousand.
“Milton.”
He didn’t move.
“Milton!” Despite the pain in her jaw she yelled his name.
The pilot’s screams made it impossible to hear anything else.
Holly panted against her pain and rolled onto her stomach. She stared at Milton’s body, begging for a sign of life. Dark red blood tainted the ice around him. He was facedown, but his head was turned her way. He looked peaceful. Like he was sleeping.
“Milton.”
The pilot’s screams changed . . . more shrill, more desperate.
Holly looked up at the chopper and her heart leapt to her throat. Flames licked the inside of the cabin. The pilot fought the blaze with his bare hands. His screams cut to her core and she tore her eyes away. Shielding her ears with her gloves, she rolled away from the edge and squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the horror.
An explosion ripped the helicopter apart.
Metal and giant chunks of ice rained down on her. She curled into a ball, covered her ears, and prepared to die.
Thousands of missiles pelted her already battered body. Her hip and back suffered the brunt of it. Searing pain burned her face. But it was over as quickly as it started. The ensuing silence was deafening. It took Holly a few heartbeats to convince herself she was still alive. Ice and snow weighed her down and she wrestled herself free.
With the chopper gone, sunlight permeated the crevice. Blinking against the glare, she crawled to the edge again and looked down. A sob caught in her throat.
Milton was gone.
The plummeting chopper carcass had swiped the opposite side, taking Milton and his narrow ice ledge with it. She burst into tears. It hurt like hell as great racking sobs shuddered through her.
It was an eternity before the tears stopped and the enormity of her situation hit her.
She pushed back from the edge, and glanced to her left.
What she saw made a scream tear through her like rusty razor blades.
Her world tilted, darkness crept in, she fell sideways.
Everything went black.
Meet the Author
Kendall Talbot is the author of the Maximum Exposure series, and many other action/adventure stories. She’s a thrill seeker, hopeless romantic, virtual killer, and award-winning author of stories that’ll have your heart thumping from action-packed suspense and steamy bedrooms scenes. She lives in Brisbane, Australia with her very own hero and a fluffy little dog who specializes in hijacking her writing time. Meanwhile, Kendall’s two sons are off making their own adventures—look out world.
Visit her at www.kendalltalbot.com.au.
Out of Reach Page 31