Trapped with the Blizzard (Tellure Hollow Book 4)

by Adele Huxley

  “That girl is lashing out at the world. She’s hating everything and everyone, starting first and foremost with herself.”

  I had to concede that point, having known the feeling all too well. “I figured I’d be able to related to her, show her it honestly does get better. Hell, if I can have a normal life after coming from all the stuff in my past, she has the whole world in the palm of her hand.”

  Walt turned towards me, resting a weathered hand on Jack’s head. “And think back to when you were that age. Would you have listened? Was there anyone who could’ve gotten through?”

  “Well, yeah, my dad. I never rebelled against him,” I thought, seeing it from a different angle this time. “It was more that I rebelled around him.”

  Walt nodded as if he’d suspected as much. “And can you think of why that was?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek and stared out into the darkness. The winds were calmer, but there were many hours before dawn and the end of the storm. An eerie orange glow flickered above us on the mountain. The rentals were on fire, the embers carried on the gusts like deadly fireflies. All it would take is one of those sparks to make its way down here… I shook my head to clear my mind of the morbid thoughts.

  “I guess what I always loved about my dad was how he spoke to me like an adult. Even when Mom got sick, he was always so upfront and honest. He figured if we were dealing with some pretty deep, dark stuff, he might as well teach me how to confront it.” I hugged Jack closer. Mom had tried her best to shield me from her illness, especially at the end. I hadn’t thought much about it, but I understood why for the first time in my life. I would do the same for Jack.

  Walt sat back and patted my knee. “Exactly. You treat her like a child, you get a child. You expect her to act like an adult, and she will… eventually.”

  I spotted Bryan on the opposite side of the room. His stature and the red headlamp gave him away. Our lodge had transformed into a dark, damp, cold refugee camp. Every time he helped someone out, another problem would come up. And another, and another. He has such a good way with people, I thought.

  “Bryan connects with her,” I said almost to myself.

  “Don’t doubt that,” Walt grumbled in return.

  “We’re trying for another baby,” I blurted.

  “That’s a fine idea. Make sure Jacky doesn’t grow up to be a spoiled only child.”

  “I’m an only child.”

  “Exactly.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Seriously, though. How selfish is it to bring a baby into this family? I feel responsible enough putting Jack through all this and he won’t remember a thing.”

  “You two love with all your hearts, everyone can see that. Heck, you’re parenting the hell out of this whole town. Any child would be lucky to be called Marsh.”

  The sentiment nearly brought me to tears again. “Thank you. Love you, too, old man,” I said as I stood. I gave him a one-armed hug and left him alone on the sofa. With the lights out entirely, the room was dimly lit by the low light of the fires and a smattering of flashlights. With Jack in my arms, I made my way over to Bryan. I didn’t even need a light to see how exhausted he was.

  “Hey sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked with relief. “I didn’t know where you went off to.” Bryan hooked his arm around Jack and pulled me close with the other.

  My little family. “Just getting a little pep talk from the grumpiest person in the room,” I chuckled. “I’m kidnapping you,” I said as I pulled him to the center of the room.

  Bryan resisted a little. “No, I need to…”

  “You need to sleep. You’ve been awake and running around longer than is healthy. You won’t be able to help anyone if you don’t at least get a couple hours.”

  I could feel him relax, almost as if he’d been waiting for permission to give into the weariness. I led him back to our little spot on the floor, now smaller with more people encroaching on our space. We lay down with Jack between us and pulled the blankets up. I wondered where Dani had gone off to but pushed the thought away…

  I’m sure she’s watching over Miah. Best to leave her alone for now… was my last thought before drifting off to sleep.

  Every gust of wind made me wince. The whistling, howling sound of it whipping around the lodge was never-ending. Bundled and wrapped in as many layers as we could manage, we waited for it to all be over. No one could sleep. Well, no one except Walt who was snoring away without a care in the world.

  Bryan lay beside me, his eyes closed and peaceful, but I could tell by his breathing he was wide awake. Jack nestled in between us, a perfect little angel considering how chaotic the past few days had been.

  I’d stopped checking the clock. Dawn was never going to come as long as I watched the minutes tick by. So I had no idea what time it was when the ceiling collapsed in the hallway. We all jumped at a loud crash followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering across the floor. A few screams echoed across the hall before the room went silent again.

  I glanced down to Bryan who hadn’t even opened his eyes. “What now?” he asked wearily. With a groan, he rolled to his side and climbed to his feet like a zombie. After placing Jack in Walt’s arms, I followed him to the hall. Having a newborn is at least good training for sleep deprivation, I thought as I stumbled behind.

  A pile of debris scattered across the floor: wood, glass, snow. A gaping hole in the ceiling exposed us to the raging storm above and for the first time, I realized we should’ve been thinking about it all piling up on the roof. Fifteen feet of heavy, wet snow weighing down.

  “Oh shit, Bryan,” I said as I grabbed his arm. “Is this whole place going to come down on us?”

  Chris approached from the opposite side of the hallway, from the direction of the rental area. The three of us surveyed the damage while a stream of onlookers steadily piled in behind us. They’d expected mayhem; maybe a thrown brick, or a Molotov cocktail. When they found a hole and a bunch of snow on the ground, they were thankful for the mundane danger… not the arsonist. They could handle anything but the arsonist. This was typical deadly blizzard stuff Liz and Bryan could take care of.

  “The roof is sloped at a pretty steep angle. This spot here was flat, wasn’t it?”

  I shrugged, trying to pull up a hazy memory of the exterior. “I have no idea.”

  “There’s nothing we can do to clean this up,” Bryan said with a shake of his head. We watched as Chris toed his way through the broken glass towards us.

  “I can try to put a tarp up if you want, boss. It’ll at least stop the snow from coming in.”

  Weary doesn’t begin to describe how I felt about every knock down we took. I had hit a state of numb acceptance. Santa fucking Claus himself could’ve crashed through the front door with all his crappy reindeer and I would’ve just rolled with it, no questions asked.

  “We’ll have a foot of snow in here by… wait a second. Are there other places on the roof that are…”

  Chris jumped in, like an overeager kid with an idea. I normally hated it when people cut in while I was talking, but I was too tired to say anything. “Boss, sorry to interrupt but…” He looked between us apologetically before continuing. “I was thinking. With the power out now and the winds picking up, and now with the busted up roof...” He wrung his hands together while he shifted back and forth on his feet.

  “Go on, finish your thought,” Bryan urged.

  “I was thinking maybe it would be a good idea to get everyone all in the Great Hall for the rest of the storm. We can conserve the wood by heating the one room and…”

  Bryan was already nodding. “The extra body heat will keep us warm, too. That’s a good idea. Why don’t you spread the word and Liz and I can help move people around again.”

  “There’s one more thing,” he said, his gaze shifty between us. “I found these old curtains down in one of the storage rooms, probably something from before the place was remodeled. They’re still a little wet, but I think if we put �
�em up, it’ll cut down on the drafts.”

  “Every little bit helps,” I agreed. “Get a few of the others to help you put them up as soon as we can. People aren’t going to like us blocking out the daylight come tomorrow morning, but once the winds pick up, we’ll be glad to have the extra heat.”

  December 25th

  Liz was acting like the queen of Tellure Hollow again, strutting around, telling people what to do as if we’d ceased living in a free society. As if we hadn’t sacrificed enough already, she was demanding we all squeeze in further so every person scattered across the lodge could fit inside the Great Hall. We were already practically sitting in each other’s laps. As news of this spread, there were a few grumbles, but most seemed to understand the logic of it.

  Miah and I leaned against the wall, a blanket wrapped around our shoulders, sharing a pair of ear buds. We held hands but didn’t speak, listened to his music, and tried not to exist in this moment. But I couldn’t stop watching Liz prance about, throwing out commands like edicts.

  “She fucking loves it,” I muttered as I squinted at her. “How can no one else see it?”

  Miah pulled the ear bud away. “Why do you hate her so much?”

  Even in my own head, I railed against the word. Hate. “I don’t hate her so much as dislike everything about her, her actions, and most everything she stands for.”

  He clicked his tongue against his teeth, something I’d learned meant he was trying not to laugh. “Sounds like hate to me.”

  Just then, a scuffle broke out at the far side of the room close to the kitchen. Liz had her hands up as she tried to calm a group of people down. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

  A chorus of shouts rang out, pulling more and more attention. “You can’t do this!”

  “As if being trapped in here isn’t bad enough!”

  We both sat straighter, trying to see what the fuss was about. I spotted that weird maintenance man climbing a ladder while hoisting up a heavy red curtain. That’s what the old women were complaining about.

  I watched as Liz tried to reason with them, but the mood of the room had shifted. I could feel the crowd turning against her. We were trapped animals, the inklings of cabin fever threading into our psyches like an infection. The space already felt small and now she was cramming us together in small quarters. On top of it, she was literally blotting out the sun, the last ray of hope they had left to cling to. We were all waiting for those few beams of sunlight come dawn, the sign that we’d made it through the hardest part.

  “This is about survival now. We don’t have heat or power…” she explained before some old bitch cut her off.

  “Really? Well thank God you were here to tell me that. Here I thought I was spending Christmas on the flippin’ French Riviera.” She smirked at her own crappy sarcasm.

  Hate. With that word still ringing in my ears, I quickly scanned the area and found no trace of Bryan or Walt.

  When my dad was hurt, I lost my innocence. I was no longer a naïve, fearless child, supremely and stupidly confident in the rights and wrongs of the world. But it wasn’t until I saw Liz fending off an entire town of angry people that I took my first real step into adulthood.

  I realized she didn’t have all the answers. No one did. A magical manual didn’t appear on your birthday explaining the ins and outs of being an adult. Everyone did the best they could… just like me. I realized the pressure and hatred and anger I’d pinned on her, my mother, even my father, all came from the idea that they should’ve known better. They were the adults after all. I was just the kid… In one shitty moment, at the peak of the most stressful time in my life, it all clicked. And that sucked. Compassion and the bitter rage I’d cultivated for so long mixed like oil and water, but there it was anyway.

  “Shit,” I hissed as the realization deepened. I think my heart-to-heart with Miah had softened me. At least, that’s what I blamed my sudden burst of empathy on. “I’ll go help her.” Miah grabbed my sleeve as I stood. Even though I protested, he insisted on coming along. As we drew closer, she continued to plead with them.

  Liz’s eyes darted to mine as we came alongside. She studied my face as if wondering which side of this fight we were going to land on. “Dorothy, please. We need to conserve as much heat as possible. I want to see the sunlight as much as you, but it’s best for everyone if…”

  “I don’t give two flying hoots about everyone else. This is imprisonment. You’ve locked us in here and now you’re throwing away the key.” She was growing spitting mad. I was surprised to see Liz almost calmly take it, the muscles in her jaw working as she fought to keep it shut. So I jumped in instead.

  “Whoa, lady, calm yourself. Your dentures are about to catch fire if you keep going on that fast,” I said, putting a hand up. You could almost feel the air leave the room as I spoke. It was a sensation I lived for and for once, I could use it for the power of good.

  Dorothy stammered a few times, her yellowed eyes wide with shock. “You, my… you’re the little wretch who nearly upchucked on me.”

  I gave her a tight smile and nodded towards the exit. “You’re free to leave at any time. There’s the door.” She looked at me blankly as if I’d just spoke in Swahili. “You said you’re being held captive. That must be very scary for you,” I drawled. “You can go. Right now. Right out that door there. Best of luck to you.”

  The woman finally seemed to get my point. She rolled her eyes and huffed, but refused to say anything.

  “Thank you, Dani, but I…” Liz started to say, but I wasn’t done with the ungrateful old woman yet.

  “So, Liz here didn’t break into your house, kidnap you in the middle of the night, drag you up here, force feed you a lovely Christmas dinner, and chain you to a radiator in a tiny closet?” I stared at her, willing her to answer. “No? Then why don’t you shut the hell up? These people have done nothing but save your sorry ass and this is how you repay them?” I was surprised at the anger in my voice and only stopped when Miah put a hand to my back.

  The tension pulsed for a few seconds before slipping away entirely. The crowd that had gathered around Liz crumbled as Dorothy turned without a word. I watched her retreat, mulling over a few choice things I wanted to throw back at her. A bully was a bully no matter the age.

  “Thank you for standing up for me,” Liz said with tears in her eyes. I’d meant it. I knew she and Bryan had done everything they could to keep the town alive and safe, but it didn’t mean I was ready to show it. I clenched my teeth together, trapping the emotions I felt deep inside. She reached out for my hand, but I wrenched it away.

  “Yeah, whatever.” I could feel the tears welling in my own eyes. The last thing I wanted or needed was to start bawling in front of everyone.

  “Dani,” Miah called out as I stomped off.

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute,” I replied with a wave over my shoulder.

  I made my way to the dark kitchen, to the spot where Miah had been laid. Because of some strange structural design, it was one of the few rooms on the ground floor that wasn’t covered in snow. The wind whipped past these windows, tearing the snow away and piling it up somewhere else.

  My throat tightened with emotions I absolutely hated feeling. This is why I shut people out. Because I can’t stand this feeling… or feeling anything at all.

  I’m not sure how long I stood there staring out of the window, imagining the tiny patch of blue sky I’d be able to see come day. I tried to ignore the orange glow from the fires all around us, denying it as part of my reality. I hadn’t been outside in nearly a day and facing another night trapped inside with over a hundred other people wasn’t an appealing prospect. Something in me snapped. I needed to go outside, to feel the wind on my face, even for a minute or two.

  I snatched one of the dark camping lanterns the staff had left behind. I tested it, checked behind to make sure no one was watching, and slipped down a pitch-black hall. The door I found was normally used for deliveries brought direct
ly into the kitchen, but today, it would be my freedom. I pushed hard, thinking the door was going to be wedged shut with snow, but thanks to a protective awning, it easily swung open.

  I expected to be hit in the face with a blast of wind. I closed my eyes and stepped outside fully prepared to be smacked with stinging snow. Instead, I found myself in the middle of a quiet maze. Liz and Bryan had made sure a team of people kept up with the snow removal on paths surrounding the lodge. Even so, I had to walk through a couple inches of snow that had fallen since the last shoveling.

  The soft cushion of snow towered above me, reminding me of corn mazes my dad took me to in the autumn when I was little. The white walls seemed to glow with a strange, shifting light from the lantern. The snow absorbed every sound, even the wind above. The sky was an odd orange hue, the low clouds reflecting the light from Tellure Hollow below. With the lantern held at arm’s length, I started down the path before me.

  The sheer volume of snow made the dreamy scene otherworldly. I ran my fingers along the sides, the path narrow enough I could touch both sides at once. Snow crumbled along as I slowly walked, coming to a split in the path. The right side carried on around the back towards the barns while the left continued towards the front.

  I’ll just do a quick loop and get back in before anyone misses me, I thought.

  The sidewalk had probably been cleared in a straight line to begin with. After almost two days of inconsistent shoveling, it’d become a weaving, serpentine path. Little bumps and crevices along the walls blocked a clear line of sight. The walls made it feel a little claustrophobic, but it all looked so surreal I didn’t massively freak out. It was impossible to believe that only a few days before, this entire area had been clear and open, the ticket booths packed with people waiting to get on the slopes.

  It only took a minute to make my way through the single-lane maze and to the front doors. I stole a quick glance to the right before I turned. The groomers Bryan had used to clear the parking lot and search for Miah sat at the close corner. I didn’t want to go right back in, so I turned towards the parking lot, walking past the chair where Miah had been found. It was now nearly buried.