Intercepted

by J Q Anderson

  A few minutes later I load the food onto my tray and head over toward the first group. As I approach, I see the guy that was kissing the girl before, standing next to her. Whatever he is saying to her is holding her full attention, as well as the attention of the whole table. I’m vaguely curious and keep my eyes on him. Then he suddenly drops to one knee. I freeze to my spot.

  No he’s not.

  His back is to me and even though I don’t see his face, I know he’s smiling as he retrieves something from his pocket. Then the four words I hate the most in this world come out of his mouth.

  Will.

  You.

  Marry.

  Me.

  I can’t breathe. My throat is swollen shut and I’m pretty sure now that this is a nightmare. One of those where you show up to school naked and everyone laughs. I know it is that dream because the whole lounge is now staring at me. My eyes, wide with shock, sweep the room, then flicker to my feet, which are now covered with a slimy substance that looks a lot like the buffalo chicken sauce from the appetizer I was carrying a minute ago. Dani appears at my side and takes quick inventory of the situation. Her expression falls when she sees the guy still on one knee.

  “Jesus. Let’s go,” she says.

  I say nothing and let her pull me away as one of the other waitresses approaches with a broom.

  “I shouldn’t have let you come to work today, Nati. I’m sorry. Sometimes I totally suck as a friend.”

  I shake my head. Words fail me and I begin to cry as she tugs me into the back supply area.

  “Are you alright?” She grimaces, because I’m obviously not.

  “I’m so sorry, Dani.” I wipe my tears furiously. I hate that I’m crying. Then I try to push past her, but she stops me. I look up at her worried eyes. “I have to go clean that up.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” She frowns. “Tate’s got it.” She then lets out a heavy sigh. “Natalia. Take the rest of the shift off. I’ll tell Sarah you’re sick. Tate and I will cover for you.”

  I shake my head. “No. I can handle it.”

  She gives me a pitiful look that tells me she knows I can’t. “Go work out. Don’t go skiing, but maybe a workout will be good. Or just open one of the bottles we brought from the party last night and get shitfaced. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.”

  I give her a slight nod. She’s right. I can’t handle the rest of my shift. Not if I want to keep my job.

  I lumber back to my room. I can’t go work out if I’m supposed to be sick enough to leave mid-shift. I also don’t feel like getting drunk by myself, which doesn’t leave me with a lot of options.

  On my bed, my cellphone lights up, showing another string of text and voice messages from Marc. I send it flying across the room and watch it crash against the wall. I immediately realize how stupid that was. That solves the Marc message problem, but I won’t get any calls from the internship hotel either. I clutch my hair and drop on the bed face down, then let myself cry hard. I cry for what feels like a long time, and at some point I fall asleep.

  A tug from my waist as I stir wakes me. I reach down and realize my apron is tangled underneath me. I am still wearing my work uniform. The room is dark, just faint slanted threads of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds. Dani is still not back. I go to the bathroom and get into my PJs before going back to bed.

  I lie under the covers staring at the ceiling. I’m sick of being in this room and am now wide awake from the long nap. The clock says its eleven in the evening. Chances are most of the evening staff is still working and Sarah, the manager, has left for the day. Without a second thought, I dash to the closet and pull out my ski clothes.

  Half an hour later, I am flying down the familiar night runs, feeling free for the first time since I left. It is freezing and the wind is picking up, so I need to hurry if I want to make it down to the base before the visibility is fully gone.

  The familiar fatigue pulses in my legs, enhanced by my early visit to the slopes this morning, so I decide to take a safe way down. But as I traverse across I am faced once again with the Women’s Downhill. There is a full moon and the snow is bathed in a fluorescent glow. I repeat what I did this morning and stand, staring at the run that disappears into a sharp turn. And sure enough, the fear rises from within.

  I pull out the flask I stuck in my pocket and take a long swig of vodka. It burns as it slides down my throat, and I do it again. I’m not suicidal, but for some reason today seems like the right day to face the rest of my fears full on, and a sip or two of vodka will boost my courage.

  My first fear was that I might some day lose Marc. I realize now that it wasn’t only him I feared to lose, but the promise of the life I had always dreamed of. A life with all the safety that comes with money and the security of eternal love. For a moment, I wonder which I will miss the most. I laugh out loud because finally admitting this makes me the most pathetic person I’ve ever known. I take another swig of vodka and wipe my mouth with the back of my glove. Cold sweat trickles down my back as I stare down at the run.

  Fuck it.

  I push myself off the edge and bolt down the run at blazing speed. It is icy, so I’m going even faster than it is probably safe, but the courage from the alcohol erases all thoughts of potential risks.

  I fly down and it almost feels good, like I’m giving life the finger. The run is decently well lit by the moonlight and it vaguely diminishes the fear gripping my gut. Every muscle in my body is tense, focused only on what lies ahead. Needles of arctic air pierce my cheeks and lips, but the fear sends me flying forward.

  I make the first turn and nearly lose my balance. I don’t dwell on it and I don’t slow down. The run is icy in the areas where the sun has melted the snow in the morning and I try to steer to the opposite sides. But it’s dark and the blazing speed I am building makes it harder and harder to stay on top of every move I make. As I take the third turn the excessive ice build up causes me to lose my balance again. I half recover, but the momentum throws me off.

  The next five seconds happen in slow motion.

  Tango’s face flashes in my head as my weight shifts backward for a split second. It is just enough to cause the edge of my ski to brush against a tree branch. I veer to dodge the tree and whip sideways, my helmet bouncing hard against the ice. I am sliding face down at full speed, desperate to grip anything that will stop me. There’s nothing and as I go down my gloves scrape the surface of the ice, sending shards of white crystals against my face. I slide down for what feels like an eternity. I’ve lost both my skis somewhere back and not even my poles tangled around my wrists can slow me down. I hit a bump and something hard slams against my back. A sharp tug on my wrists yanks me to a stop.

  Pain lances through me.

  I can’t move.

  Both my hands are handcuffed by my pole straps into a protruding tree branch. I manage to raise my head and shake the snow off my face so I can breathe. Luckily it clears off easily. I vainly tug on my restraints. They burn as they cut the skin on my wrists. My whole body burns with exhaustion as I fight to stir around so I am facing up. Fire stretches down my arms and I slump my head back, letting the last few seconds register. My head is throbbing and my body is limp. Raw fear expands in my chest as I rake my brain for a way out. The only thing I know for sure is that I’m royally fucked. It’s so cold. The numbness seeps into me like ink.

  I close my eyes and let the darkness win.

  Chapter 14: Jake

  With all the paperwork signed and the plans approved I have nothing left to do in San Diego. Pete and I spend Saturday surfing at Swami’s, then visit the local surf shops to assess the competition. In the evening we go out to Union Bar for drinks. It’s swarming with locals and the atmosphere is fun and carefree. I know I’m going to like living in San Diego. It still keeps some of that authentic spirit of the old California that is already erased in L.A.. Sydney stayed at home with the baby, so it is just the two of us. Several women approach us and tr
y starting a conversation, but it’s guys night and Pete is married, so he smiles at them as he lifts his left hand to show off his ring. I am relieved. The only thing in my mind is how much I want to see Natalia. I imagine her playing poker with the staff and it makes me smile. She’s probably wiping them clean. I listen to the woman sitting in front of me, taking sips of her cosmopolitan as she tells me about a surf spot up north. Normally, I’d be into her. She has that surfer-girl look, shabby long blond hair, golden tanned skin even though it’s winter, and large blue eyes. But an image of Natalia in that plain black one piece is messing with my head and I have to look away. Pete shakes his head. He knows I’m fucked.

  I say goodbye to Pete and Sydney Sunday morning and head to the airport to catch a plane back to Aspen. I am not supposed to arrive until Wednesday evening, but the urge to see Natalia has turned into a need. Fortunately, the villa I have reserved is also available tonight and tomorrow, so I book it without pondering on how much this wild goose chase for Natalia is costing me.

  I scan the lobby area as I check in, knowing she’s probably working her shift at the lounge. Anticipation swells in my chest and I head toward that area to surprise her. Will she be happy to see me? I smile. Despite her hesitation the last time I saw her, something tells me she will be. I enter the lounge, wondering vaguely if she has been practicing swimming while I was gone. I slide my bag off my shoulder and take a seat at the bar. Zack acknowledges me with a nod and I order a beer. He fills a pint and slides it over. I thank him and make eye contact before he turns back to his other orders.

  “Is Natalia working tonight?’

  He stills for a moment and his eyes narrow a fraction. He seems protective of her. I wonder if they are good friends, or if he has other hopes as well.

  “She has the night off,” he finally says. “Why?”

  I nod, feigning indifference in case he’s, too, hoping for more with her. “She told me she’d be working tonight.”

  He eyes me for another moment. “She wasn’t feeling well,” he mutters. This gets my immediate attention. I lock eyes with him.

  “She okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” He nods, then turns around to attend an order from Natalia’s friend, Dani. I want to reach across the bar and grip him by the shirt to demand he tells me exactly what happened to Natalia. But when I look over at Dani she is eyeing me with an amused expression. I greet her with a nod and she acknowledges me with a smile. Zack says something to her, then rounds the bar and leaves to the back. I take the opportunity to see if Dani will give me more information.

  “Hey, is Natalia okay?” I ask.

  She raises her eyebrows in surprise.

  “Zack told me,” I say, pretending he shared more than this and in hopes that it will make Dani trust me.

  She gives me a nod, but seems skeptical. “Yeah. She went to bed early.”

  “Look, do you think I can see her for a minute? I’ve got something to tell her. Good news.” I smile, hoping she won’t call my act and figure out I’m full of shit. I just want to see her. Surprisingly, I seem to have said the right thing because she gives me a half-smile and glances at her watch.

  “Give me a sec.” She loads her tray and delivers the drinks, then walks over to the other waitress and says something while gesturing to the table she was serving. She wipes her hands on her apron and heads back in my direction.

  “Zack,” Amy is watching my table. Be back in a minute.”

  As he makes his way back behind the bar, Zack shoots a suspicious look at me. I smile in response and follow Dani to the employee wing.

  She tells me to wait outside their room and unlocks the door, closing it behind her. Less than fifteen seconds later the door swings open.

  “She’s not here,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair.

  “Where else can she be?”

  She looks away and shakes her head. “Skiing. Her clothes are not here.”

  “Oh.” I frown, glancing at my watch. It’s past eleven and the night runs will be closed soon.

  “Shit.” She bites her index nail and her eyes scan the space around her.

  “What’s the matter? She goes skiing at night all the time.”

  She gives me a wary look, probably wondering how I know this, but right now I need her to trust me. I give her the most sincere, trustworthy look I can muster.

  “Dani. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She lets out a long sigh. “She had a shitty night–weekend,” she corrects herself. She had a… fight with her fiancée and was upset.”

  “And?”

  “She dropped a tray full of drinks, so I told her to take the rest of the night off. I told her not to go skiing, though. She was out of it.”

  “Are you worried?”

  She looks up at me and her eyes are etched in regret. “Yes.”

  I dart a quick look at my watch. “The run will close in twenty minutes. Let me change and I’ll go look for her.”

  She closes her eyes. “I can’t explain right now and not that she’d be stupid enough, but check the Women’s Downhill, will you?”

  I frown. That run would be very challenging at night. “Okay.”

  “Thanks,” she mutters. She pulls out her cell phone and we exchange our contact information. I turn to leave, but she grips my arm. “Jake… Natalia needs this job more than ever, please keep this quiet, okay?”

  I nod, then dash to my room. I want to know what she meant by ‘more than ever.’ I also can’t deny the sudden thrill I feel because she had a fight with her fiancée and that means hope, but the need to know she’s safe overpowers everything else.

  I change in record time. My villa is a short distance away from the lift and I rush over to catch my ride. Derek greets me and tells me he’ll close after me. I ask him about Natalia and he says she went up a long while ago. Unease stirs in my chest as I make the slow journey up. The night is clear, but the temperature is barely above zero. I say a silent prayer that she is okay and that she’ll tease me later for worrying about her.

  At the top I comb down the areas where I have seen Natalia skiing before. I’m alert of any movement or sound, but there’s nothing, just the wind whistling through the trees. I traverse across to the Women’s Downhill and begin my way down, trying to slow down my speed as much as I can, but the run is icy and I’m already praying she did not come down this way. As I make the third turn something a few feet ahead catches my attention. I slow until I come to a full stop next to it.

  My chest tightens when I recognize Natalia’s ski.

  I quickly pick it up and slide down, looking for the other one while I call out her name. My heart is hammering. I find the other ski a few yards down and call out for her again. The sound of my skis scraping the solid ice make it almost impossible to hear anything else. I stop to listen, then yell her name again.

  A faint voice answers from somewhere down the hill and I rush toward it, stopping every few yards to call her and listen.

  “I’m here,” her faint voice says from an area off the trail. I pull out a flashlight from my backpack and secure both her skis under my left arm as I sweep the snow with the light. She’s down some distance ahead and it looks like she’s tied to something, hanging from the wrists. I bolt down and drop her skis, unclipping mine so I can help her.

  “Jesus, fuck. Are you okay?”

  “Jake,” she whimpers. Her voice is faint and I wonder how long she’s been here. Her wrists are locked by the straps on her ski poles, which are tangled around a protruding tree branch. I get closer and pull a Swiss knife out of my pocket.

  “Babe, I’ll get you out of here. Can you move?” I say as I cut through the straps at her wrists. They snap and her arms drop limp on the snow. I am afraid to move her, in case there is damage to her back. I should call the ski patrol, but Dani’s comment about Natalia needing her job more than ever stops me.

  “Baby, can you move?”

  She doesn’t answer but pulls her arms down, then stirs
and is able to get almost to a sitting position. This means there’s no damage to her back and I let out a sigh of relief. I pick her up and pull her onto my lap, rubbing her arms. She’s shivering and when I press my face to hers I flinch. Her checks are as cold as the snow around us. I need to get her out of here before she’s fully overcome by hypothermia.

  “Natalia, I should call the ski patrol. They’ll bring a stretcher and get you out of here.”

  “No.” Her eyes widen slightly, then she closes them again. “Please… Jake. You help me. If anyone… knows I’ve been out here… I will get fired. Please. Please help me,” she whispers and it seems to take the last of her strength. Her head drops to my shoulder.

  I envelope her in my arms, knowing as stupid as it is not to call the ski patrol, I will do anything she asks me. I try to share some of my body heat. She’s shivering. Desperation claws its way up my chest.

  “We need to get out of here. Can you walk?”

  She trembles as I pull her up with me. Her clothes and boots are covered in snow and I brush it off so she can move a little easier. I can’t help her and carry both of our skis, so I stab them in the snow by a tree and wrap my arm around her waist to support her. We are not too far from the base and I know the mountain well enough to recognize a trail that cuts down to the villa where I’m staying.

  Natalia leans on me, making a huge effort to walk, but she doesn’t give up. I try to come up with reassuring words to keep her focused as we make our way down. She is trembling and I know it won’t be long before her body can’t take anymore.

  Just as we are a few yards from my cabin, she whispers my name. As I tip my head down she collapses and passes out.

  I pick her up in my arms and carry her the rest of the way to my cabin.

  And I think we are safe.

  Chapter 15: Natalia:

  I can’t stop the shaking. My body convulses from hypothermia as Jake brings me into his villa. I’m not sure if this is a dream, or if he’s really here. He slides me onto the couch and immediately starts taking my clothes off. I want to help him, but my limbs are unresponsive and numb from fatigue and lying on the snow. Jake holds my face in his hands and says my name. I manage to open my eyes and he sighs, from relief, I think. His eyes are etched in worry as he says soothing words and tells me to try to stay awake.