Buried Alive!

by Gloria Skurzynski

  Nicky was a crazy punk, and the worst part was that Ashley couldn’t see it. Unbidden, Jack’s mind flashed to the picture of Nicky with his arm around Ashley. Shaking his head he tried to get the image out of his mind, but he couldn’t jar it free. She said she liked him. His own sister had been fooled by Nicky’s wild story—how dumb was that? Maybe she didn’t think it mattered if you let someone spin a CIA fantasy, but it mattered to Jack. And, he had to admit, it wasn’t just that he cared about truth. The real reason ran deeper.

  It was the fact that his sister had chosen to trust this strange kid over him—that was at the core of it. Even though Jack had sounded a clear warning, his sister still believed the punk. Nibble, nibble, nibble; the irritation kept biting him. His cheeks were frozen from the spray of snow the dogs kicked up as they ran. Jack wished they could go back to Kantishna. A necropsy couldn’t be that bad. Besides, no one said they had to watch!

  Suddenly, Ashley cried, “Up ahead—that huge mountain—is that Denali?”

  “It is,” Chaz answered.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s amazing!”

  There, to the south, rising like an enormous crown, was a massive mountain with a peak that seemed to scrape the very bottom of the sky. Jack had been born and raised in Jackson Hole where the Tetons had always dazzled him, but this—this was almost too much to take in. The sky was a clear turquoise that framed the mountain like a jeweler’s velvet. At the base of the mountain, a long stretch of clouds hovered over the foothills in an endless streamer, bisecting the view. Just beyond, emerging from the snow, was the jewel of Denali, its scalloped ridges tinted in shades of palest blue and silver-white as if light itself had carved the facets. It was immense, brilliant, incomprehensible.

  Jack breathed it in, instantly glad he’d been here to see it, Nicky or no Nicky.

  “Denali is 20,320 feet high—the highest mountain on the North American continent,” Chaz told them. “It is also called Mount McKinley. In fact, that’s its official name, but everyone around here calls it Denali. Sometimes, if you get here on a clear day, you can see the mountain reflected in Wonder Lake.”

  “Just look at it,” Ashley said, her voice reverent, while Nicky added, “That is one big mountain.”

  Ashley turned to Chaz. Her stocking cap had been pulled almost to the bridge of her nose, but a few tendrils of hair had escaped. The wind blew them over her cap like dark, curling shoots. “You know so much about Denali—have you lived in Alaska all your life?”

  “Nooo. I’m originally from the lower 48. About five, no, six years ago, I decided it was time to get away from all the city life, so I came up here. See, I thought the city was wild, but I had no idea what Alaska could dish out. Almost died my first winter. Now I got snowshoes and a shovel and candles and all kinds of stuff packed in my sled, ’cause the backcountry will kill you if you’re not prepared. Even carry a gun, just in case I tangle with an animal that won’t let me go my way. One thing I know, this place is wilder than the city.”

  Ashley asked, “Where were you from?”

  “I was born in Texas, but the years before Alaska I spent in Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, to be exact.”

  Jack felt, rather than saw, Nicky stiffen as he asked, “You lived in Philly?”

  “Yeah. You’re from Philly, too, aren’t you?” Chaz answered coolly. His voice had become as frosted as the air. “It’s amazing, huh? The world seems to be such a big place, but in the end, everybody knows everybody, right? So how’d you get from there all the way to Jackson Hole, Nicky? Did your daddy take you there?”

  Jack turned to see Nicky stammer, “I…I don’t know.”

  “Why’s that? You seem to be a pretty big kid to not know how you ended up somewhere.”

  Chaz’s jaw tightened as he gazed straight ahead. He had small eyes that were set deep, so deep they were hard to read, and the expression on his face was as blank as a sheet of white paper, but those eyes—they kept zeroing in on Nicky. A smile curled the edges of his lips as he asked, “So where’s your dad now?”

  “He’s…gone.”

  “Gone? Doesn’t sound like much of a dad to just up and leave you.”

  “My dad is none of your business!” Nicky flared.

  “Nicky!” Ashley scolded, “don’t be rude!”

  “Stay out of this, Ashley,” Nicky snapped. “You don’t have—just stay out of it!”

  Leaning over the handle bow of the sled, Chaz said, “You remind me of my wolverines, kid. Fierce. Maybe a bit nasty, even. But I can deal with that. Oh, yeah, I can deal.” His gloved hand moved smoothly over his chin, like a snake. The dogs kept running, faster now, making Jack’s eyes teary from the wind.

  “Um, Chaz,” Ashley began, trying to change the subject, “do you know any other stories you could tell us about the wolverines?”

  Chaz shook his head. “I’m fresh out of stories, kid. Why don’t you ask Nicky here to tell some stories. I bet he knows a lot of them. I even bet his daddy’s the kind that likes to talk, although in my experience, people who talk are sorry in the end. Am I right, Nicky?”

  Nicky didn’t answer. There was something very wrong here, Jack sensed. It was as if currents were running beneath the water, forces that pushed in unseen ways that were cold and deep and unfathomable. Chaz seemed to be enjoying a truth that only he and Nicky understood, and Nicky looked scared. Then Chaz yelled at his dogs, and they began to run faster still.

  Ashley looked at Jack and mouthed What’s going on? but he could only shrug in reply before he turned to face forward again. Even if they wanted to end this bizarre episode there was nothing they could do, not out here in this wilderness. They kept mushing along the frozen river that wound through the woods like a piece of discarded string, then onto a road, and back to the creek bed. Once again the trees thickened, a shoulder-to-shoulder army of fir trees and spruce. The riverbed forked into two main branches, one to the left, and one to the right.

  “Haw!” Chaz cried. At the fork the dogs veered off to the left, and from the shadows Jack could tell they were curving to the east. They rode on, slipping past small clots of wood and hills where the snow had sheered off rock faces, past more sweeping meadows polished smooth by the wind. Clouds in the north were darkening the sky to an ominous steely gray, although Chaz seemed unconcerned as they raced on. Jack tried to convince himself that everything was going to be all right. But something deep in his gut was twisting.

  “Chaz,” Ashley cried, “we’re getting farther from the mountain.”

  “Seems that way,” he agreed.

  “Maybe we should go back.”

  “We can’t go back now—our fun is just starting! It’s only us and the wild, wild animals. Hey, Nicky, why don’t you keep an eye out for a wolverine? I heard that some guy caught one right at the base of that mountain in a trap.”

  Jack corkscrewed all the way around so that he was facing Chaz, and Ashley did the same. Chaz smiled, exposing all of his teeth. “Actually, I think I’ll just go ahead and tell you the truth. See, that’s the problem with crime—you can’t tell anyone when you’ve done something truly unique.” He pumped his thumb into his chest. “I’m an original. I caught those wolverines and turned tragedy into cash.” Raising his hands as if he were a criminal surrendering, he declared, “I might as well confess all the way. It was me. I dumped the wolverines.”

  “What—what are you talking about?” Jack gasped.

  “I got me one wolverine here, and then I caught me four more way out in the wilderness. Kept them in cages until I was ready. Nasty suckers—meaner than spit. No one will ever figure out how I did ’em in. See, I figured they might take a blood sample and check for disease or maybe poison, but I’m smarter than that. There’s no poison. So five wolverines, all dead from unknown causes, found in the snow near Kantishna—the publicity was worth its weight in gold. It was exactly what my Wolverine Rescue scam needed.”

  Was Chaz playing some kind of sick joke? Nicky stared straight ahead, his face stone. />
  Squinting, Chaz seemed to look off into the distance. “Didn’t think about them being all males, though,” he added, making a clucking sound. “Your mom caught that mistake. She’s pretty sharp. Well, I guarantee she won’t figure out the rest. Anyway, I put pictures of those pathetic wolverines right on my Web site. Along with a bleeding-heart story, those photos really tugged on the emotions. Credit card donations poured in.”

  Ashley’s voice filled with horror. “Chaz?…”

  But Chaz kept talking as if he were telling them a story about the weather. “Do you know how much money I already got from suckers who thought the wolverines were in trouble? Two hundred and twenty thousand dollars. Two-hundred and twenty thousand, and my plan had just barely begun. That would have been big for sure, but it’s all over now, thanks to Nicky here. They called me, Nicky, right from Philly. Gave me another job to do.” Reaching over, he ruffled the top of Nicky’s head. Nicky jerked away.

  “You’re my job now, kid.”

  Jack’s heart jumped. “Are you serious?” he cried. If Chaz was joking, his mind must really be twisted.

  “So I had to clean out my bank account. When I’m done with you kids, I’ll be headin’ on down to Mexico. It’s a pity, though. I really think my dead wolverine thing would have scored big.” Chaz suddenly burst out laughing. “What are you lookin’ at, Jack? You look like your eyes are gonna pop right out of your head. Hey, I’m just messing with you. I wouldn’t think of trapping an animal—I’m the originator of the Wolverine Rescue Program, remember?”

  “I…I don’t understand,” Ashley stammered. Her hands gripped the sides of the sled like claws.

  Jack didn’t either. This man was either a real wacko, totally out of his mind, or else he was telling the truth and the three of them were in serious danger. He could no longer even see Denali’s tip, which meant they had been heading in the wrong direction. They were going south now, close to a different mountain with a high face, the bald kind with no trees to mar its pristine whiteness. Chaz suddenly called out a firm, “Whoa!” When the dogs danced to a stop, he jumped on the brake and threw out a hook line. The dogs barked in protest, straining at their harnesses.

  “I said ‘whoa!’” Chaz cried again. This time the team settled into a controlled agitation. Jack looked around wildly. They could run, but there was nowhere to run to. Only snow and the empty mountains.

  “Now, here’s the thing, kiddies,” Chaz said, turning on them with cold eyes. “I thought it would really be fun to take a little plane ride. Me and my dogs and you, Nicky. Hate to play favorites, but I can only take one.

  My airplane’s parked just a little farther on, right past that ridge there.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Nicky answered quietly. A strange expression had etched across his face—half fear, half resignation.

  “Take us back to Kantishna!” Jack demanded, wondering again if Chaz was playing some kind of sick joke. But Chaz ignored him. All his attention seemed focused on Nicky. Biting the finger of his right glove, he pulled it off, then found the tab of his parka and yanked it down, calmly placing the glove in his pocket. “Oh, you’ll want to go on this ride with me, Nicky. Tell your friends to get out of the basket so we can take care of business. You know what this is about.”

  The words seemed to hover in the cold air, and for a moment Jack didn’t connect them until suddenly he understood. Chaz was kidnapping Nicky. He intended to take Nicky and leave Jack and Ashley in the frozen wilderness.

  “Jack—Ashley—get out.” Chaz demanded harshly, not bothering to disguise the threat. “This isn’t your business. It’s between me and Nicky.”

  “No!” Jack exploded. His heart was beating so wildly he thought his chest might blow apart. “We’re staying right here in the sled—all of us. You’ve got to take us back to Kantishna. This is crazy, Chaz. You’re not funny. Take us back!”

  Like a dog showing its teeth, Chaz pulled back his lips threateningly. “Get that sister of yours and run along. Nicky has already cost me plenty.”

  “Do what he says,” Nicky told them stiffly.

  “But we’ll freeze to death out here!”

  Chaz gave a short bark of laughter. “That’s what I’m counting on.” He slipped his hand into his parka and pulled out a silver, snub-nosed gun. Although Jack’s brain felt thickened by images and words that didn’t make sense, this he understood: Gun. Chaz had a gun, and it was pointed right at the base of Nicky’s skull.

  Ashley’s hands flew to her mouth. “Chaz, no!”

  Chaz looked down at Ashley, but his eyes held no emotion at all. He bit off every word as he said, “I’m going to tell you and your brother one more time. Get out of my sled.”

  Jack sat frozen. What should he do? What could he do? All he could see was the gun.

  Now Chaz spoke only to Nicky. “My boss says your daddy will cooperate once he hears your voice on the phone. You’re the one I want. Tell them.”

  “Ashley,” Nicky said hoarsely. “Get out of here.”

  Neither one of them moved. Jack felt as if his brain had disconnected from his body.

  “Are you two deaf?” Chaz demanded, waving his gun in the air. “Leave or I will shoot your friend right in the head.” His face contorted. “Now!” he screamed, so loud his voice echoed off the northern face of the mountain, the now, now, now, bouncing into the air until it disappeared like a dying note. Then shoving the muzzle in Nicky’s neck, he cocked the gun.

  Jack and Ashley scrambled out of the basket and stood woodenly in the snow. The color had drained from Nicky’s face. “It’s OK, Ashley,” he whispered. “Try to save yourself.”

  “How noble!” Chaz pulled back the gun, leaned down, and with a quick jerk pulled up the snow hook and dropped it beside his feet. Resting the gun on the handle of the sled, he said, “You’ll talk to your dad, and after that, who knows? It could be like what happened to my friend—remember that little story I told, Nicky? Well, guess what? This just might be your day to die.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  A wind gusted up and scoured the riverbed, spinning a gauzy curtain of powdered snow that hit Jack full in the face. The coldness stung him, waking his senses, jump-starting his fear-frozen mind. He had to think, and he had to do it fast. The dogs barked furiously.

  Ashley took a small step toward the sled.

  “Stay where you are!” Chaz ordered. His arm spun around to aim the gun right at Ashley’s chest. His eyes were deadly.

  Jack could hear the quaver in his sister’s voice as she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  Chaz just snickered. The gun dropped to his hip as he grabbed the snow hook.

  “Don’t leave us!” Ashley pleaded.

  “It will look like a tragic accident. You two found frozen in the Denali wilderness, while Nicky’s remains—lost. They’ll figure the wild animals got him. And me? Oh, they’ll never find me. I’ll be long gone. I’ve got my plane parked at the Glen Creek airstrip. I’ll put my basket and dogs and Nicky right inside, and then we’ll be off. Me and Nicky are about to disappear.”

  “But why?” Ashley demanded. “I don’t understand!”

  Chaz didn’t answer. Instead, he snapped the hook beneath the runner. His right hand still clutched the gun, which once again hovered dangerously close to the back of Nicky’s head. The sled pitched forward, but Chaz’s fierce command of “whoa” once again held the dogs in check.

  What could Jack do? Different scenarios flashed through his mind, considered for an instant and then discarded. He and Ashley could turn and try to run, but Chaz could pick them off like tin ducks in an arcade. They could stay where they stood, statues in the snow, yet standing still would make them perfect targets if Chaz decided to shoot. And what about Nicky?

  He watched Nicky’s hands grip the sled, saw his eyes widen with fear, his lips part slightly as he took several quick gulps of air. If Jack rushed the basket, it might give Nicky the chance to run, but for Jack it would be suicide. All of t
hese thoughts fired through the neurons in his brain in rapid succession. No, there was no answer. They were trapped.

  Sasha and Kenai quivered in their harnesses, anxious to go forward and yet compelled by Chaz to stay. “Whoa,” he commanded again as he stepped off the claw break. Jack knew that in a matter of seconds, Chaz, and Nicky, would be gone.

  The yapping of the dogs echoed off of the sheer mountain wall. The dogs! They might be the answer. If Jack could spook the dogs—in his mind’s eye he saw the sled heave forward, saw Chaz rock back and lose his balance to fall onto the frozen creek bed. If Jack could make that happen, in that split second they’d have a chance to escape. It could work. But how could he spook those dogs? His eyes snapped to the ground where he saw several broken branches with bleached-out needles, and next to them a crooked stick the size of a ruler. None of those could work. If he threw any one of them it would wobble weakly through the air. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a clutch of baseball-size rocks, each with a cap of glittering snow, nestled only inches from his right foot. A rock. Pitched right at the flank of the wheel dog, the rock could send them into chaos. But Jack wasn’t sure of his aim. If he missed…. A shudder passed through him as he pictured the barrel of the nickel-plated gun. He couldn’t miss. He would get one try, one gamble. There would be no second chances.

  Chaz straddled the runners and gripped the handle bow with his left hand. In that split second Jack dipped his knees to grab the closest rock, jerking it hard to pull it out of the snow. His heart began beating so wildly he was afraid his ribs would shatter. At that moment Chaz turned and saw the rock in his hand. Instantly Jack took aim and with every fiber of strength in his body he heaved the rock, hitting the swing dog squarely in its flank. The dog’s high-pitched squeal let him know he’d scored the mark.

  “Run!” Jack screamed, to Ashley, to Nicky, to himself. “Run! Run! Run!”