by Jeff Ross
“Down, obviously,” Dave said. Suddenly he seemed ready to believe kidnapping was a possibility.
“Why? What’s down there?” Hope asked.
“I don’t know. Roads, towns, places to go!” Dave yelled.
“Calm down, Dave,” I said. “No one’s after you.”
“I know that,” Dave said. “But if Bryce has been kidnapped because his dad is rich, well, what can we do about it?”
“What?” Hope said.
“Well, think about it. What can we do?”
“He’s our friend,” I said. “If he’s been kidnapped, we have to help him.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Dave demanded.
“First we have to figure out where they would have taken him.”
“We should go talk to Sam. See what he thinks,” Hope said.
“He’ll think another drink from his flask might magically bring him the answer,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” Dave asked.
“Never mind, Dave,” I said. “I say we search the area. Sam said there were other cabins around here. Maybe we’ll see something. We’ll cut through the woods, because, even with the snowfall this morning, there have to be places in the woods where we might see a snowmobile track. What do you think?” Hope was looking at me. Without her neck warmer pulled up over her chin and her tuque yanked down over her head, her green eyes shone in the blue sky. “Well?”
“Sounds good,” she said, turning the key on her snowmobile.
chapter eight
We cut back along the mountain toward the woods. I knew what was on the other side of these woods.
The drop.
Hope disappeared in the trees, moving much faster than I was able to. I blamed this on the fact that there were two of us on the snowmobile. But in truth it was because I was still scared of the big heavy machine.
In the woods, Hope’s trail suddenly cut up the chute I had come down carrying Keith Richards. There was more snow here than before. At the same time, the wind had swept clear spots between some of the trees. It was nice in the woods this time. The sun dripped through the tops of the trees, leaving shifting shadows on the ground. The heavy wind had turned into a light breeze. There was a crisp smell of freshly fallen snow. Even the whine of the snowmobile engine didn’t bother me that much.
Hope was stopped at the top of the chute. She seemed to be staring at a tree. I pulled in beside her and shut the snowmobile down.
“Someone came by here,” she said. “There’s a cut in the tree, right there.”
“I found Keith Richards over there,” I said, pointing to the other side of the chute.
Hope looked at where I was pointing. “The cut is deep here, then shallow here,” she said, pointing at the cut again. “It looks like someone took the corner too closely and banged the side of a snowmobile against it.”
“That could have been the guys who brought our stuff up here though, right?”
“What guys?” Hope asked.
“The guys who brought our bags and the dummies and the food and all that stuff up to the cabin.” She looked at me blankly. “Did you think it was beamed in here or something?”
“I figured the helicopter dropped it all off.”
“How?” I asked. “Where would it land?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well, my guess is that there would have been four guys who brought the stuff up,” I said.
“Four?” Dave said. “Why four?”
“Think about it. We have two snowmobiles, which means that there were two people driving them, right?”
“Right.”
“But then those two people had to get out of here as well. So there had to be two other snowmobiles to get them back down the mountain. Plus, they would have needed four snowmobiles just to get Hope’s bag up here.”
“Funny,” she said. She swung a leg over the snowmobile and sat back down on it, facing forward.
“Well,” I said, “I don’t think these trails are from yesterday.”
“What trails?” Dave said.
“These ridges, right along the edge here.”
“How do you know they aren’t from yesterday?” Dave asked.
“I’m guessing, but when I came to the cabin, it was stormy, right?”
“So you said,” Dave replied.
“And the wind was blowing straight down this chute,” I said.
“So these tracks wouldn’t have lasted. They would have been blown away if it had been the snowmobilers who brought our stuff. But the winds last night were blowing across the mountain. That’s why it was so hard to get the door of the cabin open. And why there was that long trench in the snow that we just rode along,” Hope said.
“Okay. So where do these tracks go?” I asked.
“That way,” Hope replied, pointing toward the drop.
“You know what’s over there, don’t you?” I said.
“We have to go look,” she said. “Someone took Bryce, and we need to find him.”
Dave muttered something behind me.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Dave replied. “Let’s just go.” Hope narrowed her eyes at him, put her helmet back on, started the snowmobile and tore off in a great wash of snow.
chapter nine
The drop looked the same as it had the day before.
Terrifying.
Even though there was no wind where we sat, snow was being propelled up and over the rim.
“Wow,” Dave said. “Why is it doing that?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “But don’t get off your snowmobile. I fell in here, and it took me forever to stand back up again. This snow is really deep.” The snowmobiles were sunk in the powder. I looked behind us, and our trail was like a ditch on the side of a road. The sun was shining brightly above us. If Bryce hadn’t been missing, we’d be off doing our tests to become full-fledged Backcountry Patrollers.
“Can you see any tracks?” I asked.
“Seriously? In all this snow?” Hope looked at me like I was crazy. Or stupid.
“I don’t know, Hope. Maybe there’s a place where the snow isn’t as deep or something? Use your detective skills.”
She scowled at me. “The snowmobiles had to come this way. Which means that they could either have gone up, down or over the edge. Up doesn’t make sense. I mean, that chute we were in goes to the top of the woods. Why wouldn’t you just ride it straight up?”
“And once you got there,” Dave said, “where would you go?”
“Well, you could get a chopper to pick you up,” I said.
“But we would have heard a chopper. Remember how loud it was? And anyway, in the kind of storm we had last night, there’s no way a chopper could have made it in here.” I looked down the mountain. The trees went right to the edge of the drop. It would be impossible to get around them.
“They wouldn’t have gone down either,” I said. “I mean, why come up and then go straight back down there?”
“Exactly,” Hope replied.
“So there’s only one place they could have gone,” Dave said. We all looked at the drop.
“Remember what Sam said?” I asked. “About how you can’t tell if the drop is five feet or four hundred feet?”
“I’m not going over there,” Dave said. “No way.”
“We have to,” Hope replied. “Whoever took Bryce went over there. So we have to go over too.” She turned her snowmobile back on and started slowly moving toward the edge.
“Don’t follow her, Alex,” Dave said over my shoulder. “Just turn around. We have to tell Sam what’s going on.”
“We will,” I said, putting my helmet back on. “Just hold on.”
“Don’t do it, Alex.”
“Hold on,” I said again. Dave looked at me. His mouth was open a little. His lips quivered.
“I’m getting off.”
“Then get off,” I said.
/> “I’m going to tell Sam.”
“Then tell Sam,” I said. He sat there staring at me.
“I don’t think you know Bryce as well as you think you do,” he blurted out.
“What do you mean?”
“Before we left, I saw him with these older guys at the lodge. I’d heard about them before.”
“What guys?” I said.
“I don’t know their names. But I heard they steal snowboards.”
“So maybe they’d stolen one of Bryce’s boards and he was trying to get it back,” I offered.
“Maybe.”
“How many times did you see him talking to these guys?”
“Just once.” I wasn’t even certain that Dave was telling the truth. It all seemed too vague. I figured he was just scared and looking for any reason not to have to go closer to the drop. “So, are you getting off?”
In answer, he pulled his helmet back on and reached around for the bar. “All right, hold on,” I said.
We crept to the edge of the drop. The snow being flicked up was hard and felt like pieces of rice bouncing off my face. The moaning was loud at the edge. Like a million souls crying out from the depths of hell. Hope was standing up on her snowmobile, slowly moving along the edge. I was impressed. She wasn’t showing any fear. She went as far down as possible, then did a half circle and started back up the mountain. As she was passing us, she stopped.
“I can’t see anything there,” she said.
“I can’t either,” I replied.
“But there has to be some way down.”
I shrugged. “Keep looking, I guess.”
The sun had been moving down in the sky for some time, and the light was starting to dim. I pulled my sleeve back and looked at my watch. Almost four thirty. The sun would be setting in the next hour, and then it would be completely dark. I did not want to be here in the dark.
“We only have about half an hour of light left,” I said.
Hope nodded and twisted the accelerator.
We drove as far up along the drop as possible and back down again. We couldn’t see anything through the snow. In a couple of spots we could see into the distance, where it looked like there were a couple of gentle slopes. But we spent most of our time wiping the visors of our helmets and trying to breathe with our lips tight.
Eventually I pulled up beside Hope. The sun was gone, leaving only the flickering glow of a west-coast sunset.
“We have to go back,” I said. “You lead.” She nodded, gunned the snowmobile and shot back into the trees. It took less than fifteen minutes for us to return to the cabin, but by the time we arrived, it was pitch-dark outside, and there was still no sign of Bryce.
chapter ten
Sam was asleep on his bunk, his mouth open and pumping out gurgling snores. The air smelled heavily of alcohol.
“Wow. He sure seems concerned for our safety,” Dave said. The satellite phone was on the dining table. I picked it up and tried to turn it on.
Nothing.
Hope went into the bathroom. The click of the door closing snapped Sam out of sleep. He sat up and wiped a bit of spittle off his chin.
“Where have you been?” he said.
“Looking for Bryce,” I said as I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of a chair.
“You took the snowmobiles. You took off without telling me. You have to tell me when you leave. I was worried.”
“So worried you fell asleep?” Dave said.
Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He tilted a little as he stood and then steadied himself. “I guess you didn’t find him.”
“No,” I replied. “And he didn’t come back here?”
Sam shook his head.
I was angry with Sam. He was the adult here. He should have been the one out looking for Bryce. He should at least be the one trying to figure out what to do next. He didn’t even seem concerned about Bryce. I mean, it seemed pretty self-centered to me. Like this whole Backcountry Patrol thing was just some kind of sideline, a way for him to make money. But didn’t he feel responsible for us at all? He walked across the room to the kitchen area. I lit one of the lanterns, and Sam seemed to scurry away from the light. It was almost six o’clock, but in the heart of winter, six o’clock means complete darkness.
“Do you guys want something to eat?” Sam asked. “Pasta? Beans?”
“Pasta,” Dave said. “And lots of it. I’m starving.”
I was starving as well, but I wasn’t going to say anything. I stared at Sam for a minute.
“What?” he said.
“What are we going to do, Sam? We’re out here on the side of a mountain. Someone has gone missing. We have no idea where he is, or who took him.”
“Whoa, whoa. Who said someone took him?”
Hope had just stepped out of the bathroom. “How else would he have left?” she said. “He wouldn’t just go out for a walk and not be able to find his way back, right? We’re on the side of a mountain.”
“He could have,” Sam replied.
“If that’s what happened, then why aren’t you out going up and down the mountain looking for him? He’s your responsibility,” I said.
“You three took the snowmobiles, remember?” This was true.
“So what’s the plan, Sam?” I said.
Water was boiling in a pot on the stove. Sam turned and dumped in some spaghetti, sending hot water splashing to the floor. “Eventually someone will come for us,” he said, not looking at us. I thought, That’s it? That’s your plan? Eventually someone will come?
“That’s it?” Hope said what I was thinking. She was shaking. “We wait for help? That’s your answer.”
Sam stirred the pasta. “What do you want me to do?” he said, turning to her.
“We have to find out who took Bryce,” Hope yelled. “Someone took him over the drop.”
Sam squinted at her. “Why would you say that?”
“We found tracks out there. The only place they could have gone was over the drop.”
“What kind of tracks?”
“Yeti,” I said. “Snowmobile, what else? You do know how rich Bryce’s family is, right?
Sam looked at me and shook his head. “Sure, but I never really thought about it.”
“Well, think about it now,” Hope said. “His dad is really, really rich, and really, really rich people’s kids sometimes get kidnapped.”
Sam smiled at her. “You guys have some great imaginations.”
“Do you have another explanation?” Hope said.
Sam put some pasta sauce in a pot and turned the heat up. He didn’t answer Hope’s question. And it didn’t seem he ever would.
Sam Jenkins might have been great back in the day. He might even have been the best snowboarder that ever lived. But now he was just an instructor who had no idea what to do when trouble hit. Another celebrity who had become so full of himself that other people stopped meaning anything to him.
It was up to us to save Bryce.
chapter eleven
In the morning, as the sun first poked into the sky, I woke Hope up by prodding her in the side with a stick of kindling.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Get up. We’re going over the drop.”
“Huh?” she muttered sleepily.
I gently poked her again.
“Stop that. It’s annoying,” she said.
“We’re going to get Sam to show us where it isn’t a huge drop, and then we’re going over.” I was already fully dressed in my snowboarding gear. “We have to get going.” She threw her legs over the side of the bed. “And we have to take our boards.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Do you want to jump off a cliff on a snowmobile?”
“Whoever took Bryce did.”
“Yeah, but they likely knew exactly where to go. We’ll be guessing.”
“But Sam knows,” she said. “He told us he did.”
“And you trust Sam?”
I whispered.
She suddenly had a look of determination in her eyes. “Well, we’re going to have to,” she said. “At least a little.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I think you should go first.
Her mouth turned up into a little smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We packed our bags with some food from the cupboard, mostly just energy bars and cereal, and hooked our snowboards onto the racks on the back of the snowmobiles. I went inside for one more stop in the bathroom. By the time I came out, Hope had somehow convinced Sam to show us where it would be safe to go over. He still didn’t offer to go himself.
Sam drove one snowmobile with Dave on the back. Hope drove the other. The safety bar on the back of the snowmobile was covered by our boards, so I had to wrap my arms around Hope’s waist to hang on. I was surprised by how thin she felt. She gunned the engine, and we shot forward. Then she let off the gas, and I was flung forward, my nose sinking into the hair that fluffed out beneath her helmet.
“Sorry,” she said. But I didn’t mind. She actually smelled pretty nice.
We peeled away from the cabin toward the chute in the woods and then to the drop. We went straight toward it rather than weaving around, as we had the day before. It only took about twenty minutes.
The rushing waves of snow were still washing the edge of the drop. I wondered if they ever stopped. There was almost no wind where we stood. “You shouldn’t be doing this, guys,” Sam said. “It’s just not safe. And anyway, what are you going to do if you find Bryce? Or what if you don’t find him? Then what? You can’t get back up the drop. That’s just not an option.” He shook his head as he spoke.
“I guess we should just stay in the cabin then?” Hope said. “Wait for the food to run out? Or what’s your other idea? Someone will come and find us? There has to be something at the bottom of this mountain. A road or—or something.” She pointed at the drop. “Just show us where it isn’t that much of a fall.” Sam looked up and down the length of the drop.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Yes, you do,” I said. “You told us you did.”
“Not exactly,” he replied. “I know a general area. But if I’m wrong, you’ll just…fall.”