Ronni approached a man who was flagging off what appeared to be an entry/exit gate or check point for the rescuers. "Excuse me sir, is there anything I can do to help?"
"I'm sorry lady, I appreciate what you want to do here, but there's still a threat of another slide. Unless you're trained medical or rescue personnel, you'll need to clear the area." As the man spoke, rope-off points were already being set up to keep all non-rescue and non-medical personnel at a safe distance.
Feeling helpless, Ronni headed to the parking lot, hoping her Jeep was not one of the vehicles covered in the avalanche, though fairly certain it wasn't, based on where she'd remembered she'd parked. While she exited, media vans and TV station helicopters found their way to the accident. Ronni was overwhelmed. The scene appeared a disheveled mass of confusion. When Ronni finally found her Jeep and plopped into the seat, she turned on the engine and sat, thankful she and Cali had avoided the avalanche, and hopeful anyone else affected would be okay. She stared at the phone number penned on her hand. As the heat cranked in the Jeep, Ronni realized how tired she was as her eyelids felt heavy. She put the Jeep in gear and merged with the rest of the cars exiting the parking lot. A few seconds later, she pulled into an empty space and dialed Cali's number.
CALI RAN ALL the way from the lodge toward where she saw the avalanche descend. She prayed the path was in the woods only and not covering any of the trails, the townhomes, or the ski school. She also knew the likelihood of that would be slim. Already the sound of sirens and helicopters flooded the air. Snowpack blocked her way to the ski lift where she worked, increasing her worry.
She scanned the length of the debris field and headed north. A short while later, she was able to cross. From there she saw the debris line blocking her way was narrow, perhaps a sliver off the main slide, but the trail below and the lift line she worked were intact.
Further west however, a wider debris line cleared trees all along the mountain, all the way into part of the parking lot, covering the ski school to the extent only part of the top was visible, but clearly it had shifted from the base. Cali's heart sank. Her heart pounded faster. From her vantage point, she saw people scattering everywhere, most making their way out of the ski area. She saw rescue crews gathering near the base of the mountain and in the parking lot.
She knew staying on the mountain was dangerous and decided to head to where the rescuers were. There was no way down to the ski school from where she stood anyway, and the last thing she needed to do was start another slide. As she headed back the way she came, her cell phone rang. At first she thought to let it ring. Then she thought, what if it's April?
"Hello?" Cali said. Her voice shook.
"Hi, Cali? It's Ronni. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, but the devastation...have you seen it?"
"I have. It's awful. I tried finding you, but couldn't. Then I tried to help, but they wouldn't let me do that either," Ronni said.
"The ski school...it looks bad. April was teaching today. I work with her at the ranch. She's a friend of Sam and Halie's."
"Oh, God," Ronni said.
"Where are you?"
"I'm sitting in my Jeep in the parking lot. Where are you?"
"I'm on my way to the parking lot. I was going to see if they'd let me help, since I'm an employee." As Cali talked, she saw rescue personnel already begin their ascent up the mountain, leaving flags in certain places.
"They won't let you. Not even employees. I was told outright if I wasn't medical or rescue personnel, I couldn't be here. I think we're more of a risk than help at this point."
"I'm going to try anyway. I can't leave knowing April's here," Cali said. "I'm going to call her as soon as I get off the phone with you."
"Do you want me to meet you?"
"No. Maybe you can get a hold of Sam though, or Halie and let them know. See if they've heard from April."
"Okay, be careful." Ronni hung up and dialed Halie. She got no answer. Then she called the house phone and left a message.
HALIE'S HEART BEAT swift and fierce as she strained to see through the darkness, adrenaline coursing through her veins. The thunderous, crashing, sickening sound of the avalanche that collapsed the world around them had passed, followed now by multiple children crying and sobbing. She attempted to move her limbs. Nothing appeared broken. "April, are you okay? How are the kids?"
"My shoulder's hurt, but otherwise I think I'm okay. Kids, call out your names to me, one at a time, please." After the last child called out her name, April took a deep breath. "They're all here, Halie," she said, before adding in a whisper, "Justine didn't answer. She was behind you. I don't think she made it, but don't say anything. The kids are scared enough.
"It's so dark in here I can't see my hand in front of my face," Halie said.
"Hang on a minute," April said. "There should be a flashlight or one of those lamps with the battery pack around here. We had a few located around the store in the event of a blackout, since we don't have generator backup, and we've experienced blackouts before. I'm pretty sure they kept at least one by the cashier's counter."
"You search your end and I'll search mine." Halie extended her arms to the one side and with great care, gingerly reached out until she felt wood and shelving. She slid her hands over the bottom of the top shelf, from one side to the other, then repeated the process on the shelf below. Her hand traveled over what felt like a candy bar or two, plastic bags, a pair of scissors, some other odd shaped object she had no idea of what it was, and then felt the rectangular battery pack with a light mounted on top. She felt for the button to turn it on, depressed it, and lit up the space that was their shelter. The sparse sanctuary separated them from life and death. "Looks like you were right."
"I found one on this end too," April confirmed.
As soon as Halie flipped on the light, the cries from the kids subsided into sobs and whimpers. They sat huddled between two semi-circular cashier counters, the ceiling above them caved in on an angle approximately six feet above, with enough room for five or six of them to stand erect at the same time. Then she shone the light to the space between the counters, from which they entered and to the space on the other end. The side they entered was completely compacted with snow. On the other end, the light carried into another pocket of space, but not far and then darkness once again. Halie met April's eyes. They locked with an unseen connection and understanding of the situation, but held a determination and awareness needed so as not to scare the kids.
"The glass cover on this lamp is cracked, but it works," April said. She held the battery in her hand like a precious diamond ring. "We'll keep this one for backup if we need it. Can everyone move all of their body parts? Fingers, toes, arms, legs?"
The kids each responded in turn that no one was hurt.
"Great. That's a big plus. Someone's definitely looking out for us," April said.
When Halie watched the kids move their limbs and turn their heads left to right, up and down, she recognized another familiar face besides April's. "Tommy Weston, is that you? It's Ms. Walker, from the gallery where your mom works."
Three children sat between her and Tommy, and another four between Tommy to April. Like April, Halie knew they needed to keep these youngsters occupied and focused on anything but their current situation. Remaining calm would conserve oxygen.
Tommy breathed in and halted his sobbing. "Yes ma'am, Ms. Walker ma'am."
"So your mom finally broke down and let you take skiing lessons, did she?"
"Only after Grandma helped me pester her until she gave in." A momentary smile crossed his face before receding. "Maybe I should have listened to my mom. Now we're in big trouble. Are we going to die?"
"No, were not going to die," Halie said. She wrapped her arms around the kids sitting near her and watched April do the same. "April and I are going to see if we can get us out of here. And if we can't, then we'll sit and wait to be rescued." She unzipped her jacket. "You see this object hanging around my neck?"
Tommy mumbled that he had, and so did the other kids.
"Well, it's a transceiver. It sends out a signal to rescue crews that tells them exactly where we are, so it's just a matter of time before they come get us. In the meantime," she eyed the two candy bars on the shelf and reached for them, "we can play a few games, and the winner will get a piece of one of these chocolate bars, okay?"
The kids nodded and April smiled at Halie.
"That sounds like fun," April said. "Why don't you guys think of something to play while Halie and I see if we can find us all a way out."
After pushing against the shattered boards above them and crawling through the few open spaces that seemed as though they might lead somewhere, April and Halie realized in short order they were encased in a cement-like snow covered enclosure with no escape and would have to wait for help to find them.
"Let's test our cell phones," Halie whispered, "though I highly doubt we'll get reception under all this mess." They pulled out their phones. Neither got a signal.
"It doesn't matter," April said. "Rescuers wouldn't have gotten us out any quicker."
"I know, it's just--"
"I hear you, but it is what it is. Let's get back to the kids before they worry."
"Okay, no go on us finding a way out," April informed the kids. She sat in her spot again, "Which means we'll wait until they rescue us. Anyone come up with any ideas on what game they want to play?"
"We don't have any games," one of the girls said.
"Yeah," echoed other responses. "I didn't bring my Game Boy."
Halie was thankful for her recent visit to New Jersey. Had she not met Jessie and Katelynn, she'd have no idea what they could do either, since her nephews only played video games, rode bikes, and played sports. "Well, you guys are lucky because I have a fun game that doesn't need a board or batteries. It's sort of a word game. You guys interested?"
April lifted an eyebrow. "I'm curious."
"Me too," one of the girls called out.
"Great, so this is how we play." Halie gave everyone the basic fundamentals as they formed a circle on the floor. She was thankful she and the others wore ski clothes, the cold intensifying as they sat. "I'll start us out with names of animals. The game moves to the left. The first person who misses yelling out an answer, doesn't answer right away, or messes up on the beat, sits out the game until only one person's left. We'll start the first round slow, and then we'll pick up speed. The last one remaining gets a piece of the candy bar." Halie set the rhythm, just as she remembered Sam's niece Jessie had, with a mix of slaps on the thighs, clapping of the hands, and snapping of the fingers, to the beat: slap, slap, clap--snap, snap, "sheep."
To her left, the next girl followed Halie's lead. Slap, slap, clap--snap, snap, "donkey," and on it went. Halie was surprised how good the kids were at the game and had trouble keeping up with them as the speed of the game progressed and she was the first one out. Everyone laughed. She was thankful the distraction was working.
As Halie listened to the kids, the sounds of their voices faded and her thoughts drifted to Sam. She thought about the first time she saw the handsome ranger in Chief Thundercloud's office, and the unexpected reaction her body felt when she first shook Sam's hand and stared into those emerald green eyes, and felt the wonderful sensations all over again. She recalled the tense and precious moments they shared during her assignment at the park last summer. There were so many special moments, now that she had time to think about them, and she remembered their first kiss, a kiss that melted her heart and left her lightheaded. She remembered the first time they made love.
She wiped a tear from her cheek. She thought of all that Sam did for her in the short time she'd known her and all the caring and selfless things she did for others, and she longed to hold her in her arms and breathe sweet words in her ears, and love her fully and not let her go. She had wasted precious time by not showing Sam how much she cared for her. Having escaped death once, she should have known better. She'd never let anything get between them again, never let her work or fear control her, and resolved to make up for lost time if she was lucky enough to be given another chance.
Halie hadn't initially noticed Tommy moved from his spot until she felt the tug on her arm. Only three players remained in the game. April was one of them. "What's up?" Halie said.
Tommy whispered so only she could hear. "I wanted to tell you, in case we don't make it out of here, that I had nothing to do with the stuff Brian did to you guys. I told him you were good people and that he was being a jerk, but he wouldn't listen. He made me swear not to tell Mom. I wanted to tell her, I did, but I couldn't. I'm sorry."
Confusion etched itself across Halie's face. "Tell her what?"
"About Coco, the stuff with the house, the car, your fence--all of it. It wasn't all Brian's fault though. Since Dad left, he's been angry a lot, and he's been mad about all the time Mom spends at work. I think he blamed you. But his friend Toby Hodgeman was the one who pushed Brian to do stuff he didn't want to do, and Toby was the one that spray-painted your garage door, at least that's what Brian told me. Brian shouldn't have let him do it though, and I told him so."
"You did? That was very smart and brave of you to stand up to your brother. Don't worry about Brian though. I'll have a talk with your mom. You did the right thing."
Tommy inclined his head, apparently relieved to have the burden his brother placed on him lifted from his shoulders. He returned his attention to the game as Halie's hand touched his arm.
Of all the people she thought might have been the ones harassing them, Brian wasn't even on her radar screen. She partly understood what drove Brian, though his actions remained wrong, but what puzzled her most was how Brian's friend, someone so young, someone who didn't know them at all, could hold such hatred for them. Had his parents filled him with that much hate? Was it his teachers or relatives? He must have learned it from somewhere. The thought saddened her.
SAM HEARD THE muffled sound of sirens and hum of large engines, which she guessed might be snow removal equipment from Wyoming DOT. The cold quickly seeped through their clothes, making their wait for rescue that much more uncomfortable.
"I smell gas. It's making me nauseous," Corrine said.
"I know. I smell it too. We're going to have to find something else to try and dig free with, or at least dig a bigger hole for air. The plastic ice scraper's not cutting it."
"Yeah, but what?" Corrine said. A minute later she said, "I've got it. What about the wrench for the spare tire?"
"It's worth a shot. Where is it?"
"It's in the hatch area, under the pull up carpeting--in with the spare."
"I'll get it," Sam said as she crawled into the back and leaned over the seats into the rear of the SUV. She stretched out as far as she could to pull up the rug and compressed cardboard flooring and withheld a gag. She felt lightheaded and hoped she wouldn't pass out from the fumes.
"Did you find it?" Corrine asked.
"Yeah, I got it. It's just a matter of getting it out."
When Sam returned to the front of the vehicle, she thrust the metal bar from the tire jack into the snow, which was hard and compact. Small chunks broke free. She realized her effort was going to be futile, but kept at it.
"Hurry Sam, I feel like I can't breathe. My heart's racing. I can't stand this. I don't think we're going to make it."
"You're fine Corrine, try and relax. You're giving yourself a panic attack. We have air, and I can see light. Help is on the way, you have to believe that. I won't let anything happen to us, okay? I promise."
"If I could catch my breath, it might not be so bad," Corrine said.
"Corrine, sit back and focus on nothing except the air flowing in and out of your lungs. Every time your thoughts drift to something else, redirect them."
"I'll try."
"Good." While Corrine worked on calming herself, Sam plugged away at the snow. After several more minutes, her arms felt the strain. Suddenly, sh
e heard voices. "I think someone's coming."
Corrine opened her eyes. "Oh, God, I hope so," she said.
"We're down here!" Sam yelled. "Down here! Two of us!" Even with the shaft air and sun they had leading to the surface, Sam found her voice muffled, as if her yells merely bounced against padded walls. Then she turned to Corrine. "I hope someone heard that. Are you okay to dig for a while and then we'll switch places again? I need a rest. It's like chipping away at cement with an ice pick."
"Sure. I'm okay now. Thanks for the chat before. I'm sorry I lost it."
"It's okay. Under the circumstances, I think you're doing pretty darn good."
Sam and Corrine traded places, and several minutes later, Sam heard the rescuers above them. They called down and Corrine answered. Soon, firefighters armed with shovels were digging them out. Once a large enough opening was made, they got Corrine out of the passenger side of the vehicle first. Sam helped by pushing her as they pulled. Sam was next. As soon as they had her on top of the snow pack, she was wrapped in a blanket. "Thanks," she said to the fireman who pulled her free. "You don't know how happy I am to see you guys."
"Feeling's mutual, trust us," he said.
Sam knew exactly what he meant. There was nothing worse than arriving on the scene of an accident and losing the victims before you could rescue them. Once outside the car, Sam had a chance to look around. She realized how lucky they were. They'd rolled about a hundred and forty feet down the side of the mountain before a tree stopped them. Short of the pain she felt throughout her body, she and Corrine suffered only minor cuts from the broken glass and some symptoms due to the gas fumes, though the fresh air helped to quell the nausea. After a few more minutes, firefighters assisted them via rope up the hill. The farther up the side of the mountain they came, Sam got a clearer picture of the devastation and other cars partly buried and partly visible. Her legs wobbled slightly from the sight and the climb, but she continued on, as did Corrine.
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