Black Ice

by Becca Fitzpatrick

  "Both of you, in the den," he directed in a cold, detached voice. "We can do this the easy way, or the way that gets you killed. And believe me, if you scream or fight or argue, I will shoot."

  I stared back, my body numb. That bizarre urge to laugh continued to tickle my throat. And then I saw Shaun's eyes. They were cold and unfeeling, and I wondered how I'd missed it before.

  He said, "If there's one thing you need to know about me, it's that I don't bluff. Your bodies won't be found for days, and by then Ace and I will be through the mountains and far from here. We've got nothing to lose. So, girls." He watched us. "What's it gonna be?"

  CHAPTER SIX

  Icy fear fluttered in my veins, but I did exactly as he directed.

  Rising from the kitchen table, I numbly allowed Shaun to corral me out of the room. Korbie was directly behind me, and I heard her sniffling. I knew what she was thinking, because it was the same thought racing through my own mind: How long until Calvin realized we were in trouble and came looking for us?

  And when he did, how would he find us given the snow, the possibility that I'd taken a wrong turn, and the fact that we'd hiked a good distance from the car? There was no logical way for him to find us.

  Shaun marched us through the den and opened a door, revealing a small, unfinished storage room with empty plastic shelves lining the walls. At first I thought it was a water pipe running from the floor to the ceiling, but when he flipped on the light, I saw that it was a solid metal pole. Something about the pole only made the room more terrifying. There were nicks along the shaft, nicks that could have been made by friction from a chain. The rank smell of urine and wet dog permeated the enclosed space. I had to will myself not to speculate further.

  Shaun told Mason, "Keep Korbie here. I want to talk to Britt alone."

  "You can't do this!" Korbie shrieked. "Do you know who I am? Do you have any idea who I am?"

  The last word had barely escaped when Shaun smacked the gun across her face. A red welt sprang up in its path.

  I gasped. My dad never touched me roughly. He never raised his voice to me. Outside of television and movies, I had only seen a man strike another person once. Years ago, I'd been invited to sleep over at Korbie's, and in the middle of the night, I'd crawled out of bed for a drink. In the shadows of the hallway outside her bedroom, I watched Mr. Versteeg give a sharp blow to Calvin's head, knocking him flat on his back. Mr. Versteeg barked for Calvin to get up and take his discipline like a man, but Calvin lay there, unmoving. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. Mr. Versteeg pried open his son's eyelids and felt his neck for a pulse. Then he carried him to bed. I hurried back to Korbie's bed, but I didn't fall asleep. I didn't know if Calvin was okay. I wanted to check on him, but what if Mr. Versteeg returned? I never told Calvin what I saw. I spent years trying to scrub that memory from my mind.

  Korbie whimpered, clutching her cheek.

  Just like that night outside Korbie's bedroom, I felt hot and sick, and I wanted to cry, even though Korbie was hurting, not me.

  I caught a flash of something dark and loathsome in Mason's eyes, but he blinked it away and obediently guided Korbie into the storage room while Shaun steered me down the hall to the bathroom with a rough prod of his gun. He jerked his head at the toilet seat. "Sit."

  He left the door ajar, a crack of light spilling into the room. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the shadows. Slowly, his face took shape, his eyes becoming dark holes that watched me, judging, calculating, evaluating.

  "The cabin isn't yours, is it?" I asked quietly. "It doesn't belong to you."

  He ignored me, but I already knew the answer.

  "Did you break in?" I continued. "Are you and Mason in trouble?" If the police were searching for them, I worried what it meant for Korbie and me. We could identify them. We knew other information too, like what cars they drove. I could direct police to the security cameras at the 7-Eleven and show them exactly what Mason looked like. Korbie and I were a liability. There was nothing stopping Shaun from killing us.

  He laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "Do you really think I'm going to answer your questions, Britt?" He braced a fist against the wall, leaning over me. "The gear you told us about earlier. We need it."

  "It's in my car."

  "Can you find your way back?"

  I was about to give a surly no when the faintest worry scratched at the edge of my mind. Instinctively, I said, "Yes, I think so."

  He nodded, his gun-hand relaxing, and I knew I'd given the right answer. "How far?"

  "In the snow, we could walk it in about an hour."

  "Good. Now tell me the best way out of the mountains on foot. No roads or trails. I want to stay in the woods."

  I flinched. "You want to go on foot? Through the trees?"

  "We leave tonight. As soon as we get the gear and supplies."

  Shaun was definitely in trouble. If we were going through the forest, it was to avoid being seen. I couldn't think of a single other explanation. Hiking through the forest--at night, in a storm--was dangerous. I didn't need Calvin's expertise to know that. By now, several inches of snow blanketed the ground. Trekking through it would be bitterly cold and slow. If we became stranded, no one would discover us.

  "Do you know the way or not?" Shaun asked.

  The thought that had been scratching wildly at the back of my brain broke through at that moment and made me see with clarity what Shaun was doing. This was a test. I was up first, followed by Korbie. He'd weigh our answers. He needed to know we could navigate him off the mountain. Otherwise, we were worthless to him.

  Forcing myself to be brave, I looked at him squarely. "I've been coming to these mountains for years. I know my way around. I've backpacked parts of the Teton Crest Trail multiple times, and I've hiked all over the mountain range. I can get you off it. It will be a lot harder traveling through a snowstorm, but I can do it."

  "This is useful, Britt. Good work. I need you to take us somewhere where I can lift a car. What do you say to that?" Shaun leaned in close, resting his hands on his knees. His face was level with mine, and I could see his mind working rapidly behind his eyes. If I blew this, it was over.

  "I'll take you through the forest to the highway. It will be one of the first roads they plow." I didn't know where the highway was in relation to us. I didn't even know where we were. But I had Calvin's map. If Shaun left me alone for a few minutes, I might be able to use it to determine our location and figure out which direction we should travel. I wanted to take Shaun to the highway. A highway meant cars. People. Help.

  "How far to the highway?"

  "Six miles," I guessed. "But we won't be taking a direct route. Maybe seven?"

  "That's my girl." He stuck his head out the door and hollered to Mason, while I shut my eyes in relief. I'd passed this portion of the test. I'd kept us alive a little longer. Granted, the hardest part--convincing them I knew what I was doing once we were hiking through the trees--was yet to come. "Time to switch. Korbie's up next."

  Korbie and I didn't speak as we passed. Our eyes met briefly, and I saw that hers were red and glassy. Her nose was swollen, and her bottom lip trembled. My own fingers started to shake, and I squeezed them into fists. I gave her a nod; a secret message passed between us. Calvin and Bear will find us.

  But I didn't fully believe it.

  Outside, the wind pushed big, wet snowflakes against the storage room window. The snow swirled, making me think of schools of tiny white fish.

  Choosing a spot farther down the wall, so that the pole wasn't directly in my line of vision, I leaned back and hugged my knees to my chest. The iciness outside seeped through the cement walls, and I immediately jerked ramrod straight.

  "I'm cold," I told Mason, who stood between me and the door, guarding it. The picture was almost comical. Did he think I was going to barrel past him? And go where--into the storm?

  "Can you at least bring me my coat?" I persisted. I had my red scarf, which I'd worn all evening, but it wasn
't enough against the chill. "I think I left it in the kitchen."

  "Nice try."

  "What do you think I'm 'trying'?"

  He didn't respond.

  "It would be tragic if I ran off into the forest and got lost, wouldn't it?" I went on, feeling angry suddenly. "Then you'd have no one to help you off the mountain. Are you and Shaun in trouble? What did you do? Are you running from the police? That's it, isn't it?"

  Mason remained closemouthed.

  "What happened at the 7-Eleven earlier?" I'd intended to sound tough and accusatory, but my voice broke on the last syllable, revealing my hurt. "If you're really a cold-hearted criminal, why did you help me?"

  He glanced at me with cool detachment. At least he'd acknowledged me. It was halfway to a response.

  "You played along," I continued. "You tricked my ex-boyfriend. You knew my name. Who was that guy?"

  "Your name was printed on your T-shirt."

  "I know that," I said tersely. "The point is, you took the time to read it and care. You were a different person. You helped me. And now you're holding me hostage. I want an explanation."

  His face returned to impassive.

  "Do you and Shaun really think you can pull this off? The storm will blow over, and people will fill the mountainside again. You won't be able to hold Korbie and me hostage and keep it a secret. People will see the four of us in the forest together--hikers and campers and park rangers. They'll want to talk, because that's what people do in the mountains. They're friendly and observant. They'll know something is wrong."

  "Then keep us far away from those people."

  "The deeper I take you into the forest, the greater the chance we'll get lost."

  "Don't get lost."

  "I know you're not like Shaun," I said, refusing to give up. "You didn't want to let us inside the cabin tonight. It's because you knew this would happen, didn't you? That Shaun would take us hostage. And you tried to prevent it."

  "Even if that were the case, it didn't work."

  "Do you really think Shaun will kill us? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

  "Why would I do that?" he said crossly. "I'm in this for myself. If you're worried about what's going to happen to you, start focusing on getting us off the mountain. Do that and we'll let you go."

  "How do I know that?"

  He merely looked at me.

  "You're lying," I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. "You're not going to let us go."

  The contours of his face tightened. I feared I had my answer.

  A wild idea shot into my brain. It was risky, but if Korbie and I were going to die, I had to do something. Mason and Shaun didn't need both of us to get them off the mountain--they only needed me. Shaun already believed Korbie was useless. She hadn't prepared for this trip the way I had, and it showed. I didn't think I could get us both out of this mess, but I had a shot at getting Korbie out safely. I just had to reaffirm in Shaun's mind that she was worthless and nonthreatening. And that he was better off leaving her behind.

  I swallowed hard. I had never considered myself brave. I was the spoiled daddy's girl. If I went through with this, it meant leaving Korbie. I didn't know if I had the courage to hike into the forest alone with Shaun and Mason.

  But I didn't see any other choice.

  "Korbie has type one diabetes," I said. "She has to take insulin. Without it, she'll go into a coma. If it lasts long enough, it's fatal." Once, at summer camp, Korbie and I convinced our camp counselor that Korbie had diabetes and wasn't feeling well enough to help out with the service project. While the rest of the girls picked up trash along the river, Korbie and I stole ice cream sandwiches from the kitchen and ate them in our cabin. If Shaun or Mason quizzed Korbie about having diabetes, I was confident Korbie would remember our ruse, know I was planning something, and go along with it.

  "You're lying."

  "She takes Humalog and Lantus daily. She has to keep her blood sugar level as close to normal as possible." I knew about type 1 diabetes because my older brother, Ian, had it. If Mason pressed for more information, I had an abundance of it. I could sell this story.

  "Where's her medication?"

  "In the car. It's frozen by now, which means it has to be thrown out. She isn't going to last long without insulin. This is serious, Mason. You have to let her go. I can tell Shaun doesn't care if we live or die, but you don't want Korbie's death on your hands, do you?"

  Mason studied me closely. "You haven't been here that long. The medication might not be frozen. Tell me how to get to your car. I'll get the insulin."

  "We've been here two hours. That insulin is frozen solid."

  Something undecipherable flitted over his features. Before I could nail down the emotion, a shadow moved in the doorway, and I realized Shaun was standing there. I didn't know how much he'd heard, but his eyes appeared sharp and attentive. A ponderous frown tugged at his mouth.

  "Insulin? That doesn't sound good," he said at last.

  "I'll get it," Mason told him. "And I'll grab their gear while I'm at it. I'll take Britt with me. She can show me the way."

  My heart leaped at this sudden turn of events. If I went with Mason, I could try to find Calvin. He had to be looking for Korbie and me by now, searching the roads near Idlewilde. How many wrong turns could I have made? One? We had to be close to Idlewilde. Five miles away at most.

  "No," said Shaun. "Britt stays here. I don't want to risk anything happening to her, since she's our ticket off this mountain. Britt, tell Mason where to go. No games. If he's not back in two and a half hours, I'm gonna have to assume you lied." His frown deepened. "Believe me, you don't want to lie to me."

  I had to convince Shaun to let me go outside. "You won't know what you're looking for," I told Mason. "Have you ever seen insulin or an insulin pen before?"

  "I'll figure it out."

  "I don't remember exactly where I packed them--"

  "It's a car." Mason cut me off. "It won't take long to search the whole thing. You drive an orange Wrangler, right?"

  I flinched. "How do you know that?"

  "The gas station," he replied brusquely. Before I could press, he continued, "How do I get to your car from here?"

  "It would be easier if I went with you."

  "No," Shaun repeated firmly.

  Sweat dampened my skin. My chance was slipping away. If I didn't find Calvin before we hiked into the forest, I would probably die out there. Just as worrisome, Shaun was going to figure out I'd lied about the insulin. The whole story was unraveling.

  I could give Mason the wrong directions to the Wrangler, but if I sent him wandering for hours, Shaun would know I'd tricked him. I didn't have any option but to tell him where the car was.

  And devise a backup lie. When Mason returned without the insulin, I would say that I must have forgotten to pack it. I would suddenly remember having left it on my kitchen counter at home. Maybe it was better this way. If they didn't think they had the medication to save Korbie, they'd be more likely to leave her behind. Especially if they believed she was going to die anyway. In fact, Shaun might think that he wouldn't be pinned for Korbie's murder if she died of natural causes.

  "If you're facing the cabin, we approached from the left," I said. "Cut through the trees until you reach the main road. Follow it downhill to my car."

  "I should be able to follow your footprints most of the way," Mason said. "Snow's coming down hard, but I'll be able to tell where it's been disturbed."

  After Mason left, Shaun pointed a warning finger at me. "Stay here and don't make noise. I need to think."

  He turned the storage room light off, but left the door cracked. I stood alone, willing myself not to cry. My breath came in short, erratic pants, and I bit down on my fist to muffle the sound. A far-off worry was beginning to creep into the back of my mind. What if I couldn't convince Shaun to leave Korbie behind? If he dragged her along, she'd never make it. Even if she could withstand the rigorous and dangerous hike to the highway, I
feared her personality would push Shaun to lash out violently.

  I blinked my eyes dry, sniffling until I felt composed. I had to be smart. My best tool now was my brain. I had to use this time to evaluate my situation.

  I went over everything I knew about Mason and Shaun. Shaun had a gun. That meant he was the ringleader. Or did it? Mason didn't seem the lackey type. I didn't have a good read on their friendship. I felt a strained push-and-pull between them, an unwilling juggle of power. Most of the time Mason let Shaun have his way. But not out of fear. I saw the way Mason watched Shaun when Shaun wasn't looking. The icy glint in his eyes ran deeper than contempt. Derision, maybe. And I could be imagining it, but he seemed to calculate Shaun's every move, almost like he was hunting for weaknesses and storing the information to use later. But why?

  Through the door, I caught glimpses of Shaun as he paced in front of the dying fire. He'd put on a black cowboy hat, a Stetson, tilting it to shade his eyes. Maybe it was a reach, but I couldn't help remembering that Lauren Huntsman had supposedly disappeared from Jackson Hole with a cowboy wearing a black Stetson. The idea that Shaun could be that man caused a violent chill to shudder through me.

  I watched Shaun march back and forth, chewing at a hangnail on the thumb of his left hand. His shoulders were hunched, his legs stiff, the muscles of his jaw clenched in concentration. He looked tightly wound.

  Like he might snap at any moment.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I'd drifted asleep.

  Rolling slowly to my knees, I cringed at the soreness spiking along my shoulder, down through my hip. The cement floor provided no comfort or warmth. Wiping drool at the corner of my mouth, I shivered violently. The storage room door had been shut, leaving me in darkness. A frigid draft from the thin windowpane prickled my skin. Snow was still coming down, but not the big, swirling flakes of earlier; now tiny grains drilled into the window like hurled sand.

  I didn't know how much time had passed, but the sky was full dark. I didn't hear Shaun pacing the den. I didn't hear Korbie's quiet sobs from the bathroom.

  To keep my mind busy, and not focus on how scared I was, I mentally went over the cabin layout, what I'd seen of it anyway, and took stock of escape routes. The front door was the only exit I knew of to the outside, and it was at the opposite end of the cabin. I'd have to run down the hall and get Korbie, then backtrack through the den and down the entryway hall, all without Shaun hearing or seeing me. Plus, I didn't know where Shaun had put our coats. We wouldn't last long in the storm without them. And even if we made it outside, where would we go? No one would be driving in these conditions--there would be no one to help us.