Black Ice

by Becca Fitzpatrick

  Calvin then pulled a wooden board from the duffel. The alphabet was printed in swirling black font on the face of the board. The numbers one through ten were printed below the alphabet. I knew right away it was a Ouija board. My dad wouldn't let me or Ian play with them. In Sunday School, my teacher told me the Ouija board had the power of the devil. A shudder tiptoed up my spine.

  Calvin then pulled a small, triangular device with a window encased at the center from the duffel and set it on the board.

  "What is it?" Korbie asked.

  "A Ouija board," I answered. I glanced at Calvin, and he nodded his head approvingly.

  "What does it do?"

  "It uses mediums--spirits--to answer your questions," Calvin said.

  "Don't you have to hold hands when using the Ouija board?" I asked, hoping the rumors I'd heard were true, and that I'd look knowledgeable in front of Calvin.

  "Kinda," Calvin said. "Two people place their fingers on the pointer. I guess there's a chance your fingertips could touch."

  I scooted closer to him.

  "I'm not touching your gross, sweaty hand," Korbie told him. "I'll start smelling like your jockstrap. I've seen you with your hand down your pants when you think no one's looking."

  Korbie and I covered our mouths in a fit of giggles, but Calvin simply said, "You guys are so immature. I can't wait until I can hold an actual conversation with you."

  Me too, I thought dreamily.

  "Ready?" Calvin asked us, gazing earnestly into our faces. "There's only one rule: No pushing the pointer. You have to let it move on its own. You have to let the spirits guide it, because only they can see the future."

  "Do you think there's a ghost in here?" Korbie stage-whispered, while muffling more giggles.

  Calvin shone the flashlight around the tent, into the corners. It wasn't a big tent, but he wanted us to see that we were completely alone. If the pointer moved, it would be by preternatural means alone. "Ask it anything," he told us. "Ask it about your future."

  Will I marry Calvin Versteeg? I thought.

  "If this really works, I'm gonna pee my pants," Korbie said.

  I was scared of the Ouija board, and scared my dad would find out I'd played with it, so I was grateful when Calvin said, "I'll go first."

  In a quiet, ceremonious voice, he asked the Ouija, "Of the three of us, who is going to die first?"

  I swallowed, staring nervously at the pointer. My heart felt tight in my chest, and I realized I'd stopped breathing. Korbie had been joking about wetting her pants, but I felt like I actually might.

  At first the pointer didn't move. I met Korbie's eyes, and she shrugged. And then, slowly, the device began to glide toward the black letters.

  C.

  "I'm not pushing it, I swear," Korbie said, glancing anxiously at Calvin.

  "Quiet," Calvin chided. "I never said you were."

  A.

  "Oh, gosh," Korbie said. "Oh, gosh. Oh, gosh!"

  L.

  "I'm scared," I said, covering my eyes. But I couldn't stand the suspense, and splayed my fingers, peering through them.

  "How does Calvin die?" Korbie whispered at the board.

  R-O-P.

  "Rop?" I said, unsure if this was a real answer. "Does it mean 'rope'?"

  Calvin vigorously motioned me to be quiet.

  "Who kills me?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

  D-A-D.

  Something happened in the tent then. A muscle in Calvin's jaw jumped, like he was clamping his teeth together real hard. He rocked back on his haunches, and his brows tugged together as he gazed almost hatefully at the Ouija board.

  "Dad would never kill you," Korbie insisted softly. "It's just a game, Calvin."

  "Don't be so sure," he murmured at last. "He handpicks my friends and decides which sports I can play. He reviews every homework assignment and makes me redo most of them. He'll probably choose where I go to college and who I marry. Britt was right--the Ouija meant 'rope.' And dad's doing a great job of strangling me already."

  It wasn't a pleasant memory, but I couldn't focus on anything good while I was trapped in the storage room with a dead body. The thought of Cal all those years ago reminded me to cut him some slack. He'd never had it easy growing up. He may have cheated on me, and hurt me when he'd ended things between us, but he wasn't a bad person.

  And if he saved us, I promised myself I would forgive him for everything.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The body in the toolbox still haunted my thoughts when the last of the snow fell. I was curled on the floor, trying to fall asleep so I'd forget about how cold I was, when Shaun opened the storage room door. The blackness in the room was so complete that the shaft of light coming through the door seemed to pierce my eyes.

  "Get up. We're leaving."

  I was in that groggy in-between place, caught halfway between sleep and wakefulness. He ground his boot into my ribs, and I bolted upright.

  "Where's Mason?" I asked automatically.

  "Getting Korbie. They're meeting us outside." He dropped my coat and a large bundle at my feet. "Strap this on."

  I tried to keep the despair off my face. He was bringing Korbie. I had taken a huge risk in lying about the insulin, but it hadn't been enough to convince Shaun to leave her behind. I had to accept that she wasn't going for help. No one would find us now. I felt the nightmare rising over my head.

  After dressing in my outerwear, I hoisted the backpack onto my shoulders, the weight of it throwing off my center of balance. I was glad I'd practiced carrying my pack for months, gradually increasing the weight over time. I'd have to find a way to slip a few of Korbie's supplies into my pack. Otherwise, I was sure she'd never last--she hadn't trained with me, since she'd been counting on Bear to carry the heavy gear.

  "You've got two sleeping bags, ground mats, toilet paper, and a few layers of clothing Ace grabbed from the duffel in your car," Shaun said. "Ace and I have the granola bars from your car, water, the fire starter, headlamps and flashlights, canteens, blankets, and compasses--yours, and one Ace already had." His eyes pierced mine with menacing effect. "Run off, and you won't last long."

  "What time is it?"

  "Three."

  Three in the morning. I'd slept a little, then. Hopefully, Korbie had too. We were going to need energy to hike over the rough terrain. "I have to use the bathroom."

  "Make it fast."

  In the bathroom, I reviewed Calvin's map one more time. I closed my eyes, letting the landmarks sink deep. Then I folded the map and tucked it away, inside my shirt, pressed against my heart, where I'd feel him with me. I wrapped my red scarf around my head, improvising something of a ski mask out of it. As the soft fabric rubbed my cheek, I thought of my dad, who had given the scarf to me. I tried to remember if I had hugged him hard, making it last, before I'd said good-bye.

  Shaun and I trudged outside into the darkness. The snow came to the tops of my boots--and the surrounding trees looked as if they'd been painted with ice. The wind had died and a full moon was out, casting eerie, smoky-blue light on the glittering snow. I could hear the crunch of it with every step; the top layer was frozen, but beneath that my boots sank easily into the powder.

  My breath clouded when I spoke. "Where are Mason and Korbie?"

  "They got a head start. We'll catch up."

  "They know the way to the highway?" I asked, puzzled. I thought that was why Mason and Shaun needed me.

  "We're testing the compasses. Just follow me."

  Shawn cradled a compass in the palm of his hand, but something wasn't right. Testing compasses? Separate from each other? Frowning, I said, "We should have stayed together as a group."

  "You," he said, spinning abruptly and pushing his face close to mine, "don't give the orders."

  I shrank back in alarm. He continued to glare at me, then cut through the tense silence with an uncanny chuckle. I didn't want to travel alone with Shaun, but I didn't have a choice. Right now, my best option was to stay out of his way
. We'd meet up with Mason and Korbie soon. With Mason close by, I didn't think Shaun would hurt me. It wasn't that I'd decided to trust Mason. But he'd lied about the insulin to cover for me, and that had to mean something.

  We continued our slow, steady pace down the mountainside. Shaun's gaze flickered between the compass and the tunnel of darkness ahead. If the snow didn't start up again, we'd leave a path leading away from the cabin. I prayed Calvin would find it.

  Minutes later a shadowy form emerged from the trees ahead. At first I thought I'd imagined it, but the shape of a man became more distinct the closer he got. My heart soared at this sudden turn of events. Someone else, someone who could help me. Shaun must have seen the man too, because he swung his headlamp in that direction, bathing the man in a cone of light.

  "You found us," Shaun called in good spirits.

  My heart dropped as Mason shielded his eyes from the glare of the headlamp. "Lower your light."

  Shaun held his compass side by side with Mason's, comparing them. "Looks like they're both working now. Crisis averted."

  Mason glanced at me. "The generator at the cabin was causing your compass to reverse. But it appears to be working now."

  "Where's Korbie?" I asked, searching the woods behind Mason, waiting for her to appear out of the black backdrop.

  Mason and Shaun exchanged a look, but neither answered.

  "Where is she?" I tried again, feeling the first scratch of hope--and panic. Mason's eyes shifted, avoiding mine. What weren't they telling me?

  "She's back at the cabin," Shaun finally said.

  I blinked in confusion. "What?"

  "We're short on supplies," he said harshly. "We only brought what we need. And we don't need her. Especially if she's sick."

  His words hummed inside me, leaving me excited but cautious. I didn't want to hope too soon. "But you said we were all going together."

  "I know what I said, but that's changed. Korbie's staying at the cabin. She doesn't know the mountains like you do and she's a liability."

  I came to a halt. My whole body vibrated with hope and relief. They'd left Korbie behind. If she could last a day without food, until the snow melted, she'd make it out all right. She could go for help. Even better, Calvin might see the cabin lights and find her. She'd tell him everything, and he'd come for me. I just had to be brave a little longer.

  And react to this change in program in a way that Shaun would expect. I couldn't let him know I'd hoped for this, that I had a secret plan.

  "We have to go back!" I said. "I'll get you off the mountain, but first we have to get Korbie. We ate the last of the food. If the pipes freeze, she'll run out of water. It could take days for someone to find her. We have to go back."

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Shaun drag his gun from the pocket of his parka. His expression was uncaring. "The faster you get us out of the mountains, the more time you'll have to come back and save your friend."

  I looked him head-on, even though he frightened me. My stomach curled as I recalled wanting to kiss him. I'd never been so wrong about a person in my life. A warm, sour taste rose in my throat. I'd been so desperate for attention, to prove something to Korbie, I'd actually fallen for this monster's act.

  Now I was beginning to see the situation with true clarity. Shaun believed he'd left Korbie for dead. And he felt no remorse. Once I helped him and Mason off the mountain, there was nothing stopping him from dealing me the same fate. I'd saved Korbie, but there was no guarantee on my own life.

  I bent sideways and emptied my stomach.

  "Leave her alone," Mason told Shaun. "You're making it worse. We need her focused."

  Mason kicked snow over my mess, and handed me a wad of toilet paper from his coat pocket. When I didn't take it right away, he gently wiped my mouth dry.

  When he spoke, I expected his voice to sound curt, but instead his words were underscored with weariness. "Take a minute to pull yourself together, Britt. Then get us to the highway."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Calvin Versteeg was my first crush. My childhood love for him grew and grew over the years and was sealed on his tenth birthday. I remembered that magical, woozy feeling of knowing with certainty that he was the one.

  Even though Calvin was two years older than me, he was only one grade level ahead. He had an August birthday, and his parents had held him back a year before kindergarten to give him an extra year of growth and a better shot at excelling in sports. It was a good move. By sophomore year, Calvin had earned a spot on the boys' varsity basketball team. Junior year, his name was on the starting roster.

  We drove to Jackson Lake in the Versteegs' Suburban. Calvin and his two friends called dibs on the back row. Korbie and I were stuck in the middle row, closest to her parents. Every time we turned around to eavesdrop on Calvin and his friends, he would grab our heads and knock them together.

  "Mom!" Korbie howled. "Calvin's hurting us!"

  Mrs. Versteeg looked over her shoulder. "Leave your brother alone. Talk to Britt, or play with your My Little Ponies. They're in the case under your seat."

  "Yeah," Calvin snickered under his breath. "Play with your ponies. I bet they have a surprise for you."

  Korbie snatched up the case and flung it open on her lap. "Moooom!" She screeched so loud it made my eardrums vibrate. "Calvin cut off my ponies' hair!" She flipped around in her seat, color flooding her cheeks. "I'm gonna kill you!"

  "What's the big deal?" Calvin said, grinning devilishly. "Mom will buy you new ones."

  I remembered thinking Calvin was the meanest big brother ever. Worse than my brother, Ian, who hid in my closet, then jumped out and yelled "Boo!" after I turned out the light. Being scared was a lot better than having bald My Little Ponies.

  Of course, Calvin made up for it halfway through the day. After spending the afternoon water-skiing, he and his friends caught frogs by the lake, and Calvin let me name his frog. Even though I picked a stupid name--Smoochie--Calvin let it stick.

  Later that night, when we were lined up to use the bathroom before the long drive home, I whispered in Calvin's ear, "You're not so bad."

  He tweaked my nose. "Don't you forget it."

  As we piled into the Suburban, nobody called dibs on seats. We were too tired. Somehow, I ended up sitting next to Calvin. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He didn't nudge me away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "You sure we're going the right way?"

  Careful not to be seen, I folded Calvin's map along the worn seams and tucked it down my neckline and into my bra. I shut my eyes briefly, blocking out the distraction of Shaun's voice carrying through the trees as I committed the scribbled notes and topography to memory. The farther we hiked, and the more landmarks we passed, the more certain I was that I knew where we were.

  Zipping up my jeans, I stepped out from behind the pine tree that had served as my privacy screen, and answered stoically, "You tell me. You've got the compasses. Are we heading south?"

  "The scenery isn't changing any," Shaun complained, flicking open his compass to make sure he'd kept us on course. "It doesn't seem like we're getting anywhere."

  He was right. We'd been traveling for hours, but it was all about perspective. On Calvin's map, we'd hardly eaten up a few millimeters.

  "I thought the highway was southeast of the cabin," Mason said, frowning slightly.

  A tremor of fear shot through me, but I pulled on an unflustered face. "It is. But we have to skirt a small lake. We'll turn east once we're around it. I thought you didn't know the area."

  "I don't," he answered slowly. "But I glanced over a map at the gas station yesterday." His frown deepened, a look of concentration and recall shadowing his expression. "I could be remembering wrong."

  "Well, which way is it?" Shaun snapped. "One of you is right."

  "I'm right," I said confidently.

  "Ace?" Shaun prompted.

  Mason rubbed his jaw in a thoughtful, considering way, but said nothing more. A whole min
ute must have passed before I was able to breathe easy. Because Mason was right. The fastest way to the highway was to travel southeast. But now that I knew where we were, I wasn't taking them to the highway. According to Calvin's map, if we shifted our course due south, we'd run into a ranger patrol cabin.

  Based on my calculations, we'd be there before sunup.

  The moon had been out most of the night, but shortly before dawn, a new embankment of clouds rolled in, leaving us once again in that indescribable shade of wilderness black. The wind had picked up again too, whipping through the trees and chafing our faces.

  We resorted to headlamps, even though Mason had made it clear we needed to conserve the batteries. The package instructions said each headlamp had only a three-hour life span.

  My back ached from the weight of my pack. My legs, stiff with cold, moved over the snow in shorter and slower strides. Except for a brief nap at the cabin, I hadn't slept in almost twenty-four hours. My vision slid in and out of focus as I tried to concentrate on the monotonous carpet of crystalline white extending in every direction. I fantasized what it would feel like to lie in the snow, shut my eyes, and dream myself somewhere else, anywhere else.

  "I have to go to the bathroom again," I said, coming to a stop and catching my breath. We weren't moving quickly, but the continuous weight of my pack and the jarring impact of hiking down the steep, rugged slopes were taking their toll.

  "You're giving her too much water," Shaun complained to Mason. "She's pissing every hour." He turned on me. "Make it quick."

  Mason helped me out of my backpack and rested it against a tree before shrugging out of his own pack. He did a few shoulder rolls, and I knew the weight was starting to get to him too.

  "Ignore him," he told me, and while there wasn't kindness in his voice, it wasn't filled with contempt, either. More matter-of-fact. He handed me his headlamp. "Take five."

  I walked a short distance, then stepped behind a pine tree. I switched off the headlamp and peered back through the branches, watching them. Shaun was relieving himself in the open, and Mason leaned his forearm on a tree, cradling his face in the crook of his elbow. If a person could sleep standing up, it would look like that, I thought. Of the three of us, Mason was the most powerfully built, so it took me by surprise that he seemed to be handling the hike the worst. He peeled off a glove and rubbed his eyes, looking increasingly exhausted.