by Willow Rose
"Oh, Jack, how…how…"
I moved and woke up Savannah. She sat up, grumbling, still half asleep. "Someone's here,” I said. "My wife found us."
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
I took her hand in mine and warmed it. "We're going to be fine, Savannah. I’m sure of it. I'll personally make sure you get to go home to your mother. I know you ran away from her. I know you were upset and angry at her, but you have to figure these things out. You're all she has right now, you hear me? She's the only mother you'll ever get, and suicide will never be a solution."
Savannah nodded. "I know. I’m sorry."
"Jack?" Shannon asked. "I am going to call the sheriff. He can help you up from there."
"Okay,” I yelled back, and she disappeared for a few minutes. The wait felt longer than anything, which was odd, but now that I had gotten my hopes up of actually surviving this, my patience got smaller, and I just wanted to get back so badly.
"I found a rope,” she yelled as she peeked over the edge again. “In one of the old houses. The sheriff is on their way, but I thought I'd lower my flashlight to you, so you can see."
"That is a great idea," I said and turned around to see better. Seconds later, I spotted something come toward us, dangling on the end of a rope. I grabbed the flashlight, then untied it and held it in my hand. I turned it on to better see where we were and how close we were to the edge. As the light turned on and I shone it on Savannah so she could look around her, a shot was fired from in between the trees on the other side of the valley.
63
"Savannah? Savannah? SAVANNAH?"
The girl wasn't moving. I knelt next to her, shining the light on her when another shot resounded through the crisp air. I shrieked and ducked down on top of her while turning off the flashlight. With that thing on, we were like sitting ducks.
"Savannah, are you okay? Savannah?" I said and turned her around. My hand felt something moist, and I knew right away that it wasn't snow. It felt sticky and thick between my fingers.
Oh, dear God, no! Please, don't let her be hurt.
"Can you hear me, Savannah?" I asked, leaning close to her mouth to listen if she was trying to speak. Her lips moved, but nothing but a gust of air came out from between them. Another shot was fired and, as I ducked, I heard Shannon scream above us, panic setting in.
"JACK!"
The shot echoed off the mountainsides and made it impossible to locate. I still tried to look in the direction I thought it was coming from, but I couldn't see anything in the darkness. The trees on the other side were dense and looked like dark shadows.
"Get down, Shannon," I yelled up at her. "Lay down or get cover somewhere. You risk getting hit."
"Are you okay, Jack?" she said, her voice quivering.
"I am, but Savannah is hurt. We need to get her out of here, fast. How long before the sheriff arrives?"
"I…I don't know. They were on their way, but the sheriff was still in bed. He said he'd come as fast as possible."
Another shot resonated and Shannon screamed again. My entire body trembled as I ducked down and covered Savannah. My cheek was smeared in her blood.
"We need to get out of here," I yelled up at her. "We can't stay down here any longer, or we'll all die."
"But…but how?" Shannon asked.
"Lower the rope, and I'll try and see if I can get it around her and you can pull her up," I said.
"But they'll shoot at her and at us."
"We have to take that chance," I said. "We can't stay here. She's lost a lot of blood already. Her shirt is soaked. She doesn’t have that long."
"Okay," Shannon said. "I'll try."
I exhaled, feeling hopeless. Shannon was strong, but I wasn't sure she'd be strong enough to pull Savannah up the side of a mountain. I still felt like we at least had to try.
Another shot blasted through the air, and I screamed and threw myself face flat in the snow. As I dropped down, my foot slid out over the edge, and soon I was skidding sideways toward the edge, grabbing for something to hold onto, but only finding snow and small rocks. I screamed as I slid toward the edge of the ledge, my fingers digging deep, desperate to find something, anything to grab, but not finding anything. Soon, I slid over the ledge and dropped into the abyss below.
64
"JAACK!"
The last thing she had heard from him was his scream. Shannon felt anxiety as it rushed through her body. Jack wasn't answering her anymore. What happened to him? Had he been shot?
Shannon was sitting behind the rock formation, hoping it would provide enough of a cover for her not to be hit by any of the projectiles. She felt like screaming but knew she had to keep her cool.
"Jack?" she said again. "Are you there, Jack?"
She closed her eyes in fear when there was no response. She took a few deep breaths, wondering what to do next. Something had happened to Jack, but she couldn't stand up and look over the cliff since she risked being shot. She couldn't just sit here either.
She heard a noise and opened her eyes just in time to see the sheriff and his deputies jump off the chairlift and rush toward her. Behind them followed a crew of mountain rescuers in their red suits, carrying a stretcher with them. The sight made Shannon almost burst into tears.
"What's going on?" Sheriff Franklin said, ducking down as he ran to her, a hand on his weapon. "We heard shots being fired."
"There's a shooter," Shannon said, breaking down and crying helplessly. "Someone's shooting at them down on the ledge. The girl was hit; Savannah is hit, and Jack isn't answering anymore."
The sheriff and his deputies pulled their guns and took cover.
"We need to get to them," Shannon said. "They're hurt. They need our help; please, help them."
Sheriff Franklin and Deputy Winston shared a look, and the sheriff nodded. Deputy Winston got up on his knees, then sliding himself forward, he reached the edge and peeked down, lying on his stomach. He shone a flashlight down there briefly, then returned.
"I see the girl. She's on a ledge further down, about ten feet. She's lying completely still, doesn’t seem to be conscious, didn't react when the beam of light hit her.
"Is she alive?" the sheriff asked.
Winston shrugged. "Hard to tell."
"What about Jack?" Shannon asked, panicking. "Did you see Jack?"
Winston shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"But he was down there,” Shannon said. “Just before. I spoke to him. He's there somewhere. He's got to be."
Sheriff Franklin looked troubled. "We need to get to the girl first; then we can look for Detective Ryder afterward."
Shannon knew they were right, but it still felt devastating to her. She took a deep breath and watched as the men in red suits found their gear and started lowering one of the rescuers into the darkness while the deputies kept in position, ready to reply if another shot should be fired.
Minutes that felt like hours went by while Shannon worried anxiously about Jack.
"I got her," the rescuer yelled as soon as he got Savannah strapped into the stretcher. Four men started to pull, and soon Savannah was placed on the ground next to Shannon. As she looked at her and the paramedics’ lights fell on her, Shannon gasped when she saw the amount of blood. Jack had been right. She had lost a lot of blood. The rescuers examined her, and then Shannon heard the sound of an approaching chopper that soon stopped above their heads. Shannon watched as Savannah was airlifted into the chopper and taken away, her heart bleeding for the girl, but also for Jack. Two of the rescuers went with her and only left two others behind. The rescuer they had lowered down there was still looking for him but hadn't found him yet.
"I'm gonna try and go lower yet," he said over the radio to the others.
As the minutes passed, Shannon listened to her own heartbeat grow quicker, while preparing herself for the worst. Would she make it as a single mom? Would she be able to handle six kids on her own? Would she be able to live without Jack at all? Did she want to?
The thoughts made her start to cry, and she pushed them away. There was another scratch on the radio, and the voice sounded again.
"I can't see anyone."
"Got it,” the sheriff replied. He looked at Shannon. "And you're absolutely sure he's down there, right?"
"Yes! Of course, he’s down there. I spoke with him just before, and then there was a shot, and then he…he screamed, and then he didn't say anything anymore. But I am telling you he's down there."
"He could have fallen into the denser part of the forest further down," the man said on the radio. "I have no way of getting in there."
Sheriff Franklin exhaled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Shannon. We…there's only a few hours to daybreak. Then it'll be easier to see him. We need more men to search the area down there. It's impassable; I’m afraid."
Shannon stared at him, mouth gaping. "So…what exactly are you saying? Are you telling me you're giving up; is that it?"
Sheriff Franklin held out a hand. "Not giving up, but we have to wait till I can get more men here."
"But…but why aren't they here already? And why can't they just go down there?" she said and pointed at the men standing by the edge, ready to help the rescuer get back up.
"We need men who are trained for this," the sheriff said. "I’ve called it in, and there's a patrol coming from Ashville, but it'll take about an hour or so. I’m sorry."
"An hour? He might be hurt! He might be bleeding to death down there, and you're telling me we have to wait an hour before we can even look for him? I can't believe this."
"As I said, I’m sorry, ma'am. We're doing everything we can to help find your husband."
Shannon stood to her feet, nostrils flaring. She stared into the darkness in front of her, then turned around and left.
65
"Wait for an hour. It'll be over my dead body," Shannon mumbled as she walked back to the western town. She kicked the snow angrily, then walked to a small cabin that had nothing to do with the rest of the amusement park. The door was easier to open this time than it had been earlier when she came looking for rope. She stared at the old pair of skis and the stretcher leaned up against the wall. The equipment had to be from the sixties, so it was old and outdated, but when she had seen it earlier, she had known this could be her last resort if it came to that.
She pulled everything out, then closed the door where the old weathered sign said SKI PATROL.
The wooden skis were very long and were going to be hard to maneuver, but luckily, Shannon had been a skier all her life, even back when the skis were longer and more difficult to maneuver. She even knew how to tie them to the old type of boots they wore back then. She put on the white uniform and then strapped the soft boots on.
The stretcher was worn out and could probably barely hold anyone, but she had to try. She exhaled deeply to remove the nervous feeling, then dragged the stretcher after her to the edge, choosing a place where the snow seemed thick and safe enough. Shannon paused as she looked down into the darkness, then glanced one last time toward the sheriff and his men. Sheriff Franklin was talking to his deputies when he saw her.
"Mrs. King? What are you doing?" he said and took a step toward her. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
"Sorry. I have to find him,” Shannon said, took in a deep breath, and let her skis drop over the edge.
"Mrs. King!" the sheriff yelled behind her. "STOP HER!"
But it was too late. Shannon was skidding down the icy side of the mountain, the skis sliding, unable to find a grip. Then she made a jump and landed in the thick snow, the stretcher following behind her. Now, Shannon had been skiing in powder snow her entire life, so she knew how to maneuver through it, even though she could barely see anything in the darkness. She took it one turn at a time, keeping her weight equal on both skis, making her turns round, keeping the speed high since if she went too slow, she'd not be able to float to the surface between the turns. Shannon knew the more aggressive she was, the better, and made sure she was keeping the rhythm, so she took the energy from one turn to the next, bouncing off the snow. She kept her composure tight, not knowing what might be underneath and ready to take that unexpected bump when it occurred, keeping her feet moving, flexing her legs like she was skiing moguls, sinking in and bouncing off the white powder, sometimes hitting icy parts and sliding sideways, at others getting stuck in the deep snow, finding it hard to ski out of it. But soon, she was past the ledge that Jack and Savannah had been on and narrowing in on the dense forest below.
"Jack?" she called. "Are you here? JACK?"
Shannon skied in between the trees, trying to slow down a little to make sure she didn't slam into a tree trunk as it grew denser still. She skied between them, taking short turns, zigzagging between the trees, looking ahead and constantly preparing for the next turn, remembering she had a stretcher that needed to come with her, making the turns just big and round enough for it to follow, yet keeping an aggressive stance.
"Jack?" she called out again as she rushed in and out between the trunks, missing one by an inch, and slamming the stretcher into it, making it fly.
"Shoot,” she said and stopped. The stretcher had been detached from her but seemed otherwise fine. She walked sideways up toward it and managed to grab it and reattach it to her when she heard someone moan.
"Sh…Shannon?"
66
"Jack? Is that you? Where are you?"
I could see a figure in the snow not far from me but wasn't sure if it was just a shadow. Not until it spoke. I had been woken up by cries that I was certain sounded like Shannon's voice.
"Shannon? Is that you?" I said, trying to move, but felt a sharp pain in my knee and remembered hitting it on a rock while sliding down the side of the mountain.
"Jack. Yes, it's me. Where are you, Jack? I can't see you."
"I see you. I’m behind you," I said as I reached forward, wincing in pain, then grabbed a small tree halfway covered in snow next to me and began to shake it violently. The leaves rustled and lumps of snow fell from it, but it made just enough movement for Shannon to see it.
"Over here!" I yelled.
The moving tree caught her eye, and soon she waved with her pole, almost screaming as she spoke.
"Now I see you, Jack. Stay where you are. Don't move a muscle. I am coming to you."
I let go of the branch, then leaned back in the thick snow, feeling the soreness in my entire body. Shannon approached me on her skis, then stopped and bent down to me.
"Oh, dear God, Jack. I was afraid I had lost you," she said, breathing raggedly from the heavy skiing. "Are you all right?" she asked, almost in tears. "Are you hurt?"
I nodded. "My knee and my back. I tried to get up but couldn't. I hurt my head too somehow when falling and passed out. I’m not…I’m still feeling dizzy."
"I need to get you down from this mountain and to a hospital as fast as possible," she said. "I brought a stretcher. I need to get you into it, and then I'll take you down."
"You can do that?" I asked, surprised.
"I actually worked as ski patrol back in college. I know how to do this."
I couldn't see her eyes properly but looked into them anyway, gratefulness overwhelming me.
"I think if you help me by lifting me up, then I can drag myself to the stretcher."
Shannon nodded. She unstrapped her skis, then sunk into the deep snow as she walked to my backside and reached down and pulled me up. It was hard for her because of the thick snow, but she managed to lift me just enough for me to grab the edge of the stretcher and roll myself onto it. Then she strapped me in till I couldn't move anymore and kissed me.
"You ready for this? I don't know the terrain, so I don't know what waits for us on the way down."
"You're amazing. Do I say that to you enough?"
Shannon chuckled and strapped her skis back on.
"I’ll expect to hear it more from now on. Now, hold on tight, you're in for a bumpy ride."
Pa
rt IV
67
It was probably the worst hangover of his entire life. When Douglas Rutherford woke up on the bank of the creek, he hardly knew where he was or how he had gotten there. It took him a few minutes of going back to the night before until he finally remembered.
Now, three days had passed, and he had been hiding in an empty cabin where he had looked for shelter after waking up, soaked and freezing. It had a small fireplace that he used, and the people who had been there last had been kind enough to leave a couple of cans of food that he lived on. The closet had clothes that he could change into. There was also a first aid kit that he had used to bandage his shin. He had lucked out, and it didn’t seem like it needed stitches after all.
And best of all, he hadn't had a drink in those three days, making his thinking clearer and his judgment a lot better. He didn't dare to leave the cabin, fearing the killer might see him and try to finish him off once again, so he had decided to wait a few days until things calmed down and no one would be looking for him anymore.
Did the killer think he was dead? That's what he hoped. If he stayed hidden long enough, the killer would have to reach that conclusion at some point, right? Or maybe there would need to be a body before his attempted killer would give up.
Douglas sighed deeply and went down on his knees to put more wood in the fireplace, wondering how long he would be able to hide in this place and where he would go when he ran out of food.
There's only one way this gets solved, and you know it. You can't run from the truth anymore. You have to tell.
68
"Knock, knock. Anyone home?"
I exhaled, relieved when Shannon peeked inside my hospital room. Her smile lit up all the grayness and dull light.
"Boy, am I glad to see you."
I sat up straight as she entered, my back still in pain. I grunted, annoyed at feeling like an old man who couldn't even move around properly in bed.