Chapter 47
After only a few minutes’ skiing in the heavy snow, Olivia is regretting her decision. She should never have challenged the boys, never suggested the West Ravine. She could have been on the way home by now, if she’d kept her mouth shut.
Instead she is in the middle of the run, heading straight for the horrific gap where the ravine begins.
Her thigh muscles are screaming as she forces herself down the slope, each turn is more difficult than the last. It is such hard work fighting with the heavy surface beneath her skis, the lactic acid has begun to spread through her legs, sweat is pouring down the back of her neck.
She knows it is important to ski fast on powder snow. If you go too slowly, you become stuck and get nowhere. At the same time, the run is so steep that she has to hold back.
She dare not go as fast as she could, when it feels as if the mountainside is concave rather than convex. Her heart is in her mouth, and she is clutching her poles as tightly as she can. If she falls, things could go really badly. She might break something, and what would happen then?
As William said, the ski patrol probably wouldn’t find her.
In addition, a new and terrifying thought has crept into her mind.
What if they trigger an avalanche? If the snow comes away from the underlying rock, they are lost. If a cohesive mass comes away and hurtles down the mountain, it would be impossible to escape.
Such a mass of snow accelerates much too fast for anyone to be able to ski ahead of it.
Avalanches can reach a speed of almost seventy miles per hour, especially in terrain as steep as this.
And none of them have avalanche equipment or a radio transmitter.
Olivia tries to focus on William, who is a few yards ahead of her now. The distance is increasing all the time, even though she is skiing well beyond her ability.
If I fall, I will die.
The thought comes out of nowhere, but she doesn’t want to give in to her fear. Instead she grits her teeth, forces herself to increase her speed so that she doesn’t lose sight of William.
As usual he appears to be skiing effortlessly, moving forward quickly and efficiently—even elegantly.
While Olivia has to fight for every yard.
Her only consolation is that Amir and Pontus are far behind her. She hopes they are finding it even more difficult than she is, that they are having to make twice as much effort to get down at all.
The fuckers deserve to suffer.
The fog swirling around them muffles every sound. The world is nothing but whiteness, with every contour obliterated.
If she didn’t have William ahead of her, she wouldn’t be able to find her way. She would really like to call out to him, ask him to stop so they can rest, or preferably turn back, but she knows it’s too late. They have already gone too far; it is impossible to turn back.
With this much snow they would never be able to climb back up to the transportation routes and safety.
Right now there is only one way out. And that goes through the sharp black rocks down in the West Ravine.
That is the only way to get home.