Chapter 5
Five
MAYA TRIED the brake again and got the same result as last time.
Nothing.
Panic threatened to choke her. She turned the key to shut off the engine.
And it didn’t work.
Her heart hammered. Think!
She couldn’t stop this machine that was now a lethal weapon. Oh please, God, don’t let me hit anyone! Help me!
The snowmobile seemed to have a mind of its own and had pulled her off the trail and onto the ski slope.
She struggled to keep it on a straight path away from skiers, and thankfully, there weren’t many.
Relief was fleeting. She still had to figure out what to do and she was running out of time to do it.
She managed to get back on the snowmobile run, away from anyone on the slope, but her speed kept inching upward.
The roar of another engine sounded close, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Gideon gaining on her.
His helmet covered his face, but she pictured his expression of confusion and worry he had to be wearing.
She thought he might have shouted something at her, but she couldn’t make it out over the roar of the machines.
He drew closer. “. . . are you doing?”
“I can’t stop!”
“Turn it off!”
“I tried! Didn’t work!”
Remains of the avalanche came into sight.
Piles of densely packed snow and ice loomed high, and an idea formed.
It was risky, but she was out of time, and it was the only plan she could think of before she hit someone.
She yanked the handlebars, grateful they responded, and aimed for the nearest mountain of snow, praying that the area would create enough drag to slow her down and allow her to jump.
She’d have to scrape along the edge or she risked flipping and that would not end well.
The problem was controlling the machine.
She had no choice. She had to try. It was either that or slam into the lodge at the bottom—where lots of people were gathered.
Please let this work and don’t let me die.
It was all she had time to pray before the snowmobile hit the edge of the mound. The momentum jerked her, and she almost lost her grip on the bars. She struggled to stay on the seat and keep it right at the edge of the mound to continue the drag.
She did it and the machine slowed, dragging and rumbling just before it started to roll to the right—away from the remains of the avalanche. Maya pushed off and leaped to the left, straight into the mound, praying she wouldn’t be buried—or hit a jagged patch of ice.
She sank for a flash of a second, then landed hard on her shoulder, sending waves of pain ricocheting through her arm and back.
Time ticked past while she fought to suck air into her lungs.
Finally, she could breathe and opened her eyes.
She was surrounded by snow. Her panic flared, but light filtered to her from above.
While she was definitely trapped, she could see the way out.
Air reached her. She could breathe. She wouldn’t suffocate.
Those facts allowed her to control the fear.
Maya reached for the hole, but it was too far. If she could stand . . .
She tried to move her legs and couldn’t. Snow and ice held her trapped. Okay, now the panic returned full force.
“Maya!” Gideon’s shout sent sweet relief racing through her. “Tell me you’re all right!”
The terror in his voice echoed her own. “I’m okay,” she whispered. At least she thought she was. She might have sprained her shoulder, but she’d survived. And there was no way he’d heard her soft reassurance. “Dig me out, please?” This time her voice was stronger.
“Already working on it.”
She tried to relax. Gideon was here. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. It would be okay. Oh, please, God, get me out of here. You know I don’t like this one bit. She’d never been a fan of small spaces. She refused to use the word claustrophobia, but if it walked like a duck—
“You’re going to be okay, Maya.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’m getting there. The ice is the biggest problem. The fresh snow you fell in probably kept you from getting hurt too bad.” A pause. “You’re really not hurt, right?”
“My arm is aching, but it’s not broken. Maybe a sprained shoulder.”
“Okay, just keep talking to me. I need to hear your voice.”
She needed to hear his too. “Grab someone to help?”
“There’s no one around at the moment, so until someone comes along, it’s just me because I’m not leaving you.”
“Good plan. I’m okay with that plan.”
“I’m getting there. Thankfully, you made a hole when you fell, and the snow didn’t cave in completely on top of you, but you must have fallen through some ice, because I can’t pull you out through that hole you made. It’s too deep. I’m going to have to dig down beside you and make another opening.”
Getting free was taking way longer than she would have liked, but the comforting sounds of his digging and his running commentary on his progress kept her sane.
Finally, a large chunk of ice fell away from her side, and thankfully, nothing else fell in when that moved. She rolled halfway out of the Maya-sized hole and blinked at the exposure to the light. Then found herself staring into Gideon’s eyes.
“Can I pull you the rest of the way out?” he asked.
“Hold on. I need to take inventory.” With the space Gideon had managed to give her by taking away the “wall,” she could move her legs, then her head slightly to make sure her neck didn’t hurt.
It did. A little. Probably from hitting the ice so hard, but nothing worrisome.
She tested her arms next. The one she landed on protested.
“Okay, hold out your hand,” she said, “and let me grab onto you. My left arm hurts, but nothing too extreme.”
“I’ll let you tell me what you need—if I need to pull or just let you do everything on your own.”
“Just let me for the moment.”
He offered her his hand and she clasped his wrist. Using him as leverage, she wiggled her way out of the opening, and he helped her to stand, keeping a tight grip on her uninjured arm and not touching her aching one.
Her knees wobbled, and she gripped his wrists while she took stock one more time.
“Maya?”
His deep concern touched her. “I’m okay. I think.” She moved her sore shoulder, grateful when the stabbing pain eased into a dull throb. She managed a rotation. Not dislocated. “Bruised,” she said with relief.
He pulled her into a hug. A gentle one, but one that felt secure and very, very safe. All too soon, he set her back away from him and looked her in the eye. “What happened?”
“The snowmobile wouldn’t stop. The kill switch didn’t work and neither did the brakes.”
“What? How’s that possible?”
“I hate to say it, but the only thing I can think of is someone tampered with it.”
“But . . . we were with the machines the whole time? When could someone have—” He stopped. “When we hiked up to the top.”
“Yeah.”
“And after you left, I noticed footprints around the area.”
Maya bit her lip, a cold certainty forming in her gut. “I really think someone is after me, Gideon.”
“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”
They doubled up the rest of the ride down the mountain, with her arms wrapped around his waist. He took her straight to the clinic to be checked out despite her protests. Three teens hung out nearby, ready to earn a few bucks running messages.
“Got a pen and paper?” he asked the nearest one.
“Sure.” The young man handed Gideon an index card and a pen.
Gideon wrote his message and folded it, then handed it along with a five-dollar bill to the guy. “Take this to the nearest cop you can find. It’s self-explanatory, but if he or she has a return message, I’ll be here at the clinic.”
“Got it.” The kid took off and Gideon motioned to the door.
She crossed her arms. Carefully. “I’m a doctor, Gideon,” she said. “Really, I don’t need to go inside. I just want to get a hot cup of coffee and forget this happened.”
“I don’t think the security officers are going to let you do that. And you know as well as I do that doctors make the worst patients. Please, Maya?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes but followed him inside.
A pretty woman with dark skin and tired eyes walked up to them. “Maya, it’s not your turn to take a shift yet.”
“She’s not here to work,” Gideon said. “She jumped off her snowmobile and landed hard. She needs a once-over.”
“Goodness, my friend. What in the world?”
Maya held a hand out to the woman. “This is Dr. Delilah Morgan. Del, this is Gideon. My self-appointed protector.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman said to him. “But let’s circle back to you jumping off a snowmobile. What’s that all about?”
Maya grimaced. “The brakes and kill switch didn’t work, so it was either jump off or crash into the lodge. I chose the one I thought I—and everyone else—had a better chance of walking away from.”
“Hon, come on in here. I know you’re perfectly capable of deciding if you’re all right, but why don’t I take a look just in case there’s something you’re missing. Adrenaline can cover up a multitude of hurts.”
“I know.” Maya sighed. “Fine.” She shot Gideon a look. “I’ll be right back.”
“I sent one of our little messengers to let security know to treat that snowmobile as evidence,” Gideon said, “and they need to have a qualified mechanic go over to see if it was tampered with.”
“That’s a good idea.” She started to follow the other woman.
“And just for good measure,” Gideon said, “I’ll send another teen to tell security to meet us here. We’ll make a report, and I’m going to ask if they can put a guard on your cabin.”
She whipped around to meet his gaze. “A guard?”