Chapter Five
Connor shoved to his feet and took the frightened young man by the arm. “What run is he on?” he asked.
“T-Tessa’s Trees,” the boy stammered. Connor could see now that he was maybe sixteen or seventeen, the barest hint of a mustache over his thin lips, acne dotting his chin.
“Where on Tessa’s Trees?”
“Maybe…halfway down? On the right side. I just saw the bottom of his board. It’s, like, sky blue. I tried to pull him out, but he’s stuck fast. I yelled at him to hang on, but he wasn’t moving or anything. I just flew down the mountain to get here. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing.” Connor put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, steadying him. “Is this a friend of yours? Do you know his name?”
The boy shook his head. “I just saw the board and went over to check it out.”
“Was anyone with him?” Or her, Connor thought. It could be a woman under there.
The boy shook his head. “Nobody.”
“All right. Can you ride up with us and show us where this person is?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
Connor was already putting on his jacket.
He grabbed his radio and keyed it as he headed for the lift, with the boy, Stacy and Farley in his wake.
He could have ordered Stacy to stay behind, but he didn’t want to waste time or his breath.
“We’ve got a boarder in a tree well on Tessa’s Trees,” he radioed to his team.
“Anyone in the vicinity, meet me over there.”
Farley sat on the lift between Stacy and Connor. The boarder, whose name was Charlie, sat on Connor’s other side. The kid was fidgeting so badly Connor lowered the safety bar.
“What happens now?” Stacy asked, her voice low, one hand on the dog’s back.
“We have to get whoever is trapped out of there.” Connor angled toward her.
“Snow can collect around the base of trees, but it doesn’t pack like on the runs.
If someone skis or boards over it, the snow gives way beneath them.
The well underneath can be deep enough to swallow up a person.
The snow can collect around them, trapping them. ”
“But how did he end up upside down?” she asked.
“If he hit the edge of the well, the snow could give way and pitch him forward.” A person could smother within minutes as the snow closed around them.
At the top of the lift, the four of them exited, Farley bounding ahead. Charlie took off, leading the way down Desi’s Trees. Connor scanned either side of the run, searching for any sign of a blue snowboard in the trees.
A little more than halfway down the run, Charlie veered to the right. Connor spotted what appeared to be a discarded snowboard, upside down in the snow. He was almost on it before he recognized someone was still attached to the board.
Farley barked and began digging furiously around the trapped boarder’s feet.
Connor unstrapped a folding shovel from his pack and began digging.
Brian Weeks arrived seconds later and began shoveling too.
Within a couple of minutes, the two men and the dog had cleared the boarder almost to the waist, but the person hadn’t moved or made a single sound.
“Let’s try to pull him out,” Brian said.
“I’ll help.” Chase Sergeant stepped up, along with Stacy.
Connor unfastened the bindings of the board and freed the rider’s feet, then tossed the board aside.
He wrapped his hands around the man’s thighs—he was pretty sure it was a man.
“On three, pull,” he said. They were taking a risk.
If the man had a neck injury, they could be making things worse, but the more time that passed without him moving or speaking, the more likely it was he was already dead.
If they could get him out and get him breathing again, they might be able to save him.
“One, two, three!” Everyone pulled.
“We moved him a little,” Stacy said.
“Pull again,” Connor ordered. “One, two, three.”
The body popped free like a cork. They carefully laid the young man on the ground and cleared snow from his face. Connor felt for a pulse and thought he detected a faint one. He cleared the airway and began rescue breathing.
The body convulsed and heaved, then the young man coughed. They quickly rolled him onto his side as he retched. After a few moments, he struggled to rise. “Stay still,” Connor urged. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I need to sit up,” the man said, then shoved into a sitting position. Connor and Brian supported him, and Stacy removed his helmet, revealing straight, dirty blond hair. He coughed and trembled but gradually he settled. Then he stared at them with bloodshot hazel eyes. “What happened?” he croaked.
Chase put a blanket around the man. “You fell into a tree well,” he said.
“I saw your board and fetched ski patrol,” Charlie said.
The man blinked at his rescuer. “Thanks.” He ran a hand through his straw-colored hair.
“I remember now. I was going a little fast and got near the trees. I tried to turn, and the next thing I knew, I was upside down in the snow.” He swallowed hard.
“I thought I was going to die.” His voice broke, and he bowed his head.
Connor gripped his shoulder. “You’re not going to die. What’s your name?”
“Jace. Uh, Jason. Jason Dennison.” Connor thought Jace was close to thirty, about five-nine, with a stocky build. No wonder they’d had such a hard time pulling him out.
“Is there somebody you want us to call?” Brian asked.
Jace frowned. “My boss? What time is it? I’m supposed to start a shift at three. I work at the Bagel Bistro.”
“It’s only 1:30, but you might want to take the rest of the day off,” Connor said.
“I’ll be okay.” His eyes met Connor’s. “Can I have some water?”
Connor gave him water and checked his pulse again. It was stronger now, and the color had come back into his face. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Does anything hurt?”
Jace shook his head. “I feel okay, really.” He grimaced. “A headache, but that’s probably from being upside down. How long do you think I was in there?”
“Fifteen minutes, at least,” Charlie said. “It must have just happened when I found you, or we probably wouldn’t be talking.”
Jace nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to stand up now.”
The others helped him to his feet. “You doing okay?” Connor asked.
“A little shaky.”
“Let’s give you a ride down,” Connor said. He signaled to Brian, who had arrived on a snowmobile. Chase retrieved the rescue sled that was strapped to the trunk of a nearby tree, kept handy for just such a purpose, and they helped Jace arrange himself in it and tucked blankets around him.
“I could probably board down,” Jace said but without much conviction.
“Take the free ride,” Charlie said. “I’ll bring your board.” He picked up the blue snowboard.
“Thanks,” Jace said and closed his eyes.
They formed a procession down the mountain—Chase on the snowmobile, pulling the sled, Connor skiing behind, Farley loping alongside him. Charlie and Chase were together, the snowboard cradled to Charlie’s chest. Stacy was last, making deliberate turns, seemingly in no hurry.
By the time Stacy rejoined them in front of ski patrol headquarters, Jace and Charlie were leaving together. Stacy watched them walk away.
“He should go to a doctor and get checked out,” she said.
“I tried to persuade him to go to the clinic, but he refused,” Connor said. He shrugged. “He’ll probably be all right.”
“He probably doesn’t have any insurance,” Brian said. “Except for those bloodshot eyes, by tomorrow he won’t even be able to tell anything happened.” He nodded to Stacy. “Thanks for your help today.”
“You’re welcome.”
Brian glanced at Connor, then nodded again to Stacy. “I’ll get back to work.”
She followed Connor back into the ski patrol building. Farley resumed his spot in the chair. “Your soup is cold,” Connor said as he settled behind the desk. “There’s a microwave if you want to reheat it.”
She carried the soup to the microwave, though her appetite had deserted her. “Are you really as calm as you seem right now?” she asked.
He looked up from his sandwich. “What do you mean?”
“That guy almost died. You saved his life.”
“What did you think we do?”
“I thought it was all about clearing snow and getting people with twisted knees to the medical clinic.”
“Some days it’s about that. Other days it’s tending to a heart attack victim or a lost child or someone who died after hitting a tree.”
“Have you dealt with many dead people?”
“Even one is too many.”
The microwave beeped, and she pulled out the steaming cup of soup and carried it to the desk. “That guy, Jace. He looked really familiar to me.”
“Oh?”
“I think he was at that meeting last night. He was one of the protestors. One of the hard-core group, even.”
“Do you think there’s a connection between the meeting and what happened to him today?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how there could be. I just thought it was odd, to run into him again today.”
Someone knocked on the door. They both turned as an older man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair entered. “Anybody home?” he asked.
Stacy shoved to her feet. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
The newcomer grinned—a charming, big smile full of white teeth. “Hello, Stacy,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”
Connor had risen also. “Stacy?”
Stacy’s cheeks were flushed, and she didn’t look pleased. She remained focused on the older man and didn’t answer Connor.
The man stepped up to the desk and thrust out his hand. “George Macrae,” he said. “I’m Stacy’s dad.”