Chapter 6
6
T he roar started as a faint hum, low and deep like the earth clearing its throat. Reva froze mid-sentence, her hand gripping the edge of the truck bed. “What’s that?” she whispered, though the looks on faces told her everyone else already knew.
“It’s an avalanche,” Charlie Grace said, her voice breaking. She shaded her eyes, squinting toward the distant slope where Capri had disappeared.
The girlfriends stood in a stunned line, the color draining from their faces as the mountain shifted before their eyes. A massive wall of snow tumbled down with terrifying force, swallowing the jagged rocks and sparse trees in its path.
“Oh my God,” Lila gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “They’re right up there!”
Bodhi, standing near Capri’s truck, frantically adjusted the knob on the helmet radio now strapped to his hip. His tan face paled as he pressed the button again and again. “Capri, do you copy? CAPRI! Come on, answer me!”
Static crackled back at him, cold and unforgiving.
“She has the blasted helmet on,” Bodhi said, his voice rising with desperation. “Surely she can hear me!” He smacked the side of the radio, as though brute force could will Capri’s voice to respond.
Nothing.
“We have to do something!” Charlie Grace snapped, gripping Reva’s arm.
“What are we supposed to do?” Reva’s calm veneer was cracking, her voice shaking as she scanned the horizon. “We’re down here. They’re—” She gestured helplessly toward the mountain, her throat tightening.
The sound of approaching footsteps cut through the panic. A small group of onlookers from the parking lot began to gather, murmuring in hushed tones as the spectacle unfolded. Nicola Cavendish, ever the town gossip, clutched her yappy Yorkie to her chest. “An avalanche?” she gasped, looking from the girlfriends to Bodhi. “Oh, Lord, are they trapped up there?”
Reva spun on her heel. “Nicola, that’s a given. Either help or go home.”
Nicola, affronted but obedient, stepped back with an indignant huff.
Lila grabbed Bodhi by the shoulders. “Try again. Try her again. Keep trying.”
“I’m trying!” Bodhi shouted, his voice raw with frustration. “I don’t even know if she—” He cut himself off, unwilling to say the words out loud. His hands trembled as he pressed the button again. “Capri, it’s Bodhi. Please, tell me you’re okay. Just… tell me something.”
The static hissed and popped, cruel in its silence.
The girlfriends stood huddled together, eyes fixed on the mountain as the snow finally began to settle, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake. The once-pristine slope was now a jagged scar, the path of destruction painfully clear.
“They could’ve been anywhere,” Lila said, trying to sound hopeful but failing miserably.
“Maybe they made it out of the way,” Charlie Grace added, though tears rimmed her eyes.
“Yeah,” Reva murmured, though her gaze didn’t waver from the mountain. “Maybe.”
Bodhi dropped the radio to his side, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m going up there,” he said, turning toward the transport vehicle.
“Bodhi, no,” Lila said, grabbing his arm. “You don’t even know where they are. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“I can’t just stand here!” he shouted, pulling away. “I should’ve stopped her—I knew this would happen!”
Reva stepped forward, her voice frantic but firm. “Bodhi, listen to me. You’re not going to help Capri by getting yourself caught in the aftermath. We need to wait for the rescue team.”
As if on cue, the wail of a distant siren pierced the air. The girlfriends turned toward the sound, hope flickering in their eyes as a snow rescue vehicle crested the hill into the parking lot.
“Thank God,” Charlie Grace breathed.
Bodhi didn’t move, his hands curling into fists. “I should’ve done more,” he whispered. “I should’ve?—”
“You couldn’t have stopped her,” Lila said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Capri does what she’s going to do. You know that as well as we do.”
The siren grew louder as the vehicle pulled in, its doors swinging open. A team of rescuers jumped out, gearing up for the climb. The girlfriends and Bodhi watched as the rescuers moved with efficiency, their calm demeanor a stark contrast to the panic rippling through the small group.
“We’ll find her,” one of them said, meeting Bodhi’s frantic gaze. “We’ll find all of them.”
The words hung in the air, a fragile thread of hope as they turned back to the mountain.
The rumble of an engine cut through the voices shouting and equipment clattering as rescuers prepared for action. A cloud of dust and snow swirled in the air as Jake Carrington’s pickup tore into the lot, skidding to a stop just feet from where the group had gathered. The door flew open, and Jake climbed out, his usual composed demeanor replaced with a frantic energy none of them had ever seen before. His rugged frame moved with purpose as he scanned the group and shoved gloves and a radio in his pocket. His gaze landed squarely on Bodhi.
“Is it true?” Jake’s voice was rough, barely controlled. His eyes flicked to the distant mountain, then back to the others. “Is she up there?”
The silence that followed was answer enough.
Reva gave a small nod, her face pale and drawn.
Jake’s jaw tightened, his breath coming out in quick, sharp bursts. He turned back to the mountain, his expression dark with determination.
Without another word, Jake strode toward a snowmobile parked near the edge of the lot. It belonged to the rescue team, but no one dared stop him. He swung a leg over the seat, his movements quick and decisive.
“Jake, wait!” Reva called out, stepping forward. “The rescue team is already?—”
“They’re too slow,” he shot back, his voice hard, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped the handlebars, his knuckles white. “I’m not waiting for them.”
Before anyone could respond, Jake turned the key. The engine roared to life, the sound cutting through the frigid air. He twisted the throttle, and the snowmobile surged forward, spraying loose powder behind him. The girlfriends stood frozen, watching as he raced toward the treacherous slope, his figure growing smaller and smaller against the vast expanse of white.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Lila whispered, her voice trembling.
Reva placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes locked on Jake’s retreating form. “He’s not going to stop,” she said quietly. “Not until he finds her.”
The group stood in stunned silence; their breaths visible in the icy air as they watched him disappear into the snow-dusted wilderness.
Hope mingled with dread in her heart as Reva silently prayed he would find Capri—and make it back himself.
Capri woke with a start, the icy bite of snow against her face snapping her into reality. For a moment, she couldn’t move as her mind struggled to catch up to her body.
She grunted as she tried to shift. “What the—” She let her whisper fade as awareness—and fear—gripped her.
The…the avalanche.
She wasn’t buried, but her limbs were weighed down by layers of snow, her arms partially pinned. Cold seeped through her clothes, sharp and unforgiving. She tried to shift and felt a jagged rock pressing into her back. The sharp discomfort jolted her, and then—white-hot pain shot through her legs.
She gasped, her breath puffing out in visible clouds. “No, no, no,” she whispered, clenching her teeth as the pain spiraled out, radiating from her thighs. Her fingers moved shakily to brush away the snow around her legs. Her right foot was bent at an unnatural angle, her left pinned awkwardly against another rock.
A broken leg. Maybe two.
Panic crept in as her situation became horrifyingly clear. She was alone on a mountainside, swept off her snowmobile by the avalanche, and unable to move. Her breaths came faster, shallower, her chest tightening with every second. She tilted her head to look around, but all she could see was a vast sea of white and scattered debris—the remnants of her own reckless decision.
Even her helmet was missing, ripped off by the snow’s force.
“Stupid,” she muttered, her voice trembling as tears pricked at her eyes. “Why can’t I just listen? Why do I always have to prove something?”
The memory of Bodhi’s warning cut through her self-pity. He had told her to take the safer route. He’d practically begged her. But no, she had to charge ahead, had to prove she could master the most dangerous stretch. And now she was paying for it.
The ache in her legs grew more unbearable by the second, and with it, the icy grip of fear wrapped tighter around her. She might not be found right away. Depending on how far the snow slide had taken her down the mountain…maybe never.
She could have a compound fracture. She could be bleeding internally.
She might not survive.
The thought sent her spiraling, her mind racing through worst-case scenarios. She pictured herself succumbing to the cold, her friends, Jake, and her mother receiving the news of her body being recovered days, maybe weeks, later. The idea of them mourning her—of her mom burying another loved one—was almost more than she could bear.
“No,” she said aloud, trying to steady herself. “Stop it. They’ll find you. Someone will come.”
But even as she said it, doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind. She had no idea how far she’d been swept, no clue if the rescuers would even know where to start. The snow covered everything.
The silence was deafening. She thought of the other racers, wondered if they were alive…or dead.
A sob broke free, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, fighting the rising tide of despair. Tears slid down her cheeks, hot against her frozen skin.
She couldn’t fall apart now. Not yet. If she had any chance of surviving, she needed to stay calm, to think. But the reality of her helplessness pressed down harder than the snow around her.
She let her head fall back against the rock, staring up at the sky, an eerily clear expanse above her. Blue and cold and infinite.
“Great,” she muttered bitterly. “Perfect day to die.”
The thought chilled her more than the snow ever could. She didn’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. But as the minutes dragged on and the pain in her legs grew sharper, Capri felt the icy tendrils of doubt tighten their grip. For once, she couldn’t fix this herself. She could only hope someone else would.
The sound of her own ragged breathing was her only company as she lay there, waiting—praying—that help was on its way.