Don’t let the blizzard loose. That’s all they’d need.
Please. Not until everyone is safe.
His prayer wasn’t answered as fresh piles of snow broke from the clouds, mixed with pelting ice.
“Joel! Joel!” Izzy’s called, her voice high-pitched, frantic.
Thank you,Lord.His sister was alive. There was one relief. He ached for more.
“Here!” he called, blinking his snow-caked lashes. His sunglasses must have torn off in the avalanche’s wake.
He spotted Iz and Talbot in his peripheral vision.
They climbed up through the thigh-high snow, plowing for him.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Iz said, reaching him and resting a hand on the tip-top of his shoulder—barely an inch above the packed snow line. Talbot approached seconds later.
“You okay, man?” he asked.
“I could use a shovel out.” And fast.
“Of course, dude.” Talbot pulled his avalanche shovel from his pack, unfolded the handle, and locked it in place. Iz did the same.
Soon he was free, but his arms and hands were numb. He shook them out, and they flopped about, unfeeling.
“How is everybody? How is Cassie?”Please say she made it outof the furious path of destruction.
Iz bit her bottom lip.
He narrowed his eyes. “What?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.
She sniffed. “Everyone is fine, thankfully, except—”
“Cassie,”he breathed.
Iz nodded, tears welling in her eyes.
“We’ll find her,” Talbot said, his voice calm and firm with conviction.
Would he be so level if it were Iz in Cassie’s place? But calm was good in at least one of them. Talbot would think clearly, and that’s what they needed. But Joel was far from that level. Panic rushed hot adrenaline through his frozen hands, bringing them back to life with excruciating pain as blood once again began to flow.
Not wasting a second, he broke into a run for the weathered-looking group gathered in a circle. “Did any of you see Cassie go under the avalanche?” Negative answers sounded. He turned back toward the slope, scanning the snow and debris-strewn earth, anxiety pricking at his soul as he shouted her name again, waiting, pleading with God for her to answer.
“But she was about a hundred yards from me when it hit,” Devon said.
“Me too,” Mia said. “Maybe less.”
It was something. “And where were you two in relation to her? It might help pin her location.”
“Almost a hundred yards downhill,” Devon said.
“I was a bit lower,” Mia said. “I turned and saw Cassie flying off the outcropping, and then it started.”
“Okay,” Joel said, moving before he finished his question. “So about seventy yards up the slope from here?” He’d only been fiftyyards away from her, but the tree he’d clung to blocked his view of everything but brown bark and a wall of snow.
“Yep,” Devon said, and Mia confirmed the distance.
Joel broke into a flat-out run uphill, tumbling forward with his flailing momentum. He landed on his knees, cold creeping into his bones. Righting himself, he continued the climb—his legs still struggling to wake up—to work right. Could anything be more infuriating? Time was of the essence and his body was taking its sweet time coming back to life.
