“Here,” Charlie tried to say, but her voice wouldn't work. “Ben...”
Then he was there, his face filling her vision. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“I've got you, Princess. I've got you.”
“Get Viv first,” she whispered. Charlie gasped, coughed, tried to breathe. Her lungs wouldn't work right. Everything hurt, but dully and far away. “Viv,” she managed. “Viv?—”
“We've got Viv, Charlie.” Bear's voice. “She’s alive.”
Charlie actually relaxed. Viv was safe.
Then Ben’s strong arms were lifting her so carefully. The weight of the snow was gone. Cold, fresh air filled her lungs.
Ben was carrying her across the snow, then wrapping her in something warm. His coat. She could smell him—metal and cedar smoke and Ben.
“Stay with me,” Ben said. His voice was shaking. “Charlie, stay with me?—”
“Always,” Charlie whispered.
Then the world went dark.
TWENTY-FOUR
Charlie was tryingto save people from an avalanche. Digging with her bare, frozen hands. Calling their names. But the snow kept falling, burying them deeper, and her hands wouldn't work right, and she couldn't breathe. At the same time somehow, people were trying to dig her out of the snow.
Charlie's throat was dry and her voice came out rough. “Tell Kyle. Next time, beacons on all the principals.”
“Well, I would, but I don't work for him.”
Ben's voice cut through the dream like a lifeline.
“Ben?”
“Wake up, Charlie.”
I’m dreaming.
I’m not buried. I’m not dead. I’m safe.
Charlie's eyes flew open.
Fluorescent lights. White ceiling. The antiseptic smell of a hospital, though surprisingly, it was almost drowned out by the smell of flowers.
Ben saved me.
Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Everything hurt from a distance, thanks to pain meds—her shoulder, herribs, her leg, her hands—but she was breathing. Real air. Fresh air.
“Easy, Princess. You're okay. You're safe.”
Ben was there, his hand warm around hers. His face was drawn, exhausted, but his eyes were full of relief.
Charlie blinked against the too-bright lights.
Ouch. But I'll take it. Along with all that sweet, fresh air.
She squeezed his hand. “You found me,” she croaked.
“Always.” His voice cracked. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “God, Charlie. I thought?—”
