What began as a single ominous crack turned into a horrible crashing noise as the rift in the snow and ice up there ran along a whole shelf, separating it from the main body of the mountain. For a single second, I thought it looked cool – so cool I patted my pockets for my cell phone, thinking I should film it.
Then I saw how big the shelf of snow was that was coming down, and how close we were to the mountain, and I swore.
“What do we do?” Cade asked. He was stiff and pale beside me. I glanced his way. The avalanche was so far off and yet moving towards us so fast – but it was so strange because the disaster was ahead of us and not yet on us.
And I couldn’t think of a single thing to do.
I tore my eyes away from the beautiful yet terrifying clouds of snow as they poured and raced over the ridges of the mountain, almost seeming to bounce up and over every blockage like a flood of water, waves dancing high into the air. We were right at the bottom of the slope here, with what had to be Xavi and Ace opposite us. Davies and his girlfriend were in the next cabin up opposite Caleb and Aubrey, then Jason and his girl were up at the top opposite Harvey and Keaton. I couldn’t see anyone outside of the chalets, walking around.
Maybe everyone else was inside. That was good, at least. That was some small amount of safety.
What I was worried about was the snow blasting in through the windows and filling the room.
I cast around the inside of our chalet. We couldn’t go anywhere outside – it would take too long to get to the cars, and besides, they were closer to the avalanche than we were. By the time we got inside and started the engine, the snow would be on us.
Inside, then.
But where?
There were beds, but I couldn’t see it was possible to fit under the small space between the mattress and the floor. The only table in the room was small, maybe big enough to shelter one person but not very effectively even then. There was nothing that could provide shelter or a brace against the snow.
Maybe the bathroom – but then you could end up trapped inside a tiny space –
I had to make a decision.
Stop thinking, start doing.
I rushed to my bed and flipped it, leaving the mattress facing the windows and letting it rest on its side, legs poking out sideways. It was barely anything. It might not provide any kind of protection, but it was all I could do in that short time, and -
“Oh, god,” Cade said, his face pale and eyes wide, as he stumbled back a couple of steps. I looked back at the window. The snow was bouncing high above us, over the last ridge, booming high over the cars. Behind it I could only just see a small fraction of the top of the peak – and the snow was still falling from the top.
The snow fell over the cars and they were gone, and so was the first row of cabins, and it barely made any impact in the amount of snow rushing towards us and filling the sky.
There was no time to run and hide. Nowhere to go even if we had time.
The snow was going to come down from that ridge and it would be on us in an instant.
Instinct took over and I grabbed Cade, threw him to the floor as I dove behind the bed – and curled my larger body over his smaller one, intending to take the brunt of any force that pelted us.
There was a long moment – a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. I was hyper-aware of everything. Cade’s body warm against mine. The hairs on the back of his head tickling against my chin. The metal of the bed’s base pressing against my back.
The rumble and roar of the snow as it rushed towards and over us, the sharp and heavy patter of it against the glass –
And the weight of sudden silence, so complete and strong that it was like wearing noise-canceling headphones, the kind of silence that could never be natural.
Silence – and darkness, plunging us into complete and total sensory deprivation until the only thing I could understand was that Cade and I were still together, still breathing, still warm.
“Are we dead?” Cade asked, his voice cracking a little.
Cade
What I did not want to hear in response to that question was a chuckle.
“What?” I asked, and Aiden only chuckled louder.
“Sorry,” he said, gasping for breath. “Sorry – sorry. I don’t know why I’m laughing. I’m just – we’re alive. We’re alive.”
I thought about it, and I started laughing, too.
