Sharp snow pellets.
Wind that cuts straight through clothing.
The mountains are disappearing under thick gray clouds rolling over the ridgeline.
Russ looks up.
“Well this seems safe.”
Adam shoulders his pack.
“We don’t have the luxury of safe.”
Boone grips my hand, pulling me down the porch steps before the wind can shove me sideways.
“Stay close.”
“I am.”
The snow crunches under our boots as we move toward the trucks.
The forest around the cabin groans under the storm.
Branches bending.
Pines swaying.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbles across the mountains.
That’s new.
Great.
Russ throws gear into the back of the truck.
“How far to this landing strip?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Boone says.
“If the road isn’t iced over.”
Russ groans.
“Oh, fantastic.”
Boone opens the passenger door and looks at me.
“You ride with me.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“That wasn’t really a question.”
“No.”
I climb in anyway.
The truck roars to life, and Boone immediately pulls onto the narrow mountain road.
