We’re not even to the embankment I want to perform the test on when I feel the snow shift beneath my feet.
“Did y-you f-feel that?”
The sound of our boots on the snow is different, too. Instead of crunchy with a squeak at the end of each step, like solid snow, it’s a heart-stoppingwhoomphof the unstable snowpack fracturing beneath us.
Mine and Stone’s gazes snap to each other.
“That’s good enough for me. We’ve gotta get out of here.” I nod in understanding, but unfortunately, the spike in my anxiety has made my already stiff, uncooperative body even more so. Stone looks back, realizing I’m struggling, and he squats in front of me. “Get on.”
“St-Stone, I c-can’t. That’s t-too m-much w-weight in one p-place.” My stuttering is getting worse as the coldness seeps into my bones.
“The mountain’s counting down, Han. If we don’t set it off from walking, the snowmobile might, but we don’t stand a chance of outrunning this at all if we don’t get on the machine.”
I do my best to climb onto his back, but my joints aren’t bending like I need them to, and he has to support me by reaching behind him and gripping my thighs.
After placing me on the snowmobile, he takes his seat in front of me and wraps my arms around his waist. By this point, my whole body is shaking. It feels like I’m having a seizure.
“Hold on, baby. I’m going to get us out of here,” Stone says, bringing the vehicle to life. We both hold our breath as the machine rumbles on the fragile snow.
Stonedrives slowly in an attempt not to disturb the weakened layers we’re gliding on. When the terrain is decently friendly, he drives with one hand on the handlebars and his other on my knee or clasping my arm where it rests in his lap.
It’s not often that I put myself in a position where my diagnosis wins, but my body is no match for the cold, the wind, the altitude, and the adrenaline dump.
The mountain must have determined that today wasn’t our time to die, though, because we make it back to the office in one piece without setting off any avalanches, but now, we both know what’s looming over this resort.
Stone pulls next to his Tahoe and helps me inside. He starts the SUV, turns on my seat warmer, and cranks the heat before going back to tuck the snowmobile in the garage behind the office and finish up inside by changing the blasting schedule, making the western ridge tomorrow’s priority.
My muscles ache already. Shivering this violently and staying tense this long will make me sorer than any workout ever could.
I try to relax. Try to stop fighting the spasms rocking my body.
But it’s no use, and I feel my limbs begin to contract.
Stone is going to be so pissed.
Chapter 29
Stone
Because it’s after hours, it takes me longer than I would have liked to call in the findings and change the blasting schedule. My team has tomorrow off, so unfortunately, it requires me to send a text to Logan with the updated instructions.
I’m not surprised when I get no response, but I have faith he’ll follow the new directive.
When I get back out to the Tahoe, Hanlon is damn near curled into a ball, his fists drawn into his chest as his body is wracked with shivers.
“Fuck.Han. You okay?” There’s no masking the worry in my voice this time.
“Mmm,” is all he manages to say.
Goddammit. IknewI shouldn’t have let him talk me into going back up there, even if he was right and we need to trigger that avalanche before Mother Nature does it herself.
The landscape of the ski resort is different from the backcountry because of the action it sees. The use of electricity, heat from the skiers, snowmobiles, etc., make our ground temperaturerise and cool much faster than the wilderness, increasing the risk of avalanches.
When I checked the digital thermometers and snowfall maps of the section of backcountry we monitor, everything was stable, which is good news.
I run my hand over Hanlon’s thigh in a comforting gesture, but all I notice is the lump of muscle coiled beneath his pant leg.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
