Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Her cheerfulness is bound to kill me.
She’s always smiling as if life is nothing but unicorn farts and butterflies shitting all over the fucking flowers. It irritates the living fuck out of me.
I hold a hand out to Lake, and once he grabs hold of it, I pull him up.
“Thanks,” he breathes, reaching up to his face to adjust his goggles. “All this snow is making me hungry. Are we going to head back down?”
“Don’t use the snow for an excuse to eat.” I grin at him. “Yeah, let’s go feed that bottomless fucking pit you call a stomach.”
Anything to get off this damn slope and away from Kingsley.
Lake turns to Kingsley, but I grab hold of his arm, and when he glances back to me, I shake my head. “Don’t. I need a break from her.”
Lake shrugs, and after helping Kingsley up, he begins to slowly ski down the slope. Just as I’m about to push away, Kingsley asks, “Where’s Lake going?”
I almost answer her but decide it’s not worth my time.
“Avalanche!” a skier yells from higher up, which makes me glance up the slope.
As I turn my head back in Lake’s direction, my eyes skim over Kingsley. Spotting Lake, I shout, “Lake, Avalanche! Warn Falcon!”
A wave of snow washes my feet from under me, knocking me backward. I hear Kingsley scream, and instinctively I fling my left arm in her direction. I manage to grab hold of her jacket and try to yank her toward me. Chunks of ice keep coming, pushing us forward before I can get Kingsley to me. The glove makes it hard to hold on to her.
“Fuck!” I shout when I feel her jacket slip from my hold. I’m inundated with snow and let it take me, knowing there’s no fighting it. It pushes me another hundred yards before I finally come to a stop.
Struggling, all I can hear are my breaths before I finally manage to sit up. “Lake! Falcon!”
My eyes sweep over the mess of disoriented skiers, all calling out names of loved ones they got separated from.
When I don’t see either of my friends, I begin to shout their names repeatedly. It takes a lot of effort to get myself back on my feet. With the snow broken up, it’s harder to move, but I manage to make progress as I keep calling, “Falcon! Lake!”
“Mason,” Falcon shouts from behind me. I glance up and feel some relief when I see him helping Layla to her feet.
Cupping my hands around my mouth, I call to him, “Can you see Lake?”
“No!”
“Fuck,” I mutter, and looking over all the people, I make sure I didn’t miss him before I set my poles aside. I take off my skies and place them next to the poles, then shrug off my backpack.
Worry crawls over my body as I call loudly, “Lake!”
I focus on an area and shout his name again. I keep doing this while moving across the fractured snow. “Fucking answer me!” Panic closes over my heart, and I feel the familiar horrible sting of hopelessness.
Suddenly a pole shoots up through a bank of snow, and I call out his name again to make sure it’s him. The pole moves, and I quickly turn to where I last saw Falcon. “Lake’s over here! He’s buried!”
Knowing minutes have already passed, I try to run, but the fucking snow keeps giving way beneath my feet, and I fall to my knees. Not wanting to waste any more time, I crawl the rest of the way, and when I reach the pole, I begin to dig as fast as I can. After I’ve cleared quite a bit away, and I still haven’t reached him, I shout, “I’ve got you, Lake.”
“Hold on, buddy.”
“Please.”
Falcon drops down next to me and begins to shovel snow away. We work as fast as we can, and when my hand slams into something hard, I feel a wave of dizzying elation. I clear the snow away from his helmet and at last get to his face.
“Can you breathe?” Falcon asks him, pausing for a moment to check on Lake.
I can’t bring myself to stop and keep shoveling snow away until his entire upper body is free. Falcon grabs Lake under his arms and pulls him free, and all I can do is sit back while gasping for air.
“Oh, God,” Layla whimpers behind me. I don’t even have the strength to glance up at her. “Lake, are you okay?” The worry in her voice grates at my nerves which feel like they’ve been put through a grinder.
“Are you hurt?” Falcon asks, keeping his hand on Lake’s shoulder.
“I’m good.” Lake takes deep breaths, pressing a hand to his chest. “Just need air.”
The relief I feel when I meet his eyes is only short-lived and is quickly replaced by paralyzing fear. In absolute terror, I turn my head to where I last had a hold of Kingsley.