TWISTED ICE (ONC 2023)

CHAPTER 1

I can only gawk at the surrounding scene, visible through the windows of the bright red Ford Bronco. With my hands on the steering wheel, I stare up with a twinge in my stomach that teeters somewhere between awe and fear. Kinda like that coin flipping in the air. Which side will it land on?

The mountain towers above us, its highest elevations hidden by a blanket of clouds. Halfway up the rocky flank, vaporous tendrils envelop it, alive and adrift, moving faster than Chloe's SUV. From this thick haze, the wind blows the snow sideways and straight at us. Every second that passes, the path ahead becomes less visible and more treacherous as the vehicle treads over the snow that's sticking to the road.

I can't believe I'm in this situation. This is not how I envisioned this trip going, but plans change, especially with the weather. It happens. It's life.

We skim around a hairpin curve, wipers having little effect on the giant flakes colliding with the windshield. On these icy switchbacks, the SUV's all-terrain tires keep us on the road for now, but I can't get over the fact we didn't use the snow chains earlier. When we stopped for gas, all anyone could think about was getting to the cabin, breaking out the beer and weed, and hitting the hot tub. Typical college students on fall break in Aspen, Colorado. Blinded by life and youthful energy, lacking forethought and judgment.

I use sound discretion often, but when Jasmine invited me to go with them, I couldn't pass up the chance to broaden my horizons. Also, when certain opportunities arise during the trip, in those moments when no one is looking, I thought I could polish some skills I deem crucial for my new writing project.

With the weather, it might be a stretch, but I seem to find a way where there is no way.

Of course, it'll be a challenge considering the people in the car. Take Chloe, for instance. The young woman sits next to me in the passenger seat, clutching the grab handle above her head with a death grip. She holds her blonde braid in her other hand, knuckles white with tension. She cuts her eyes to me. Opens her mouth to speak but looks away.

My heart pounds in my ears as I gnaw the inside of my cheek. A wrong move could send us plummeting down the steep ravine and into the spruce and cedar below. There's something about the adrenaline rush that emboldens me, makes me feel alive. Like I thrive on it, but I don't know why.

I coil my fingers around the wheel to hide the tremble in my hands. Is this raw fear or the feeling of adventure? I don't know, but driving in this weather makes me want to push new boundaries. Test the waters. See what else I can accomplish. For a wannabe novelist, life can be boring if you experience nothing. That's why I came to Aspen—to try something that required action. To add something tangible to my repertoire.

Still, this weather could kill us before we get the chance to flip the coin.

"I should be driving," Chloe says. "It's my car." Her braid sprouts from underneath a wool cap that she can't keep pulled down over her ears. "This blizzard came out of nowhere. It's my bad, but there's nowhere to pull over right now."

"I saw the storm on the Weather Channel app," Jasmine says from the backseat. "But it wasn't supposed to come this far north." She's squeezed between Isaiah and Hunter, acting like she's uncomfortable, but I think she enjoys having the guys close to her. In the rearview mirror, her brows pinch together and her cheeks grow taut, revealing their proximity isn't her concern at the moment. But what about before the storm showed up? I wonder...

"Buckle up." Isaiah clicks his seatbelt. "This joyride's about to get real."

"I buckled up miles ago. So did everyone else." I glimpse the star wide receiver as he searches for someway to brace himself. One hand grips Jasmine's knee and the other plants firmly on the back of Chloe's headrest.