TWISTED ICE (ONC 2023)

CHAPTER 6

We march through the snow in search of something, some clue, some proof that Isaiah's death was an accident, or a murder committed by someone who witnessed our plunge off the mountainside, and for some unimaginable reason, had enough psycho in them to track us down and finish us. What the crash didn't do in killing us, this person would complete the job. I suppose that's the line of thinking. As for the accident part, they seem to think Isaiah might have mixed whiskey and weed and got so high he fell on a stick, like Chloe suggested. Then he got up, pulled it out, tossed it aside, and then stumbled off the bluff.

Where he died.

I wonder what Jasmine expects to find? What if she discovered a psychotic killer was on the loose? How would she react? How would anyone handle the idea of a predator hunting them down one by one? I doubt anyone would want to uncover that deadly truth. No, they would want to find something that makes sense, makes them feel at ease. That way, all they have to worry about is mourning Isaiah's passing. That's what I'm thinking as we stomp through the snow.

Of course, we're all edgy after Isaiah's death. Because one of us killed him or because we're all feeling the effects of discovering his body and coming to terms with his loss. One or the other.

By the time we reach the bluff where Isaiah fell and see the spot where he landed, his sprawled out body is nothing more than a vague outline in the snow. Jasmine stands, front and center, peering down, lost in the moment. I take up position on her right, Hunter and Chloe on her left.

"We should spread out." Hunter breaks the silence of the snow falling, individual flakes the only sound, clicking as they land on top of each other. If it weren't for the body down below, the experience would feel awe-inspiring. Instead, it adds to the tension, like the weight of the world grows heavier on our shoulders by the second.

"He's right." I clasp my hands behind my back, taking in the woodsy scent of the surrounding spruce. "We should take sections, being careful not to disturb the area."

"I'll take the spot where Isaiah is," Jasmine says.

"Do you think that's wise?" Hunter replies. "Can you handle it?"

She whips her head around. "I'm stronger than you think."

"I know you are." He touches her shoulder and his lips press together, offering understanding and comfort.

Jasmine nods in acknowledgment. As she looks down, her side profile visible to me, I notice her cheeks relaxing, as if appreciating his warm gesture. Chloe remains quiet, possibly wanting to avoid another argument.

"Jasmine takes the area around Isaiah," I say. "I take the right side of the bluff, leading back to the cave. Chloe takes the left. Hunter, you can cover the area down below, the outer perimeter where he lies. Does that sound good?"

Chloe nods, her face twisted, eyes wide and alive with something besides anger. She appears like a live wire, silent but on the verge of exploding.

Jasmine turns to Hunter. I can't see her face, but I can see his. There's a message passing between them, the air filling with sorrow or pity. I can't tell which.

"Let's do this," he says and then we disperse.

As I shift to the right, I draw the hood of my parka tighter and tie it off. Pull the gloves from my pockets and slide my fingers into place. Feel the warmth. However, my cheeks sting with an icy numbness.

I determine it's best to sweep wide and then work my way toward the center. My feet will disturb the deep snow that's accumulated on the ground, a foot or more in some places. There's nothing I can do to avoid that, but I'll do my best not to destroy any evidence hiding beneath. Anything sticking up from the ground will garner a closer look, and anything in the trees. The limbs, covered in dark green needles, bear the weight of snow, making the spruce look old.