TWISTED ICE (ONC 2023)

CHAPTER 12

I duck my head and barrel into the tree line, branches slapping my forehead as I charge into the woods. The thuds of Jasmine's and Hunter's boots clomp through the snow behind me. Halfway through the same path that led us to the cabin, I plow ahead, trying to put as much distance between me and them as possible. By the time I reach the end of the spruce and cedar, about to hit the incline in stride, I notice I don't hear their pursuit anymore. I stop on the treeless hillside, out in the open with the moonlight casting me in its eerie light.

I pant for a few restless seconds, waiting, listening.

My hands are freezing, so I dig them into the pockets of my parka and find my gloves. I thrust my hands into them one at a time, my breath fogging in front of me.

The woodsy scent of the forest laces the air, helping me tell the difference between what's real and what's not. My mind drifts back to my father's death, his blood on my hands. I had blamed myself for his accident because I couldn't save him, even though I didn't love him. He had built that man cave behind the house and had a ground wire running from the power box to a metal stake. Of course, that rod stuck up several inches too high, and in one of his drunken episodes, he fell on top of it. I hadn't killed him. It was an accident, but my mother laid the fault on my shoulders because I, a little girl, couldn't keep him from dying.

But now I know it wasn't my fault.

Relief floods my heart as my fingers and palms grow warm. Standing here, I wonder why Hunter and Jasmine aren't chasing me anymore.

Suspicious of a trap, I dash ahead, rushing up to the top, where the rocks stick up like a mini version of the Rocky Mountains. When I draw near the formation, glancing back, I stumble to my knees, my hands driving into the snow to the earth beneath.

My left knee smashes into the rocks, a jolt of pain rocketing through my thigh.

A yelp escapes my throat as the shooting throb pulses and dulls. I rub my knee cap and flex my leg at the joint, grunting and groaning until I work the soreness out enough to continue.

In this surreal moment, I can't help but peer over the top of the incline to see the creek glimmering in the moonlight, a meandering snake between the mountain ranges.

As I push up, a sound cuts through the night.

An engine. A car?

No, the grumble rattles deep and hearty, like a truck.

A beam of light pierces the darkness on the far side of the trees, behind the cabin, close to the mountainside to the south. Looking down at the path I took up the hillside reveals nothing but my footprints in the snow. There must be a road that cuts through a mountain pass leading to the cabin. Of course, it's covered in icy precipitation, which means the truck is a four-wheel-drive with chains on the tires.

I have to hurry while they're distracted. My goal was to draw them out of the woods and then circle back around. I wanted to disappear into the trees again, hoping to lose them along the way. Now, I don't have to worry about that because the vehicle has their attention.

Back at the tree line, I slip into the dark shadows with a slight limp, working my way through the forest.

At the clearing, I see the vehicle heading our way. It hasn't reached the cabin yet. I assume Jasmine and Hunter are walking toward the approaching headlights, which are still a quarter of a mile away.

As I break into the open, I'm startled by two shadowy figures standing side by side. Mere feet away, I try to stop but can't and slam into the middle of them, sending them spinning from me. Jasmine cries out and Hunter grunts as I tumble to the side, rolling in the snow.