Brush of Shade (25 page)

Open mouthed, I
stared up at the brightly lit course. “That sounds insane.”

“The game is a
favorite winter sport played at all skill levels graduating up from the bunny
slope on up to advanced runs. At ridge level competition, you’ve got to be an
experienced sapphire level or higher and be good enough to make a team. It’s
not for the faint hearted or inept since it requires the ability to shift
vibrate as the thought is forming in your head.”

“Great, so you
can plow into a snow bank or tree while vibrating. What happens if you get hurt
and pass out while you’re shifted?”

“Every sport has
its risk,” he answered with a confident shrug of his wide shoulders.

“Shade,
shouldn’t you be heading topside?” a guy wearing an orange vest called out from
his snowmobile.

“I told the team
to take my name off the roster.”

“You didn’t get
the word? Troy’s wife’s car broke down just outside of Gunnison on the way home
this afternoon. She had all four kids with her and not a one old enough yet to
vibrate. Troy headed over to see if he could get the car going. Your team’s
down a man.”

Shade scowled up
at the ridge where tiny figures were moving around, getting into position.
“Shad?”

“Can’t, I’m
restricted until the clan gives me clearance,” he answered, his narrowed eyes
flicking over to me as he stomped back to us with
Rylan
and Meadow on his heels.

“That’s it then.
The team will have to forfeit.”

“But, Shade,
you’ve got to defend the title. A win will set a new team record,”
Rylan
protested, his expectant face upturned in what was
clearly a case of hero worship.

“Please! I don’t
want to listen to Daisy
McCay’s
gloating for an
entire year,” Meadow pleaded.

“I’ve got other
responsibilities,” he replied, turning away from the snowmobiler.

“I can’t believe
I’m going to say this,” I said, shaking my head. “As insanely dangerous as this
race is, you need to get yourself up there and support your team.”

 An eager
expression lit ups his eyes, causing the narrow white bands to spiral, then
abruptly his face closed down. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.
I’m in excellent company, right?” I asked, staring straight at Shadow, thinking
I could put up with his company for a few minutes. “Have some fun. It’s the
holidays.”

“Shad?”

“Just go
already. I’ll play nice.”

I caught a
glimpse of Shade dashing towards the ski lift before I had to give in to
Meadow’s persistent tugging. “Alright lead the way.”

“Hey look, it’s
the child warden,” a nasty voice called out from the crowd.

“Isn’t she going
to let you play, Shadow?”

Rylan
stopped. Shadow dropped an arm about his shoulder and
said loudly, “Ten bucks says Leroy will be pancaking it down the slope again
this year.” Both
Rylan
and Meadow laughed as we left
behind taunts that were now directed at Shade’s team.

Half way up the
slope, I heard a familiar laugh. “Trent?” I called to the group of three guys
and one girl heading in the opposite direction.

He disentangled
himself from the girl who was draped all over him. “Hey, Olivia,” he answered,
jogging over to my side. “Come watch the race with us.”

Meadow tugged on
my hand. “She’s watching it with us.”

“Trent, come on.
I thought we were going to the finish line,” the girl whined, her lower lip
pushing out into a pout.

“Don’t let me
keep you. Your girlfriend is getting impatient,” I replied in a frosty tone.

Trent lowered
his voice. “It’s not what you think. We’re just friends.”

 “Close
friends apparently.”

He glowered down
at Meadow. “Go away. We’re having an adult conversation.”

“Now isn’t the
time for this,” I replied, taking a step back.

 He grabbed
my arm. “I said it’s not like that. Come party with us. You know it’ll be more
fun than hanging out with kids.”

A gust knocked
him sideways, forcing him to let go of my arm. He spun around. Snowballs slid
down his back. He glared at Shad and
Rylan
. “You can
get in trouble for that.”

I looped an arm
around Meadow’s shoulders. “We’ve got to go. We’re going to miss the race. Lead
the way, Meadow.”

Trent stepped
forward as though to block my way. Anger flared in his eyes and he rounded on
Shadow, shouting, “Jerk! I bet you’re not so tough with fists.”

“Trent, are you
crazy,” Bradley exclaimed, grabbing Trent and dragging him away.

 “I’ll call
you tomorrow, Olivia. I can explain,” Trent shouted after us.

Once we got a
little higher up the slope
Rylan
handed me his
binoculars. “Shade’s team is wearing the red jackets. He’s the one with the
black cap. As captain, he’ll glide gate five. It’s got the trickiest line. He’s
got to calculate the right angle and hold it so he can shoot out in perfect
position to be
board
man for the gate six
glider
.”

 “And if he
doesn’t get a good line?” I asked, envisioning safety procedures and such.

“He’ll have to
pour on the vibes and power glide to launch his man. If you look just to the
left of the third lift tower from the peak, past the band of pines over towards
the rock outcropping, you can see the start of the gate. Five is a wicked
airborne.”

Rylan’s
description was enough to jump start my heart.
Swallowing hard, I gaped through the binoculars unnerved by their definition of
the word, gate. The shiny, open topped tube resembled a cross between a bobsled
run and a snowboarder’s half pike, except that it was angled to rocket the
glider into dizzying heights. These people were insane, and I just sent the guy
who was supposed to keep me safe up there?

Eager clusters
of folks wearing their team colors were spread out across the lower end of the
slope, their numbers thinning as we hiked higher up the slope away from
families with little kids. I trailed along, falling further behind
Rylan
and Shadow with Meadow skipping impatiently at my
side. Grimacing and breathing hard, I stopped between a pair of pine trees.

“My leg can’t
take this. You run ahead and join
Rylan
. I can see
perfectly fine from here.” Too fine, I realized, my eyes easily finding the
scary, silver tube. I shuddered, wishing I had stayed back at the picnic table
where it was impossible to see the end of the tube curving way up into the air
and the incredibly far drop back to the powdery slope. My palms started to
sweat, dampening the inside of my gloves.

Shadow stalked
back down the slope. “You can see the whole race from the rocks,” he explained
as though I couldn’t figure that out for myself.

 
“No, thanks.
I’m good.”

“Scared of
heights?” he sneered.

“Healing body.
But don’t let me keep you. Go join your
cousins.”

His muscles
tensed and relaxed as his gaze tracked his teammates. “Get over yourself,
princess. This race is the finals of the holiday tournament. Meadow invited
you. She’ll feel obligated to come down here where she can’t see anything. Jeez
you’re a selfish b—”

“Don’t,” I
snapped, my eyes glued to the ridge line. “Go tell Meadow to stay put. Insist.”

The crowd
cheered. My Shade radar kicked in. I locked onto the figure in the red jacket
with the black cap launching out of the first tube with his boots precariously riding
the curved edge.

“It’s going to
be like that is it? Team Nighthawks thought they could create a block to throw
off Shade’s timing or maybe even press him over the edge and out of the race,”
Shad explained, speaking faster and louder. “It’ll take more than that. Not one
of them can edge glide close to his speed. They’re just lucky his regular
blocker has been benched. Come on,
Callum
, get up
there and play defense. Slam them with a snow wall,” Shad yelled as the teams
entered the second gate.

A figure in a
red jacket shoved his way between two blue jackets. Beneath their feet, a sheet
of white lifted off the slope. The upper end rolled over, forming a powdery
garnish curl. Shade’s teammate shot forward seconds before the snow curl hit
the back of the men’s knees. One went down immediately, tumbling and rolling to
a stop. The other flailed with one leg in the air before regaining control. My
chest squeezed tighter. I had to remember that I could breathe. Obviously some
of the finer points of the race had been conveniently glossed over. They were
all nuts.

The crowd
cheered. Shad hooted and punched his arm in the air.

Too many flying
bodies careened across the slope at speeds I could hardly fathom. Suddenly,
someone wearing a green jacket shot out of the short tube of gate three,
spinning like a figure skater doing a triple Lutz. He hung gracefully in the
air for a half a beat before smacking into the ground. I whirled about a hand
clenched over my mouth.

“Way to go
Leroy.” Shadow chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish, too?” he said
derisively. “You can look now. He’s up and angling, albeit slowly, for the next
gate. Green’s fallen way off the pace.”

With my hands
gripping a pine bough for support, I tried to hold it together for the sake of
all the wardens who’d come before me. If only the crowd would simmer down, I’d
get my heart rate under control. Snow slid off the branches and plopped onto my
boots. I turned my head and a bouncing branch slapped my right temple. Air
hissed between my pinched lips.

“Turn off the
drama. Not every moment has to revolve around you.”

“Shut up,” I
shouted at him, or at least I tried to. I couldn’t seem to get enough air into
my lungs. The face I wanted very much to hate, but couldn’t because it held too
much of Shade, leaned in closer, lips curving sharply downward. “Go on, sneer,
laugh, whatever. I can’t dredge up concern for your warped opinion. I want down
off this slope. I cannot watch someone else in agony or wait for someone else
to die. I can’t do it again,” I cried, my ragged voice dragging out of an
uncomfortably tight chest. Sister Willow was going to be disappointed after all
her effort. I swiped a glove across my eyes. “There, that’ll give you something
else to feel superior about.”

He let out a
loud breath, his gaze pivoting between me and the race. An out stretched arm
gestured towards the course. “No one’s going to die. Just come—”

 I pushed
past him. “I’m not staying just so you can get off on my fears.”

“Hold up; I’ve
got to tell the kids. Olivia, just wait. I didn’t mean it.” He grabbed my
forearm. “You’re shaking?” he said, his voice confused, maybe even concerned.

A collective
gasp swept across the face of the slope. Shadow whirled about, his sudden
movement jerking me around. “What the hell? It’s localized on gate five.”

 A stream
of abrasive vibrations jarred my spine. I cringed and pulled free. At first I
didn’t see the problem. Then another stiff, cross breeze unfurled the gate
flags and kicked up the snow, hampering visibility in the landing zone. A black
capped figure shot out of the tube, his extended body laid out nearly
horizontal. Hope flared as Shade sailed high above the turbulent gusts sweeping
across the course.

Flags rippled
and flipped around their poles. Those marking the end of the tube were ripped
away by a violent updraft scooping a wall of snow off the mountain. Officials
nearest the gate were the first to be buried. A few monitoring the hook ups for
gate six managed to vibe out of the way. Wind shrieked across the tube, slicing
grooves into the snow, sending four skiers tumbling and skidding to a halt.

I grabbed
Shadow’s arm, not even caring about the pricking sensation making my hand go
numb. The crowd gathered along the slope let out a frightened cry as the
roiling snow mass crested perilously above the solitary figure dropping through
the air. Snow plumes swatted at Shade, like a fly swatter at a bug. The air
crackled. Shade pulled his body into a tucked position and flung an arm
backwards. His punch blew out a picnic table sized hole in the wall. Folks
cheered. The leading snow plume curled and flicked. A horrified hush settled
over the crowd as limbs tumbled out of the tuck. For a moment, Shade looked
like a man surfing a snow cloud. Suddenly, the wave collapsed, slamming into
the slope with the deafening roar of an avalanche. Beach ball sized chunks of
ice showered onlookers. Swirling currents spat Shade back out, catapulting him
high into the air in a series of backwards somersaults. Head first; his limp
body plummeted into the localized storm.

My too human and
quite out of shape body couldn’t keep up with Shadow’s pace. I stumbled. A
blurred arm tugged me not too gently back onto my feet and kept going. I yanked
my arm free and shouted, “Go!” Shadow was already streaking away, his red
jacket blending with the snow.

At first I
confused the wail with the noise of the crowd, so I was slow to look behind me.
When I did, my dumbfounded brain couldn’t equate the spiraling formation to
reality. Ice pelts stung my face, shaking me out of my stupor. Gaining speed
and size, the snow twister skirted the far side of the pine trees, angling up
the steep slope towards the distracted crowd perched on the rock outcropping.
The kids!

Each stumbling
footstep took me deeper into an otherworldly landscape devoid of comforting
features to give a sense of space or the passage of time. The shrieking wind—
a formless
entity intent upon driving me to my
knees—bombarded my body with heavy, wet snow that piled onto my slim frame.
Within this frightening shroud, colors resembled ghostly smears left on a white
board. Too short of breath from the thin air, I couldn’t even call for help.
Not that my cries would’ve been heard. They were too quick and the wind too
fierce. My heart clamored in my chest. Shade’s name was on my lips as though
I’d spent a lifetime turning to him. The horrifying image of his limp,
cart-wheeling body tormented my every step. I had to trust that others were
seeing to him, just like I had to trust in my decision.

I jabbed my crutch
into the snow, trying to see by the halo of light coming off the ski run.
Something caught my eye, but it was swallowed by the maddened snow before I
could get a good look. I drew in a lung full of frigid air that burned all the
way down, flash freezing me from the inside out. I moaned and sagged, pushing
my makeshift post sideways. Heaviness stole over my tiring body, lulling my
troubled thoughts with pleasant dreams of tropical breezes and sun drenched
beaches. A cool breeze sprayed stinging sand into my face. I muttered irritably
and forced one eye open. My head popped up. I squinted; trying to tell if what
I’d seen between the swirling eddies had been a stain against the otherwise
endless white. Please let it be the rocks the kids were using. If not, then at
least someplace I could use for shelter, I prayed, shivering violently.

Out of the
tempestuous sea rose the dark, jagged stones of my lighthouse. I searched the
rock face for the kids or anyone else who might’ve sought shelter. Near the
base, a patch of red against black galvanized my weary body.
“
Rylan
!
Meadow!”
I shouted,
but the wind scooped my voice away. In lurching movements, I stumbled towards
the two bodies huddled against boulders that had minutes earlier been their
perch.

“Olivia!”
Rylan
shouted, grabbing my arm and dragging me closer when
I collapsed on my knees just outside the narrow crevice. “Where’s Shadow?”

“I’m alone,” I
answered through teeth that wouldn’t stop chattering. I shifted to the side,
trying to use my shivering body to protect them against the stinging ice and
brutal gusts.

“The wind came
out of nowhere. Everyone scattered. I thought Meadow was following me, but when
I turned to help her down the steep part, she wasn’t there,”
Rylan
explained, his voice catching as he tucked his little
sister’s scarf back into place. “I called for help, but no one came. Then I saw
Meadow’s boot. The wind had knocked her right off the rock. I . . . I thought
she was dead. I climbed down and dragged her here.” He sucked in his lower lip
and turned to face the rock and sniffed loudly.

“You did great.”
My stomach did a few flips when I took in the dark stain on the gray and white,
striped scarf encircling his sister’s neck. “Meadow, how do you feel?”

“My head is woozy
and my arm hurts.” She started to cry. “It won’t straighten.”

“Don’t try. Keep
it against your body. Here, let’s use my scarf. That might help,” I said,
pulling my scarf off. That’s when I noticed how badly she was shaking, worse
than I was. Oh crap, shock. I had to get them off the slope before we got
hypothermia waiting for help.

Rylan
tugged a glove off with his teeth and slipped a
pulsating hand under her collar. “It’s not very warm, but it should help. I
keep trying to connect with Mom and Dad, but I can’t . . . I’m too scared. This
is my fault. I should’ve grabbed Meadow when the wind first started.”

“You found her;
you’re a hero. Everything is going to be alright. I’ll get you guys out of here
and nice and warm in no time,” I replied, forcing confidence into my voice. Now
I had to live up to that promise. “
Rylan
, what level
are you?”

After a moment’s
pause, he answered, his wide eyes never leaving the blizzard clearly visible
over my shoulder.
“Early turquoise.
What’s happening?”

He didn’t know?
This was bad.

“
Rylan
, look at me. You need to listen to me. Can you vibe
ski?” I demanded
,
forming a plan that I had no way of
knowing would work or if they were too frightened to try. “Can you?” I asked
again, shaking him to get his attention off the blizzard. Bleak eyes tore into
me. I fought to keep my fear from showing.

“Shade taught me
to vibe ski last winter,” he stammered.

“But,
Rylan
, you’re not rated to ski above beginner.” Meadow
cried harder, her good hand clinging to his arm.

I took a deep breath,
bracing for the paralyzing cold that stole my energy. Air that was almost
lukewarm eased a bit of the tightness around my chest. I moved
Rylan’s
hand from in front of my face and pressed it onto
his sister’s chest. My cheeks were too stiff to manage much of a smile of
thanks. “The picnic area is nearby,” I said, striving to sound reassuring when
I’d just gotten a lesson on vibe levels before dinner.

His eyes flicked
over to Meadow’s drawn face and back to mine. I saw the question and the
stubbornness written across his youthful features. The down coat hid too much
of his body. I prayed his answer would be yes. “Are you strong enough to carry
Meadow?”

“Maybe?” he said
uncertainly. When Meadow whimpered, his face turned hard like I’d seen on Shade
when he was determined. “Boys of the clan bulk up sooner than human boys.
But what about you?”

“I’m not hurt.
Meadow needs medical attention. From what I could tell this seems to be
localized. You’ve just got to get down out of it, and you’ll be able to get her
help.”

A gust swept
around the boulders, shoving me sideways into
Rylan
.
I used the moment to speak directly into his ear. “Only you can get Meadow out
of here before she goes into shock. Everyone will be meeting up at the parking
lot. Medical help will be there. Your family will be there. They’re probably
already searching.”

He clutched his
sister’s uninjured hand to his chest. “But I can’t leave you. Don’t you see?
I’m a Whisperer and you’re the heir, and human.” Wide-eyed he stared at the
drift that had formed behind my back, his lips moving as though he were trying
to work out a solution.

I turned away,
so he wouldn’t be swayed by my uncertainties. I had to get them out of here
before we were buried. “I got up here, right? Now I’m going to help get Meadow
into your arms. Hurry, before you’re too cold to move,” I ordered before he had
time to think. Meadow sobbed and clung to my hand. I had to force her to wrap
her good arm around
Rylan’s
neck.

“Short burst.
Kneel down, rest, and then go again. Don’t be
reckless. Keep your speed low. It’s slick and gusty. If you wipe out, it could
be a while before you’re found, too long,” I shouted, staring hard into
Rylan’s
pale green eyes. His gaze lowered to Meadow’s drawn
face and he nodded. I knew he understood. “Get going. Watch out for that
cluster of pine trees we passed on the way up here.”

“I’ll remember,”
Rylan
said confidently, so like a miniature version
of Shade that for a second all I could see was Shade’s body twisting out of
control.

The snow
swallowed them almost instantaneously. Alone with the howling wind for company,
I prayed I hadn’t sent them to die. Now it was time to consider my options. The
scary truth was that I hadn’t the strength left to follow them down the
mountain, even if my leg held up.
Rylan
would send
help, but that could take a while. For all I knew, others had been injured or
had gotten lost in the freak storm. If I could just get out of this wind, maybe
find a recess that I could squeeze into, I could wait it out. Somebody would
come.

I shook off the
accumulation of heavy snow, envying
Rylan’s
ability
to vibe warmth to frozen extremities. Next, I orientated myself by keeping the
rock face along my right side. Just in case, I trailed my hand across its icy
surface. I staggered forward unable to see more than a few inches in front of
my face, sinking often up to my knees in the loose powder.

Hope flared when
my hand and then my arm slid inside the recess. I envisioned barging into some
creature’s home. It had better like to share. The wail of a banshee swooped
from the overhead ledges. Its earsplitting cry and the frenzied snow ignited my
imagination, transforming stone into a man’s profile. I gulped and wobbled on
my feet, my hand reaching blindly for the recess. As I turned, a brutal gust
smacked the center of my back, shoving me into the saw-toothed entrance. With a
sharp cry, I folded at the waist, air emptying out of my lungs. My vision swam,
and I slid down to my knees. Tears froze to my cheeks from the cry I couldn’t
vocalize. Agonizing moments ticked by as I waited helplessly for my lungs to
expand.

Move or freeze.
I planted my crutch in the snow; it sunk
past the hand grip. I clawed overhead with my right hand, feeling blindly for
the entrance. Flexed fingers—trapped inside stiff gloves caked in snow—scraped
uselessly across slick rocks. I strained to reach higher, hooked my arm around
stone, and pulled. The sandpaper finish of the rock face tore through fabric
and into skin. I gritted my teeth and dragged my quivering body into a semi-upright
stance. I felt a rumble travel through the thick soles of my boots. A sinking
sensation uncoiled in the pit of my stomach. My brows creased as I stared at
the rippling motion racing across the surface of the snow, crumbling wind-swept
ridge lines. A hole opened up, sucking my crutch out of my numb grip. My first
decent lungful of air tore out of my chest as a shrill, panicked scream. I
lunged for the recess, scrambling to get inside before I got sucked away like
my lost crutch.

For several tense
minutes I was occupied by my mid-section that hurt like I’d been punched in the
gut. Frigid gust whistled through the opening, pelting me with snow that
quickly piled up in front of the entrance. Oh, God, I was being buried alive.
The world closed in. I couldn’t catch my breath. Don’t be a baby. This isn’t
like the accident. People know I’m out here. Skiers get rescued. I’d seen it on
television. I’d beaten worse. Do something!

I shoved snow
out the entrance to keep it clear for my rescuers. The movement churned up my
sour stomach. I swallowed down the acid in the back of my mouth. Bongo drums
started another set. The mound of snow by my feet kept growing. I tried to kick
it clear with my right foot, but my boot was stuck. I pulled, felt it bind, and
then with a ripping sound it broke free. Pain tore through my calf. I wormed a
glove down the side of my leg.
Blood.
Not the other
leg!

Shivers that I
couldn’t stop occupied my sleepy mind. Instead of acting, I dreamed of knocking
on a door and begging for help as frozen tears dropped like diamonds at my
feet.

Clink. Listen.
Clink. Shivers tapped my buckle against rock.

The cramped
space made it difficult to work my belt off with hands that burned inside their
wet gloves. I tugged, feeling the belt slide the last bit and come free.
Frantic I scraped, exposing more rock. Exceptional hearing, Shade had boasted.
I banged the buckle against the rock as hard as I could. Someone would be
looking. Someone would hear.