I wriggled my arm up my body until my hand reached my face. I made a bigger air pocket before I continued to use my fingers to dig upward. The ice and snow weren’t too packed, and it only took a minute before my hand popped through the surface. I was under about a foot and a half of snow, but at least I could see out and, more importantly, breathe.
I took a deep breath of chilled, fresh air. I still couldn’t feel my legs, but at least I had oxygen. Step one accomplished.
I closed my eyes for a minute and tried to recall anything and everything I knew about avalanches. Everything I recalled just told me I was fucked. Normally in this kind of situation—not that being caught in an avalanche was normal—someone would be nearby, looking to help. In my case, I already knew there was only one person still out there looking for me, and I hoped to God Evan Arden was under ten tons of snow and ice right now. It wasn’t the way I wanted to kill him, but it would still do the trick.
Arden’s being dead didn’t help me get myself out of where I was though, and I couldn’t win if I couldn’t escape. The loss of my goggles in the avalanche also meant the loss of the camera and GPS locator attached to them. None of the investors back at Franks’ camp would be able to see what I could see. If Arden was completely buried, they wouldn’t have any way of finding him either.
With images of Raine and Alex in my head, I started fighting through the snow.
Moving my arms around in the hole I had made near my head, I widened the pocket around me as well as the hole a few inches above my head. Part of the snowpack around me fell, dusting me with powder but also clearing the space in front of me. The hole let in more fresh air and gave me the ability to observe a little around me. There wasn’t much more than sky to see, but it was a hell of a lot better than snow. What worried me the most was the view in front of me.
I was on my back at about a fifteen-degree angle with snow and ice all around me, but as the snow in front of my face fell away, I found myself looking out over a ravine. I was perched about a third of the way up the side of the mountain. Right below me was a wide rock ledge jutting out from the nearest mountain ridge. If I did manage to dig my way out, I was going to have to scale all the way down the cliff in front of me.
Thinking about scaling the cliffs also made me think about my legs. I was starting to be able to feel them again, and what I felt wasn’t good at all. The left one was starting to throb like a bitch, and I was pretty sure it was either broken or at least badly cut from striking a rock. I wouldn’t know for sure until I dug myself out, so I started scooping out the snow around my chest and stomach. It was slow going, and I couldn’t turn my head to look around or anything, so I just focused on the ice and snow in front of me.
It felt like I was at it for hours though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The chill in my body had seeped into my core, and I was shivering, making it difficult to push the snow out of the way. There was a decent opening in front of me now, and I could see out a lot better. I shoved more of the snow behind me and away from my face, ending up with an icy pillow at the back of my head and added maneuverability for my neck.
Just as I thought I might get my shoulders free, I saw the slightest movement out of the corner of my eye. Near my right ear, I felt cold pressure pressed against my temple, followed by an audible click.
No.
Oh fuck no.
I couldn’t move enough to turn around and even see him, let alone try to fight him off. I could at least hope that the sound of the firing gun would be enough to trigger another avalanche and end his sorry ass as I died in the snow, but there was nothing I could do to stop him.
Evan Arden had a gun at my head, and I couldn’t do anything about it. My already cold body turned even colder.
Raine.
Fucking failed her.
Again.
Tensing my body in preparation for what was to come, I closed my eyes and tried to keep her face in my mind, but the business end of Arden’s Beretta was too much to ignore.
Fucker.
“Aren’t you supposed to give me some kind of ‘ha-ha-I-knew-I-was-going-to-win-the whole-time’ kind of speech first?” I asked with a snarl.
I heard him snort a little laugh behind me.
“Not really my style,” he said.
The barrel of the Beretta pressed a little harder against my skull, and without another word, Evan Arden pulled back on the trigger.
There was a click—louder than the one from the hammer—but that was it.
No gunshot. No continued avalanche. No bullet in my brain.
“Fuck,” Arden muttered.
I relaxed my muscles.
“Run out of ammo?” I asked. I chuckled softly because the fucking irony was perfect and because I figured it would piss him off.
“No,” he said in a deadpan voice. “Jammed. Probably from the ice or a rock or something.”
I felt my insides churn. Arden was way too good to be stopped by a jammed gun. He would have it working again in a few seconds, which wasn’t nearly enough time for me to get myself dug out enough to turn around, take the gun, and beat him to death with the blunt end. It was only a delay of the inevitable.
Raine.
I closed my eyes again and tried to be grateful that I had a little time to picture her face, think about the way she smelled, and remember how her skin felt in my hands. I hoped and prayed that Landon would just let her and Alex go, now that he had no use for them.
I took a long, shuddering breath and waited for the inevitable.
But it didn’t come.
“Motherfucker,” Arden mumbled, and I realized I’d been thinking about Raine for quite some time now, and I still wasn’t dead.
“Having a problem?” I hoped my smirk was evident in my voice.
“A bit,” he said bluntly but didn’t elaborate.
I had the feeling talking wasn’t one of Evan Arden’s strong points.
“Something I can help you with?”
Arden took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the water vapor wafted over me. I heard and felt him shift in the snow, and I realized just how close to me he was. We had both been stopped by the rock ledge directly below us. If I could get myself turned around enough to reach back behind me, I might be able to snap his neck.
Why isn’t he just beating me to death?
Before I could act on one thought or consider the other, he bashed me in the side of the head with the blunt end of his weapon.
“Ow! Motherfucker!”
The angle was bad, or he would have knocked me unconscious. He smacked me again, but I managed to move my head a bit to the side at the last moment. Gritting my teeth, I listened to the scraping sound as he moved his arm. Concentrating, I waited for the sound of the crunching snow to enter my ears, reached up behind my head, and grabbed for his wrist.
I ended up with two fingers and part of the gun, which I twisted backwards in an effort to break his fingers. My wrist scratched against a rock, but my thick clothing preventing it from scraping off my skin. He tightened up, prepared for the move, and I waited for him to grab me with his other hand, but he didn’t. He tried to pull away, but I wasn’t having any of that. As painful as it was, I held onto his fingers and slammed my hand at an awkward, backward angle against the rock behind my head.
Arden grunted, our hands parted, and the gun fell from his grip, cascading down the cliff and bouncing high in the air as it hit a rock. Spinning silently, it dropped out of sight, no longer a part of Arden’s arsenal.
“Fuck,” he muttered, completely monotone.
“Why didn’t you just fucking shoot me?” I snapped.