Without another word, Jake strode toward a snowmobile parked near the edge of the lot. It belonged to the rescue team, but no one dared stop him. He swung a leg over the seat, his movements quick and decisive.
“Jake, wait!” Reva called out, stepping forward. “The rescue team is already?—”
“They’re too slow,” he shot back, his voice hard, leaving no room for argument. His hands gripped the handlebars, his knuckles white. “I’m not waiting for them.”
Before anyone could respond, Jake turned the key. The engine roared to life, the sound cutting through the frigid air. He twisted the throttle, and the snowmobile surged forward, spraying loose powder behind him. The girlfriends stood frozen, watching as he raced toward the treacherous slope, his figure growing smaller and smaller against the vast expanse of white.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Lila whispered, her voice trembling.
Reva placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes locked on Jake’s retreating form. “He’s not going to stop,” she said quietly. “Not until he finds her.”
The group stood in stunned silence; their breaths visible in the icy air as they watched him disappear into the snow-dusted wilderness.
Hope mingled with dread in her heart as Reva silently prayed he would find Capri—and make it back himself.
Capri woke with a start, the icy bite of snow against her face snapping her into reality. For a moment, she couldn’t move as her mind struggled to catch up to her body.
She grunted as she tried to shift. “What the—” She let her whisper fade as awareness—and fear—gripped her.
The…the avalanche.
She wasn’t buried, but her limbs were weighed down by layers of snow, her arms partially pinned. Cold seeped through her clothes, sharp and unforgiving. She tried to shift and felt a jagged rock pressing into her back. The sharp discomfort jolted her, and then—white-hot pain shot through her legs.
She gasped, her breath puffing out in visible clouds. “No, no, no,” she whispered, clenching her teeth as the pain spiraled out, radiating from her thighs. Her fingers moved shakily to brush away the snow around her legs. Her right foot was bent at an unnatural angle, her left pinned awkwardly against another rock.
A broken leg. Maybe two.
Panic crept in as her situation became horrifyingly clear. She was alone on a mountainside, swept off her snowmobile by the avalanche, and unable to move. Her breaths came faster, shallower, her chest tightening with every second. She tilted her head to look around, but all she could see was a vast sea of white and scattered debris—the remnants of her own reckless decision.
Even her helmet was missing, ripped off by the snow’s force.
“Stupid,” she muttered, her voice trembling as tears pricked at her eyes. “Why can’t I just listen? Why do I always have to prove something?”
The memory of Bodhi’s warning cut through her self-pity. He had told her to take the safer route. He’d practically begged her. But no, she had to charge ahead, had to prove she could master the most dangerous stretch. And now she was paying for it.
The ache in her legs grew more unbearable by the second, and with it, the icy grip of fear wrapped tighter around her. She might not be found right away. Depending on how far the snow slide had taken her down the mountain…maybe never.
She could have a compound fracture. She could be bleeding internally.
She might not survive.
The thought sent her spiraling, her mind racing through worst-case scenarios. She pictured herself succumbing to the cold, her friends, Jake, and her mother receiving the news of her body being recovered days, maybe weeks, later. The idea of them mourning her—of her mom burying another loved one—was almost more than she could bear.
“No,” she said aloud, trying to steady herself. “Stop it. They’ll find you. Someone will come.”
But even as she said it, doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind. She had no idea how far she’d been swept, no clue if the rescuers would even know where to start. The snow covered everything.
The silence was deafening. She thought of the other racers, wondered if they were alive…or dead.
A sob broke free, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, fighting the rising tide of despair. Tears slid down her cheeks, hot against her frozen skin.
She couldn’t fall apart now. Not yet. If she had any chance of surviving, she needed to stay calm, to think. But the reality of her helplessness pressed down harder than the snow around her.
She let her head fall back against the rock, staring up at the sky, an eerily clear expanse above her. Blue and cold and infinite.
“Great,” she muttered bitterly. “Perfect day to die.”
The thought chilled her more than the snow ever could. She didn’t want to die. Not here. Not like this. But as the minutes dragged on and the pain in her legs grew sharper, Capri felt the icy tendrils of doubt tighten their grip. For once, she couldn’t fix this herself. She could only hope someone else would.
