“Lots of fresh powder. Like a blanket.” I nodded, even though only bits and pieces of his words were being processed. “Once I’m down, I’ll flash the light three times to let you know when you’re clear to follow.”
I gnawed at my bottom lip, heart racing. The jump itself was scary enough, but the cabin that seemed so close when traveling on the tram in the past was hardly a pale smear in the pitch-black. How long would the trek in the snow be? God, this was a mistake, and we should stay.
I couldn’t change my life if I were dead.
With his body still twisted to block the door, he grabbed my shoulders. “You are right. This is the best plan. The cabin. The fire. It’s all good. We got this. Okay?”
I nodded, stomach dangerously close to heaving the Pop-Tarts. “The b-bathroom,” I added helpfully.
“Yes. Right. Okay. Come out to the ledge with me. The doors are gonna snap shut without the power on,” he said.
Not surprisingly, the tram was not designed to be climbed. However, in the spot where it got stuck, the tower allowedworkers to climb to the top and make repairs. That meant we just had to hold on to the exterior rail for a few steps before we reached the relative safety of the tower.
With the supplies on his back, he let me pass. The whole tram rocked more when clinging to its exterior. The air bit through the layers, even with his hat and gloves on. My bag-wrapped shoes had little purchase, so I clung to the handrails that lined the side with my whole body. Every second, I was taunting death.
“We just need to step onto the tower. Then the ladder.” He let go of the doors, and they snapped shut, his foot barely getting out of the way in time. The tram swayed dangerously, and I moaned, the bar cutting into my arm. His face was colorless when I checked on him. He blinked back from the beam of the flashlight. “I’m okay. I’m going to go around you,” he shouted. “Just follow me as close as possible.”
As soon as he passed, I gripped him with one hand and the handrail with the other.
I clung to his middle as best I could as we slowly scooted off the tram onto the massive tower surrounding it. There was more room and more grips to hold on to. My adrenaline was coursing so hard that I couldn’t feel the cold anymore.
“I’m going down.” Owen descended the ladder, flashlight clenched between his teeth.
Every step away from me, the fears poured in.
Cold. Loud. Fear. Death. Help.
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. We were scaling a tower in the middle of a snowstorm because it was thesafechoice. All because I hadn’t been invited to a party. Was I really the world’s most self-centered person? Or had my heart been broken so many times that it couldn’t find empathy as easily? Either way, Owen didn’t deserve any of this. Fear and guilt battered me harder than the wind.
He shouted something, but I couldn’t make it out. I could only stare, blinking back freezing tears, as his light grew dimmer and dimmer.
Then gone.
I was meant to follow right behind, but I struggled to get my body moving. This was a first for me. This had been the plan I pushed. I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep, freezing, motivating breath, choked on a snowflake, coughed a few times, then forced myself to move.
I started down the ladder after him, one shaking step at a time. Slowly, and with intent, I moved one foot then the other, arms threaded through the rungs as gravity did its best to help. I started to find a pattern and focused on the rhythm of my body. Just when I thought I might make it, my stupid bagged foot slipped right off the rung. I gasped out and smacked my chin on the step as I flailed to hold on.
There was a shout lost in the wind below.
I squeezed my eyes tight, sweating despite it all. There were no other options. I had to keep moving. I gripped the ladder, pits and hands damp with sweat. I closed my eyes, begging to just hold on a few more feet. Just a few more feet. Just one more jump and the worst was over.
When I reached the point where the rungs ended, I waited for the sign from Owen. The hazy abyss stared back at me, blurred and chaotic. Flakes whizzed past through the beam of light from my flashlight. I squinted my eyes, trying to make him out, trying to see anything.
Panic.
Fear.
“Owen,” I moaned, realizing that my teeth were chattering so hard that the muscles in my jaw ached.
Nothing.
He fell. His legs were broken. I shouldn’t have done this. This was all my fault. I was selfish to think I could change my lot in life, any more than a tiger could change its spots. Wait, a lion could change their stripes? Whatever. I wanted to go back to the comfort of my home. I wanted to forget any of this ever happened. Who would feed the cats?
A flash in the darkness.
Then another and a third.
I sobbed out in relief, and the sound was instantly carried away. It wasn’t as far as I thought. He was just a few feet below. Fresh snow. Like a bed.
