Page 35 of Cold and Bitter Snow

“What are you going to—”

But Conor was already running towards one of the chairs. Siena followed him, her phone in her hand. With every step she sank all the way to her knees.

“Laurent—” she began. “Forget your press conference! The Midi chairlift is going up in flames!”

Se squinted, trying to see the number behind the flames. “We’re at pylon 8—it looks like it’s going to collapse. Get the ski patrol here, firefighters, medics ....”

Without waiting for an answer she hung up the phone. Conor was standing just below one of the chairs. Ten meters above him a small child dangled in the air. A slightly older boy sat on the chairlift, his hand the only thing keeping her from plummeting ten meters below onto the snow where her skis had already landed.

“Oh my God,” breathed Siena. She remembered a story about some teenagers using a piste barrier as a net to stop a fall some years earlier. But there were no piste barriers here, nothing she could use. The snow was soft, but not soft enough for that kind of fall.

“No!” The boy on the chair leaned further forward to get a better hold of the girl’s wrist. The chair dangled dangerously.

“Hey kid,” Conor said loudly but calmly as he tossed the small pair of skis out of the way. “What’s your name?”

“Ryan,” the boy said through clenched teeth.

“My name is Conor. I’m going to help you out. Is that your sister, Ryan? What’s her name?”

“Amy!” the boy shouted.

“Let Amy go, Ryan. I promise I’ll catch her.”

“What if you miss …”

“I won’t miss. That’s a promise. You have to let Amy go now, though.” Conor’s voice was still calm, but he was looking intently at the burning pylon.

If the chair falls both children will die.

“Okay.” The boy’s voice was so quiet they almost didn’t hear it over the howling wind.

“On three,” Conor said encouragingly. “One. Two. Three.”

The boy released his grip on the girl. Both children screamed.

Conor was right there, as he’d promised. He opened his arms. Instead of tensing, he seemed to relax his body as the girl landed in his arms. He rolled to the ground, using the soft snow to reduce the impact of their fall.

From the floor Conor groaned but didn’t stay down long. Careful not to move the girl he extricated himself from underneath her and got to his knees.

“You okay, Amy?” he asked.

Siena ran over to her. “Amy? How are you feeling?”

The little girl stood up easily. She seemed unharmed. “I want Ryan,” she said, her expression serious. “And my daddy. And my blankie. It’s back home.”

Siena and Conor exchanged a relieved glance.

“Are you okay?” Siena asked Conor. He nodded, but his expression was grim. “Let’s hope second time’s lucky as well.”

“I don’t know, Conor. The boy’s a lot bigger.”

“It’s going to be okay. Move the girl back, please, Siena. If the pylon collapses, this set of chairs will all drop.”

The little boy had gone very quiet now that his sister was safe. He huddled in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Ryan?” Conor asked, shouting now to be heard over the wind and the fire. “You did great.”

“You caught her. You caught Amy.”