Page 93 of Snowed In


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I blinked, then blinked again. My heart sank. Deep down in my lungs, I could feel the dark origins of a scream.

The radio’s crank handle wasn’t there.

Forty-Nine

MORGAN

“WHAT IS IT?” Jeremy shouted. They were standing around me now in a little triangle, shielding me from the wind. “WHAT’S WRONG?”

I was so destroyed I couldn’t even speak. All I could do was tap the back of the radio with one gloved hand.

For a good ten seconds, the only sound was the howl of the storm.

“WELL… SHIT!”

Shane grabbed the bag and reached into it up to his elbow. All eyes were glued to him as his fingers poked through a ragged hole, torn in the bottom.

“FUUUUUUUUUUCK!” he shouted.

I was suddenly dizzy. Like I’d been running on the fumes of my own adrenaline, and now that too was gone, and everything was hitting me all at once.

“DID YOU PUT IT IN HERE?” Boone shouted at Jeremy.

“YES!”

“WAS THE HANDLE ATTACHED TO IT?”

“I—I THINK SO!”

“WELL IT’S NOT NOW! AND IT’S NOT IN HERE!”

Shane shook the bag, then threw it downward in anger. “IT’S PROBABLY A HALF-MILE BACK IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE!”

As if we didn’t have enough problems, the wind picked up. It blew all new ice into our faces, obliterating our vision.

“M—MAYBE WE COULD GO BACK FOR IT!” Jeremy scrambled. “MAYBE WE—”

There was a sudden burst of static, as Boone flipped the radio on. The lights lit up! They were dim… and they weren’t nearly charged as much I would’ve liked…

But they were still on.

“HURRY!” I shouted. “GIVE ME THE MICROPHONE!”

I ripped my glove off so fast it went spinning off into the storm. I didn’t care. It didn’t slow me down for an instant.

Squeezing so hard it actually hurt, I pressed the button. The transmit light went green.

“MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!” I screamed. “WE’RE SURVIVORS OF THE CERVIGNO AVALANCHE! WE’RE TRANSMITTING FROM AN OLD RADIO TOWER ABOUT TWO MILES WEST OF THE OLD RESORT! WE NEED HELP! WE NEED—”

I stopped as the transmit light blinked off. It fluttered a few times, then came on again… only this time a much dimmer green than before.

“MAYDAY! MAYDAY!” I cried frantically. “REPEAT: WE’RE AT A RADIO TOWER WEST OF—”

The transmission failed mid-sentence as the light died. So did my hopes.

So did everything.

Damn.

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