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Chapter Eleven
It was the loud knocking at the door that roused them all from a deep and satisfied slumber.
“Shit!” Lazarus cursed, as he scrambled around, looking for his clothes.
The banging came again, along with a shout. “Hello? Anyone there?”
“Coming,” Lazarus shouted back as they all hurried to dress.
“Lazarus Fortney?” the voice called.
“That’s me.”
“This is mountain rescue. We’ll start clearing the door. The snow is pretty high out here.”
“Thanks.”
The hustle to cover themselves became a little less rushed, but the guys all grabbed their waterproof trousers and pulled them on while Shyla wriggled into her jeans.
This was it, she thought, and despite the fact she was being rescued, she knew a depthless moment of sadness.
This was the end. They were going to be escorted back to civilization. Back to the real world. And everything that had transpired here would become a distant memory.
It shocked her to realize she wasn’t ready for that.
She also knew she didn’t have a choice.
Jericho made fast work of clearing up the mess of bedding that cluttered the floor after their night-time romps while Lazarus spoke in muted tones to whoever was behind the door as he waited for the exit to be sufficiently cleared. Dante cleared away the evidence of their meals and tidied up the kitchen, so Shyla pulled her bag over to her and started packing away anything which was within reach.
Was she being overly sensitive? It was like they couldn’t wait to get away from here.
Finally, the door was opened, just as Jericho pulled the coverings off the windows. Bright sunlight spilled through, flooding the small space with sunbeams and dust motes, at the same time as several burly members of the mountain rescue crew walked through the door, trampling water, ice, and footprints over the floor they’d taken such care to keep dry.
Shyla supposed it didn’t matter anymore. The realization lodged like a rock in her chest.
She’d probably never see this place again.
One guy came over to her and explained he was a paramedic. “Can I take a look at your ankle to assess it for the journey down?” he asked.
Shyla pulled off her sock and pulled the denim up out of his way while he prodded and manipulated, then pulled out a compression bandage and announced that she’d need to be carried down on a stretcher.
“Is that really necessary?” Shyla asked in dismay. “I’m sure I could manage with a little support.”
“Sorry, the medic replied. “We have strict rules, and the frost has made it pretty lethal out there. We’re all geared up, but you don’t have that advantage.”
She sighed and accepted the inevitable, but still felt like a fraud when they strapped her to a gurney.
Shyla took one last look around as the party waited for Lazarus to make the fire safe and shovel out the red-hot embers. It was ridiculous to think she’d miss this place, but she would.
As they closed and secured the door behind them, she felt like she was leaving a part - a very important part - of herself behind.
Since Shyla wasn’t keeping warm by being active, she was bundled up like a mummy. Even her nose and mouth were covered, and a pair of orange tinted snow glasses had been placed over her eyes to shield her from the glare. She felt separated from everyone else on more than just a physical level, so she just listened to the conversations around her.
The three kids had been found, all safe and well, on their way down the mountain after the weather had improved. Seemed they’d found shelter in a cave where they had managed to build a fire from the dry wood and debris they’d found inside. Their good condition and high spirits were what had allowed part of the team searching for them to peel off and detour to their cabin.
Antony had apparently been advised that Shyla was safe and had remained at the hotel, awaiting her return. She wished he’d just gone home. Now she’d have to face an awkward conversation with him, but if her experiences on the mountain hadn’t already convinced her that he wasn’t the right man for her, then spending a few days with Lazarus, Jericho and Dante had.
Shyla couldn’t help wondering if there might be any future for the four of them. Okay, so it wasn’t your average set-up, but maybe it could be more… Or maybe it could be more with one of them if the constraints of societal norms were too much for their interlude to be anything other than a stolen moment in time.
