Page 100 of One Last Shot

He might be circling in the dark, unable to communicate with them. And then he’d run out of fuel and?—

“For what? Wanting to save a little girl?” Oaken’s question reached out to her in the semi-darkness. “Um, for the record, me too.”

She’d turned on her headlamp, and it pushed back enough of the shadows to reveal untrodden snow. But according to Caroline and Ruthie, they’d separated from the others back on the trail, so she and Oaken had backtracked and found another trail, this one leading into a canyon along the river, southwest, on the other side of the resort. It seemed to be a cross country ski trail of sorts, wide enough for a snowcat, although it hadn’t yet been touched.

“This might be fruitless,” said Boo. “How would they survive without shelter?”

“Hey.” He grabbed her hand, not unlike she had after his story about Maggie. Suddenly, the chocolate milk made sense. He stopped her. “You don’t know that. Maybe they’re scrappy, like you were in the forest when you were lost.”

She stilled. “You remember that story?”

“Of course I do.” He frowned, then turned and kept walking, his light casting along trees.

Huh. He’d listened to her. Seen her.

Remembered.

See, this was why Oakenwasn’tBlake, and she’d stop comparing himright now.Because Oaken was honest and kind and exactly the kind of person she’d want on her team.

Maybe even in her life.

“Hannah! Grace!” he shouted.

No answer, and the darkness just seemed to spill in around them. The trees crackled. From a distance,a howl lifted.

She found his hand. He squeezed. “Don’t worry. I’d make a much more meaty lunch.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Help!” The word rose, faint, on the wind.

She stilled. “Did you hear that?”

“The wolves, sharpening their knives?”

“Again, not funny. No,listen.”

Nothing but the wind shivering the trees. She put her hands to her mouth. “Hannah! Grace!”

A moment, then, “Here! I’m here!”

Not loud, but enough that Oaken nodded. “It sounds like it’s coming from nearer the cliff side.”

“If I was seeking shelter in a storm, I’d look for a cave, or an inlet.” Boo headed off trail in the direction of the voice. “Keep shouting!”

Silence, and for a moment she thought maybe?—

“Here! Help!”

Oaken pushed past her and took the lead, plowing through the deeper drifts, balancing on trees, holding them away so she could follow in his steps.

They broke out into a small clearing, tufted with white, and his light shone against a towering cliff wall.

It took a second for the realization to click in. She grabbed his harness and yanked back.

He stopped and snow fell away at his feet.

Then, suddenly, the entire shelf tumbled loose, caving in. He scrambled back, away, nearly on top of her as the ledge dropped, some twenty feet down.