Chapter 65

The snow slammed into him. Into them. With such ferocity, that it literally tore Buddy from him, and tossed him, a man—like a tiny piece of nothing—into the freezing expanse of air.

“Nooo!” He heard himself screaming the word, but nothing came out. The breath had been knocked from his heaving lungs.

And as he flew, his one last scrambled thought went to Buddy and the woman he loved. He hoped with all his heart the dog would live. Live, and reunite with Keara. They were close enough for that to be a possibility.

But he was going down. He catapulted through the air, turned somersaults, was slapped sideways, up-and-down, by the huge Sasquatch. Skis still attached to his feet. No release. Shit.

And as abruptly as it had come, it was all over. The rumble was gone, as if it had never existed. The silence—snowy and dark—reigned.

A breath-taking, magnificent silence. Peaceful and serene. Awe-inspiring and otherworldly if you were cozy and warm. Safe.

Terror-filled, striking horror into the most stalwart heart, if you were where he was…

Completely buried in snow.

Help!

His training kicked in, both ski patrol and Special Ops He shoved quickly, created the tiny space for air. Spit.

Thank you, gravity. He was almost right side up.

His thought flew to his beacon. He hoped like hell it would do its job. The radio signal would assist in any search and rescue efforts...if there was one.

And for the moment, even though it was wrong, he did what he needed to do, and shouldn’t do.

He stopped, took a few precious moments…to breathe.

* * *

It had only been a minute, right? Sven didn’t know. Really didn’t. But suddenly, he became aware of activity above him. Frenzied activity. Someone, something was there.

Buddy?

That crazy dog was digging him out!

“Here, boy!” Sven yelled, through layers of snow. How many, he didn’t know, as he struggled not to panic, not to lose oxygen with a body’s normal response to extreme stress. But if Buddy was digging him out and he was aware of it…could he be that deep? “I’m here!”

After more long moments than he cared to acknowledge, the black pads of Buddy’s feet appeared against the white. The first major hurdle was overcome.

Air. He gulped hard, deep lungfuls into his overwhelmed body. Savored the feeling of simply breathing. Soon, though, he took closer stock of his situation. He was in snow, compacted all around him, like the tightest kid-made, determinedly formed snowball, gripping him in an icy prison.

The real fight was about to start. Both mentally, and physically. Number one: there was no way he’d live long in these conditions. And he had to handle that thought, compartmentalize it, not allow it to start his panic response. Deplete his precious energy by overwhelming his nervous system.

Buddy was barking. “Ow! Ow!” Wanting him to climb out. Get to safety.

Worse, he felt himself sinking. Sinking. A weak base under him…

He did the only thing he could, as his training kicked in again. Late, possibly? But it did. He started thrashing. Swimming in the snow…to save his life.

He was exhausted, but this was his life. Renewed energy coursed through him. If someone came, Buddy would alert them to his presence. The radio signal had to be broadcasting his location. Their transceivers, if they hunting for him, would pick it up. Bring them to him.

But if it didn’t, and they didn’t come…he’d freeze here. And so would the dog his woman loved.

The one he’d given everything up…to save.