Chapter 68

They hurtled over the uneven terrain in Kelley’s fire-red jeep, racing, hell-bent, to the site. Keara hugged Jake close in her lap, texted Effie as the bumps and dips tossed her around mercilessly.

Love you. We’re on our way to find him.

She sent hearts to Ilona, who was staying up to hear, had rallied half her tenants to keep watch with her, and texted her their best.

Sending good energy now, me & the gang. We’re sending it like never before.

They’d agreed each group would go to different starting points. Time was of the essence. If the two were indeed buried, they had an incredibly short window. Without an avy dog that could drastically speed up the search, they’d have to do it manually, transceivers in hand.

Kelley tried to inject hope into her, she knew. She told her of the Austrian skier who had survived 5 hours under three feet of snow—but he’d had a huge pocket of air. Dante reminded her of the miracle boy who’d survived for 40 minutes in the French Alps without injury.

But while it gave her hope, it also made her sick.

The fact that they knew these stories meant one thing, and one thing only. They were the exceptions. Most did not.

Eighteen minutes as a baseline time to survive buried under snow had been mentioned, and it just about froze the blood in Keara's veins. Though Christian had said longer.

There was less than ten minutes at this point.

The jeep came to a halt, and Dante and Kelley leapt out. They’d driven on a treacherous, short path, up the mountain, to the side of the avalanche. The horrifying thing had been so large, they couldn’t hope to cover the whole area, not even with the four pairs they had.

“Stay,” ordered Dante sharply, not even looking at Keara, as he grabbed his and Kelley’s gear.

“What?” Keara had her hand on the door, was about to jump out. “I’m coming too. I’m going to…”

“You don’t have a partner. First rule of backcountry safety. A partner. No exceptions. And sorry to be harsh, but you’ll slow us down. Stay.” He and Kelley didn’t make any more apologies or give any explanations. They ran into the blinding snowstorm, angled upward on the treacherous, snow-covered slope.

It was going to be hell for Dante, with the injuries he lived with, but there he was. Focused. Determined. Putting his all into it. They were soon gone from sight.

“Uh-huh,” Keara said. She jumped out of the jeep, immediately slapped on the avalanche beacon Chilam had given her. In that native spirit, weird little convo.

Thank you.

But shit. When she went to grab a transceiver from the front seat…there wasn’t one. They were all gone. Hell.

Now how was she supposed to pick up Sven’s signal? Find his location?

Now, there was only possibility. Such a long shot. But…

“I know you’re not an avy dog yet, Jake. But you know your master, right?” Better than anyone on earth. “Best of all—you love him. You’d find him, anywhere. Right?”

The dog looked at her expectantly, quivering.

The blood thrummed in her veins. She was counting on that. On the love this little dog had for this good man. Betting everything on it.

She pulled one of Sven’s socks from her bag, found in his area, at the chalet. Used, dirty. Perfect. Brandished it under the dog’s nose.

The wind tore at her serviceable parka, at the little dog’s coat. Then she spoke her command, the one her heart was impelling her to give. “Find. Search.”

She didn’t add Daddy, because she knew it wasn’t one of the formal training commands. But in her heart, she did.

Find Daddy.

Jake barked, excited, almost out of his skin. Then he took off, running in front of her. Halted. Sniffed upward, then downward. Chose down.

The search was on.

* * *

Time was ticking on. He’d kept thrashing, then he’d had to stop from exhaustion. Thrash again with his arms, but the weight on his foot—those damn skis—were pulling him down.

And there was Buddy. Whining, still excitable. Still trying to get him out.

But that was it. There was no-one else. Just him and the dog, on Terrence Point Mountain. And it looked like the mountain had drawn him his final set of cards.

You think love is so easy?

He answered the mountain back in kind, now. In his spirit, from deep within his heart. Gave the facts.

He didn’t think so anymore. It never would be. There’d always be challenges, when least expected. Gut-splintering challenges.

But love…was still love. And worth it.

“Just love her, Buddy,” he said, emotion crowding his throat, managing to get the words out. “Love her and protect her and keep her warm. And let her know I…”

The cold swallowed his final words, as his strength gave out. His head slumped, his arms fell onto the ice, and Buddy lay down on the snow, beside him, whimpering.