Dill's Chalet: A Disaster Fiction Series by A. R. Shaw

Author:A. R. Shaw [Shaw, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A. R. Shaw
Published: 2024-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Lighter and lighter. I sense the outside getting closer. I’m no longer afraid to raise my head because of the mountain weighing down on top of me. Less snow. More sky. I can smell the outside even if I can’t breathe it in yet, and my digging becomes more frantic.

But the worst is yet to come. The top layer of the avalanche has crusted over, and it’s like scratching through the slate tiles on Sharon’s kitchen floor in Seattle. My paws scrape and scuff the ice, jagged splinters rain down on my face and get me nowhere, but I’m so close. Too close to give up. And besides, I still have Sharon’s voice in my head—she’s counting on me to help her.

Finally, I see a glimpse of movement on the other side of the ice. I freeze, watching, waiting for it to reappear. When it doesn’t, I wonder if I imagined it, but then I see it again: a tiny black shape moving in and out of my vision. I dig faster, harder, using every ounce of energy inside me. I want to find the black thing outside. It might mean help. And, even if it doesn’t, it means that I’m no longer trapped, and that’s all I can think about right now.

I let out a yelp when my paw breaks through the icy crust. It doesn’t hurt, but I’ve gotten so used to meeting nothing but densely packed snow, that it comes as a surprise when my paw swipes cold air instead.

Pulling it back through, I dig even harder, the hole in the thin layer separates me from the rest of the world slowly growing until it’s large enough for me to poke my head outside. I lay there panting, my body still buried inside the snowdrift, and my head outside, like a rabbit peeking out of its underground burrow. Only I wasn’t underground. I’m high above the ground surrounded by a blanket of white snow.

I lay quite still, waiting for my breathing to regulate, and give my body a chance to rest. From my viewpoint, I can see the mountain looming high above me. I can’t see any other chalets—perhaps they are buried too. I can’t see the trail that leads down the slope toward Britton’s cabin at the bottom. I can’t even see the little red car that got us here from Seattle.

Everything looks different. Broken. The entire landscape is painted over and rearranged into an unusual shape that I don’t recognize because it doesn’t fit in with the memories in my head. Where’s the tree that shelters the porch from rain and provids shade from the sun when it’s high in the sky? Where are the boats that were moored on the lake when we arrived? Where are the pine trees, and the resort that services the lake, and the road that wounds around it to the bottom of the mountain?

Did the eye of the storm cause all this damage?

Did Britton known this would happen or did it destroy his cabin too?

I can’t think about that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.