P.D. Singer - Mountain 02 - Snow on the Mountain by PD Singer

Author:PD Singer [Singer, PD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Danger past, Kurt got in line for another trip up the hill. He’d keep an eye out for Egon from now on -- he wouldn’t let the man tumble him into harm, though if he was on the black diamonds and the other man on the bunny hill, danger didn’t exactly lurk.

So, he’d have a great time pelting down one of the other expert runs, though it might not be quite the same without something important on the line. Didn’t matter -- his blood was singing through his veins and the wind was giving him chilly kisses. The sun was out, for now, and it was all good. Except Rudi had again failed to pick up his phone. Kurt grimaced at the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

Two lifts later he waved at Gabe. "Gonna try Hotdog Bun this time." Kurt turned that way once he offloaded.

"You sure? I’m about to leave for lunch," Gabe offered, making Kurt pause.

"Okay, I’ll wait!" Kurt swung around, biting the snow with his edges. The competition was more important than the novelty.

Gabe grabbed his skis and stepped into the bindings. "How fast do you want to take it?" he asked as they ran the access trail.

"How fast can you go?" Kurt grinned at the man. He wanted something to add the spice that fear had given his last run, though without the danger over and above the run itself.

"Try to keep up!" Gabe pushed his poles into the snow to launch down the mountain. Try, hah! Kurt followed, skating down the incline onto the slope proper. Gabe was setting a good pace, though he was turning more than a racer would. There was a twenty yard gap between them, closing fast, as Kurt rose to the challenge, taking a straighter line down the slope than his opponent. Damn, this was good! A dare, a mountain, and a beautiful day. The pace was much less than his last two runs down this hill, but so were the stakes -- Kurt drew steadily closer until he was nearly abreast of Gabe, who would probably take this next section as a straightaway. Kurt pushed off and tucked, shooting past Gabe and then sliding a little more through the next turn than he would have liked, but shedding some speed. This wasn’t Grenoble, and Gabe didn’t deserve a thrashing.

Down in the junction a little clump of skiers was heading out of Sugar Gulch. Kurt swung wide to avoid them and screeched to a halt. Gabe was a few seconds behind; he, too, pulled up.

"Guess you can keep up," Gabe panted, leaning on his poles. "I try," Kurt said, instead of doing a victory dance. "We ought to do that on Hotdog Bun."

"Only if you like to slalom; there are gates all the way down for two abreast. Not my favorite." Gabe looked around for any oncoming skiers and then started toward the huts. "Not without a full helmet and some shin guards." Kurt had gone over too many gates to want to get whacked in tender places, like his nose.

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