Snow Rush by James Easton

Author:James Easton [Easton, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JM Sands Publishing
Published: 2020-04-05T22:00:00+00:00

Carolina’s guts lurched as the earth opening out before her gave her a second of vertigo. She crouched, and looked over the edge. The immediate drop wasn’t high, maybe two metres, down to a wide ledge that ran flat for a short distance, then sloped down sharply, curving around into pine trees where the main drop started. It was a massive escarpment, over a small, frozen lake three hundred metres below her position. She’d seen it on the map. They’d driven her here. She was trapped.

No choice. She wound her legs around, and climbed down to the ledge. The edge – and certain death - was three metres behind her. She picked up a stone the size of her fist.

They weren’t directly above her, but they were close. They were mixing English in with other languages. Their conversation was measured, speculative. They were getting ready to finish it. They’d make her talk, then kill her. Best way to keep her quiet, with nobody to stop them up here.

She pressed herself into the face. A clump of brambles hung down off the lip above her and through that, she saw the black ski jacket, far away. It was Sylvestre.

There was a crumbling sound above her. Rock, roots and dirt gave way. Then a big, loud rush and a man’s arms closed around her and lifted her off her feet. Red Jacket.

Her vision went blotchy. She stopped breathing. He weighed too much, was too strong. The way he had her, she couldn’t swing the stone she held. He pulled her away from the face, toward the edge. No. No. She dug her fingers into his hands, trying for a pinkie to rip backwards. Impossible. She flung her head back to butt him, but he’d tucked his chin into her shoulder. He had her in a vice. He slowed, nearing the edge, trying to control her there.

Think or you are dead. Think.

She let herself go limp. Suddenly. Slipping down in his grip against his smooth jacket, turning into his bicep and biting him, earning more space as he moved his arm away. She kept twisting, kicking her legs, turning herself over so he lost his grip. Carolina smashed the stone into the bridge of his foot as she landed. He howled in pain.

She moved away, spreading her knees and scooting on her haunches, with her head still low.

Get space. Then fight.

She shunted to one side, and back, and came up on a knee. He reached into his jacket pocket. She threw the stone at him. He flinched and dropped a handgun. She dived for it, swiping, and knocked it away. He followed it like he was trying to catch a mouse and went over the edge.

He did not scream. The silence was massive.

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