Trapped with the Blizzard (28 page)

Someone had gotten through to mountain rescue with the radio to let them know we had a couple medical emergencies. Aside from Miah, Marie’s mom wasn’t coping too well without her respirator. Without the power and a limited amount of oxygen, she would become critically ill in a matter of hours. An old man had suffered a minor heart attack during the fire and a pregnant woman was feeling the first couple rounds of contractions.

If there was a break in the storm, they apparently were going to try to send a helicopter rescue to get him and the others off the mountain, probably into Denver. For a couple hundred people in the middle of a crisis situation, I think we weren’t doing all that bad. Except for, you know, an arsonist trying to kill us all like sheep locked in a pen.

I stared into the empty white mug I grasped between my hands and tried to make sense of the tumult of thoughts flowing through me. There was a distinct ebb and flow, like waves crashing on shore. One second, the rage and heartache squeezed at my chest so hard I couldn’t breathe. It was so intense, I couldn’t imagine it ever releasing. And then it would fade, slowly, bit by bit, and I was left exhausted.

Rage. I was absolutely furious with my mom for leaving me with Liz and Bryan. You’d think after all the madness they’d gone through, she would’ve seen it as an unacceptable risk. I’m surprised they weren’t dodging planes falling from the sky or random ninja attacks at the rate they were going. Tellure Hollow was like the Bermuda Triangle of crazy ass shit.

The sickest, darkest part of me wished the cell phone towers were still up just so I could call her.
Hey Mom, Merry Christmas. Yeah, everything’s good. Trapped in the middle of a blizzard with some psychopath. This was a great idea! Totally helping me get over Dad’s problems, thanks! By the way, you should be arrested for child endangerment.

Regret. Looking over at the Goldbergs, the pair of them hunched over in the corner of the room, I felt like my heart was going to break. The guilt was overwhelming. If Miah and I hadn’t fooled around, if I had just agreed to play a game of stupid truth or dare and ignore Marie’s stupid attitude, then none of this would’ve happened. The least I could do now was stay with him.

Defeat. My gaze returned to Miah. The way I’d left it with him, the way I’d stormed off… I just needed to apologize. Anything beyond that I could handle. However, he chose to have or not have me in his life. But I had to at least get the chance to say I was sorry.

Blame. Bryan’s only fault, as far as I could see, was loving Liz. None of this would’ve happened if she hadn’t been so full of herself. As much as she complained about it, she loved being the center of attention. She craved it. Even if it was negative attention, she still courted it. I had met enough women like her in my short life to recognize it. She’d claim to hate the drama, all while being the biggest drama queen, just like Marie.

She didn’t tell anyone about this psycho running around because she, yet again, wanted to come out as some kind of hero… or victim turned hero… something. As I stared at my empty cup of tea, I grew increasingly angrier with her. Maybe it was the stress of the situation, but I got so twisted around, it was as if Liz had strangled Miah herself, thrown him outside in the cold with her bare hands. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Marie approach from behind.

“Hey, I didn’t realize you were still here,” she said, gently touching me on the shoulder.

I jumped and spun in my chair, ready to lash out. She leapt back, holding her arms up defensively. “Sorry,” I apologized as my heart slowed. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m going to sleep.” I shook out my hands, the knuckles left aching from squeezing the mug so hard. She gently lifted the chair beside me, making sure not to scrape it across the floor. We sat beside Miah in silence for a few minutes. I still didn’t know where I stood with her, but a tenuous truce had been wordlessly met.

“Why is he still in here?” she asked.

“They don’t want to risk moving him until he wakes up in case something internal hurts. And the ovens keep the room warmer than anywhere else. Plus, they don’t want to scare the shit out everyone out there,” I replied bitterly.

“I heard someone say there’s going to be a break in the storm in the next couple hours,” she said quietly. “Hopefully, they’ll be able to get a helicopter in then.”

I snorted and rolled my shoulders in an effort to release the tension that’d built up. “It’s not like we’re going to get out of here alive,” I said with a dark laugh.

“Oh, well there’s the spirit.” Marie looked at me sideways. “Has there been any change with… has he moved?”

I glanced up at the Goldbergs, their shoulders weighed heavy with the fate of the unconscious boy they’d promised to watch over. “No, nothing. No better or worse. How is your mom doing?”

Marie rapped her knuckles on the table, the sound traveling right down my nerves. “Not great. Dusty said if they can get the helicopters, she’ll be on the second one out.” She looked at me again, and I could feel her scrutiny in my peripheral vision. “Want to go for a walk? You’ve been sitting here for hours.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m gonna be here until he wakes up,” I said with a shake of my head.

“Come on. I think it’ll do you some good,” she said as she reached for my hand across the table.

I wrenched it away, my temper flaring. “What did I just say? I’m not going anywhere.” I clenched my jaw and considered holding back, but I was too hurt and scared. “I don’t know how you can be so fucking calm. You know this whole thing was our fault in the first place, right?”

“This wasn’t… how could this possibly be our fault?”

“How could it not be?” I threw back at her. “We were the ones fighting over him like a pair of idiots. If you hadn’t been so possessive and creepy, I wouldn’t have pushed you like I did. If we hadn’t fought, he wouldn’t have…” My stomach churned with bitter acid and truth. I stared at my hands, pushing the cuticles back, picking under the nails. “I should’ve just ignored his call. Maybe it would’ve given him enough time. Selfish. I’m always so selfish.”

“The call? What are you…” Marie spoke softly. It was a gentle, reassuring tone that drove me right up the wall, like she thought I was going crazy. “We had no way of knowing. No one told us what was going on. How could we have possibly suspected something like this would happen? You can’t beat yourself up…”

I slammed my palm on the table, the empty mug rattling with the impact. “But someone did, didn’t they?
She
knew.” I felt myself slipping down that dark spiral, the steep slope nearly impossible to scale back up. “It doesn’t matter what we know or don’t know. We abandoned him. He needed us there. Only a few more minutes and maybe it could’ve been avoided…”

She squinted at me, the corner of her eyes wrinkling as she leaned back. “You barely even know him. No offense, but I’m the one who grew up with him.”

We were both lashing out at each other from a place of fear. No one knows how to handle situations like that, especially a couple of kids. But I remember feeling almost gleeful she’d handed me an excuse to fight. And once I uncorked that anger, there was no going back.

“You’re right. You grew up with him, which is why he describes you as a pathological fucking liar. You two might have a long ‘ol history together, but it’s nothing like what you tried to hint at in the bathroom last night.”

“What are…”

“My instinct about you was right. You’re a basic bitch who needs to be the center of attention at all times. You couldn’t fucking stand him looking at anyone but you.” She leaned back as I rocked forward. “And it’s because you manipulated him, he’s like this,” I said, jabbing a finger towards Miah.

I put my hand up to stop her protest. Marie’s eyebrows shot up as she snorted. “Wow. You go straight for the jugular, don’t you?” She leaned forward on her elbows, peering into my eyes as if seeing me for the first time. “I do care, but I’m smart enough to realize that I can’t do anything about it right now. I’m not stubbornly sitting here pretending like I have control over the situation.”

“Oh, I’m under no delusions that I have control over fucking anything,” I said with a bitter laugh. “I just think it’s pretty shitty for you to cut and run when your friend is hanging on by a thread.”

My voice had risen, filling the quiet void of the kitchen. Mrs. Goldberg looked up, her expression obscured by a shadow and the oxygen mask on her face. It was enough to know that my comment had traveled.

“I don’t get you, you know,” she said, raising her hands in defeat. “You’re all over the place.”

“Yeah? Is my behavior a bit random? I know how familiar you are with existing in the bipolar-verse, but excuse me. I’ve never been in a position like this before. Next time I’ll remember how to act,” I said in a growing shout.

Marie tried to defuse the situation by getting up. I don’t think she was prepared for the amount of anger built up inside of me. The poor girl had no idea how many tons of dark vitriol I had been carrying before all of this. “All right. I’m done. I can’t believe I actually left my mom to come check on you,” she said with derision.

I followed her from the kitchen as she left, poking at her, hoping to continue the fight. It felt good to rage a little bit, even if I knew deep down I’d directed it at the wrong person.

“See? You’re walking away. You couldn’t care less what happens to anyone else other than yourself,” I shouted as we came through the swinging doors into the main area.

Marie spun, her eyes alight with a fury I had yet not seen. She stepped closer, so close we were practically nose to nose. I met her gaze and refused to back down. After a small, sad laugh, she shook her head.

“I don’t know what happened to you to fill you with such poison, but I’m not going to let myself choke on it, too.”

A few hours later, I sat in the same spot, stewing. The kitchen was winding down after serving dinner. A plate of cold turkey and green beans, my Christmas Eve dinner, sat untouched beside me. The staff had moved around us, casting sidelong glances I pretended to ignore. But now we were alone. I leaned forward, balancing my elbows on my knees, picking at the skin around my fingernails.

His breathing changed. It had become background noise, a steady, shallow rhythm I didn’t notice until it deepened. I stood quickly, knocking the chair back a few feet with a clatter. I reached under the blanket for his hand and to my surprise, he squeezed back.

“Oh, thank God! Miah? Can you hear me? You’re safe. You’re perfectly safe. Just stay still, okay?”

His eyes started to move under his eyelids, a slight rocking of his head back and forth. I wanted to get someone’s attention, but didn’t want to shout. We’d been surrounded by people all night and, of course, right when I needed help, no one was to be found. Marie’s parents were gone from their normal spot. Most of the camping lanterns they’d used to cook by were switched off. It was eerily calm except for a murmur coming from the Great Hall.

Miah squeezed my hand again and tried to talk. I brushed his cheek and hushed him. I knew I had to get help but even walking a few feet away felt like I was abandoning him all over again. I didn’t want him to open his eyes and be alone. Even one second feeling that scared was too much for my heart to bear.

“I’m going to get help. I’ll be right back, okay? I promise. I’m still in the same room with you. It’ll take me… I’ll be right back.”

I rushed from his side to the swinging doors. When I stuck my head out into the Great Hall, it didn’t surprise me to see Liz standing in the center of the crowd like a politician or a preacher. All eyes were on her, rapt and tense. I quickly looked around for Dusty or the other woman. In my panic, all the faces blended together.

All the anger and frustration and fear came out in one shout. To hell with calm, to hell with control. “I need help! He’s waking up!”

The winter sun set swiftly, most of its meager light blocked by the thick clouds and snow. The lodge was losing heat fast and with the darkness closing in, no one was in a good mood. Bruce had done a great job getting Christmas dinner ready. Thanks to the gas stoves, there hadn’t been any disruption in food at least. But the town had eaten in near silence.

Miserable, cold, scared. We needed a leader to step up, reassure, and take responsibility. And since no one else wanted the job, it was up to us.

“Do we really have to do this?” I whispered to Bryan. “I feel like we’re about to be lynched.”

He crossed his arms and surveyed the crowd. “We’re not going to be lynched.”