snowmobile, slowly moving along the edge. I was impressed. She wasnât showing any fear. She went as far down as possible, then did a half circle and started back up the mountain. As she was passing us, she stopped.
âI canât see anything there,â she said.
âI canât either,â I replied.
âBut there has to be some way down.â
I shrugged. âKeep looking, I guess.â
The sun had been moving down in the sky for some time, and the light was starting to dim. I pulled my sleeve back and looked at my watch. Almost four thirty. The sun would be setting in the next hour, and then it would be completely dark. I did not want to be here in the dark.
âWe only have about half an hour of light left,â I said.
Hope nodded and twisted the accelerator.
We drove as far up along the drop as possible and back down again. We couldnât see anything through the snow. In a couple of spots we could see into the distance, where it looked like there were a couple of gentle slopes. But we spent most of our time wiping the visors of our helmets and trying to breathe with our lips tight.
Eventually I pulled up beside Hope. The sun was gone, leaving only the flickering glow of a west-coast sunset.
âWe have to go back,â I said. âYou lead.â She nodded, gunned the snowmobile and shot back into the trees. It took less than fifteen minutes for us to return to the cabin, but by the time we arrived, it was pitch-dark outside, and there was still no sign of Bryce.
chapter ten
Sam was asleep on his bunk, his mouth open and pumping out gurgling snores. The air smelled heavily of alcohol.
âWow. He sure seems concerned for our safety,â Dave said. The satellite phone was on the dining table. I picked it up and tried to turn it on.
Nothing.
Hope went into the bathroom. The click of the door closing snapped Sam out of sleep. He sat up and wiped a bit of spittle off his chin.
âWhere have you been?â he said.
âLooking for Bryce,â I said as I removed my jacket and hung it over the back of a chair.
âYou took the snowmobiles. You took off without telling me. You have to tell me when you leave. I was worried.â
âSo worried you fell asleep?â Dave said.
Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He tilted a little as he stood and then steadied himself. âI guess you didnât find him.â
âNo,â I replied. âAnd he didnât come back here?â
Sam shook his head.
I was angry with Sam. He was the adult here. He should have been the one out looking for Bryce. He should at least be the one trying to figure out what to do next. He didnât even seem concerned about Bryce. I mean, it seemed pretty self-centered to me. Like this whole Backcountry Patrol thing was just some kind of sideline, a way for him to make money. But didnât he feel responsible for us at all? He walked across the room to the kitchen area. I lit one of the lanterns, and Sam seemed to scurry away from the light. It was almost six oâclock, but in the heart of winter, six oâclock means complete darkness.
âDo you guys want something to eat?â Sam asked. âPasta? Beans?â
âPasta,â Dave said. âAnd lots of it. Iâm starving.â
I was starving as well, but I wasnât going to say anything. I stared at Sam for a minute.
âWhat?â he said.
âWhat are we going to do, Sam? Weâre out here on the side of a mountain. Someone has gone missing. We have no idea where he is, or who took him.â
âWhoa, whoa. Who said someone took him?â
Hope had just stepped out of the bathroom. âHow else would he have left?â she said. âHe wouldnât just go out for a walk and not be able to find his way back, right? Weâre on the side of a mountain.â
âHe could have,â Sam replied.
âIf thatâs what happened, then why
Learning to Kill: Stories