The snowplow sideswiped the truck box, sending it skidding sideways across the highway. Kat gripped the steering wheel as Jace’s truck tipped and careened onto two wheels. It teetered momentarily before smashing back down onto all fours. Kat’s neck whipped back from the force. Again her foot searched for the brake pedal. But it was futile.
The truck skidded into a 180, pulling Kat into its vortex as shades of white spun by the windshield. She lurched forward, hitting her forehead on the rearview mirror. A split-second later, the seat belt tightened and pulled her back into her seat.
The plow backed up and accelerated again. It slammed against the truck, shattering the windshield. Kat bounced back and forth before lurching to a stop, tilted down on the driver’s side. Kat peered through the side window. She was perched precariously against the guardrail. One more hit and she’d be over the edge in a 300-foot freefall to the bottom of the canyon.
She braced herself for another hit as her stomach churned.
Nothing.
Kat loosened the seat belt and listened. She slid over to the passenger side. The truck creaked and the apple rolled to the far corner of the floor.
Silence.
The truck had stalled from the impact.
She searched for the snowplow through the cracked windshield.
She saw nothing.
Nothing at all. Just white snow, falling.
Muffled silence.
She turned around in her seat and searched for the plow out the rear window.
Gone.
Nothing but her, the truck, and a bent guardrail holding her back from a plunge off the rocky cliff.
She inched her body back into a forward position slowly, feeling the truck settle against the guardrail metal.
Solid. Despite her earlier fears, the truck’s four wheels still rested on the highway.
She felt relieved and scared at the same time. Had the plow driven off—or gone over the edge? She peered out the window again. The guardrail was still intact, at least on the section within her field of vision. She wasn’t about to get out to inspect further. In case it shifted the balance of weight. In case that guy was still around.
She turned the ignition and restarted the truck. She slowly maneuvered the truck, inching backwards and forwards until she had disengaged from the guardrail. She steered the truck away from the edge and around so she now faced the right side of the road.
Kat drove a few miles up the road and pulled over onto a logging road, empty and unused in winter. Her hands still shook as she released the steering wheel. She took a deep breath and instinctively grabbed her cell phone and dialed. Without thinking, she realized she had called Jace. She was about to disconnect when a woman answered.
“Yeah?”
Kat tried to place the background noise. Loud, like machinery operating. It could be anywhere—a manufacturing plant, a construction site. Where exactly she couldn’t tell.
“Who is this?” But the woman disconnected as soon as Kat spoke. The voice sounded familiar, yet she wasn’t sure why. It was hard to tell with all the noise. A busy place somewhere, like an airport or a shopping mall.
All her other calls to Jace had gone directly to his voicemail. Had she dialed wrong? Impossible, since his number was programmed into her phone. Who was using his phone and why? Was it someone involved in his disappearance, or just someone who had found his phone?
At any rate, she couldn’t stay here in the middle of the road. She debated going back to town. She should report the snowplow driver to the RCMP. On the other hand, the police had done absolutely nothing about Jace, so it was another waste of time. It also delayed her search for him.
What if the snowplow waited on the road ahead, looking for more trouble? Unlikely, she thought. Anyone that impatient wouldn’t stick around. He was probably inflicting his road rage on the next vehicle, if there was one.
In the end she decided to continue driving. The resort was only minutes away now, and once there she would be safe from the crazy driver. She’d report him to police tomorrow. After she searched the Pinnacle Trail and Kurt’s cabin. By then she might have found Jace.
Kat pulled away from the shoulder slowly, looking for evidence of the plow. But the snow had already obliterated any tire tracks. Already the road ahead appeared as though it hadn’t been plowed for several hours. But hadn’t the driver had his plow down? She couldn’t remember.
One thing was certain: she’d feel safer once she was off the road. Daylight was already ebbing, leaving her little time to reach the Summit trailhead for the hike to Kurt’s cabin. At least in the wilderness you knew who your enemies were.