20

A Brilliant Turquoise Death Trap

Lilly stared down the steep slope, a silent scream clogging her throat.

Emily and Strudel plunged out of reach.

She put a hand over her heart, ran in a little circle looking for some brilliant child and dog retrieval apparatus, gasped out a squeaky scream, and then noticed her own coat lying by her feet. Before her brain had a chance to properly engage, Lilly snatched up the coat, threw it down behind her, and plopped her derriere upon the makeshift sled.

Tristian’s shout of horror awakened Lilly to the reality of her situation. What am I thinking? I’m not thinking! Not at all. I always think. Why brain? Why fail me now, at this vitally important juncture? She gripped the edges of her coat and dug her heels into the icy glacier. Snow sprayed up in an arch, splatting across her face. Instead of slowing her, the pressure from her heels whipped her around backwards and seemed to actually increase her speed. Lilly flew down the glacier, blind and backwards and completely out of control.

As she picked up speed, the coat beneath her made a tortured humming squeal and the icy wind yanked through her hair throwing it over her eyes in a twisting snarl. The slope was not completely smooth and small dips and bumps flung her about. Each time she clutched at the coat, half hoping that she might stop, but also realizing that such a stop would mean a terrible bone-snapping crash that she was loathe to experience firsthand.

I should fling myself onto the snow, stopping my descent. Lilly couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, her mind brought up horrible images of scraping and tumbling, snapping bones and a punctured lung, snow burns slashing across her face and body, and perhaps even breaking off one of her front teeth in an unsightly manner. Oh, this was going to hurt.

What if there were rocks? As that thought paraded its way through her mind, a particularly large dip flung Lilly into the air as though she were a hapless skier attempting her first jump. She landed hard, the air whooshed from her lungs and her fingers loosened their death-grip. The coat wobbled. Despite the bone-rattling landing, she landed coat first and although her tailbone ached and her rear was uncommonly sore, she zipped on.

As she raced backwards down the mountain, ice soaked her back, apparently accumulated from all the spraying snow that her rapid descent had flung upon her. Lilly finally flipped her mess of hair out of her eyes and caught a glimpse of Tristian glacading after them using his ice ax to steer. Would he catch them in time?

Another bump flung Lilly around. She landed facing forward and instantly wished she were still blind. Their impending peril approached at incredible speed and in the form of a glorious turquoise lake. Lilly hadn’t realized lakes came in such a brilliant greenish blue. Perhaps this was evidence of the glacial flour she had heard about on the podcast she’d downloaded in a desperate attempt to educate herself about all things wilderness during the drive to the trailhead. The glacier’s slowly shifting ice ground the rock into a fine powder that colored the waters a fine aqua hue. The sight had an unearthly beauty and normally she would have whipped out her camera and snapped ten million stunning photos. Instead she gasped out a cry of dismay and slammed her eyes shut.

A narrow strip of glacier twisted all the way down to the water. One of two things would befall Emily and Strudel, and Lilly herself, in the very near future. Either they would skid off the snow and crash to a stop on the rocky soil of the mountainside or they would continue down that thin bit of ice and plunge headlong into the glacier-fed lake.

“Strudel can’t swim.” Lilly gasped out to no one in particular. At least she had never seen him swim. She wasn’t in a habit of tossing him into rivers and deep bathtubs to fend for himself either. Lilly clutched the coat tighter even though the ice that hurtled beneath cut her fingers until they bled. She glanced at the rocky ground. Then again, she hadn’t exactly made a habit of throwing her small dog at rocky bits of landscaping from a moving vehicle either. Neither option seemed ideal. What had been wrong with spending the long weekend on the couch with a cup of mint cocoa and a nice pie chart, again?

Lilly refused to blink lest she miss the terrible events as they unfolded.

Emily was doing a great job of both clinging to her coat and Strudel. Maybe the girl could swim. Yes, the lake was better than the rocks. Even if Emily couldn’t swim they could save her. At least, Tristian could save her.

Emily gave a sudden shriek.

Lilly’s heart squeezed to a stop and then started up again, much too quickly.

The girl and the dog launched into the air for a moment and then plunged down into the icy loveliness of the alpine lake.

A surge of joy rushed through Lilly for the briefest moment.

And then the snow ran out.

Lilly launched over a small dip, achieving a brief moment of actual flight before gravity snatched hold once more. She dropped with a downward lurch and hit the water, hard. Lilly skidded across the icy water, bouncing a few times on the surface before she sank beneath the gorgeous turquoise waves. She screamed and icy liquid filled her mouth. Cold and choking and heavy, the lake surrounded her. Lilly let go of her coat and thrashed and flopped and gasped. Where was the air? Where was Emily and her dog and the air!

Why hadn’t she braved swim lessons at the Y when she’d had the chance so many years before? Lilly thrashed with greater intensity and caught a glimpse of something purple. She wrapped her arms around Emily’s middle and heaved up. Perhaps she could save the girl before succumbing to the icy waves herself.

Someone shrieked and splashed down beside her…laughing? That same someone patted her on the head and tugged on her arm. After a moment, Emily’s face appeared underwater beside her. The girl blinked her eyes under the water, as though adjusting herself to the frigid liquid. Then she smiled and pointed up. What? Another tug and Lilly finally understood. She slid her feet beneath her and stood.

Ah yes, they had skidded across the water a fair distance, thus softening their sudden stop. But the water was quite shallow, not requiring swimming from anyone except…Strudel!

Lilly stared at Emily. She was smiling, unhurt. But where was Strudel?

Lilly spun in the water. A black and white rat floated on the lake near her shoulder. No, not a rat. A dog. A very wet, very limp little dog. She dove for him but Emily snatched him up first.

“Oh, Miss Park. I think he hit his head. On that last bump I felt this terrible crack against my chin. I…I killed your doggy!” With that declaration Emily burst into tears, flung Strudel into Lilly’s arms and plunged into the lake swimming like a very upset, but speedy and determined, mermaid for the far shore.

Lilly stared at the dog in her arms. His little ribcage rose and fell in a slow steady rhythm. A splash behind her made Lilly jump. When Tristian appeared at her shoulder, she gulped down the lump in her throat and set the little dog gently in his arms. Lilly sloshed to the shore, alone. Tristian would care for her poor Strudel. But Lilly had to find Emily. If the indifference of a ridiculous boy had brought the girl so much trauma earlier, an imagined homicide would crush her.