Chapter 32: In Just Moments
Private Ice is Best Viewed in Firefox.
Aleksei slammed his food down on the brake pedal, felt the pounding pulse beneath his foot as the anti-lock braking system kicked in, barely slowing them as they slid headlong toward the looming snowplow. His gloved hands held the steering wheel steady, his mind racing through scenarios of escape, dismissing them one by one. With the snowplow taking up the entire road, there was no escape, towering mountain on their right, and a guardrail and very long fall to their left. Neither choice did much for him. He could hear Jordan's harsh breathing, wishing he could hold her hand and reassure her everything would be fine, but he couldn't. Until it was all over, he couldn't risk diverting his attention from the ever-gaining snowplow. There would be time to comfort her when all this madness was over.
Jordan could only stare in morbid fascination as she watched the snowplow slowly slide ever closer, cutting off every avenue of escape their jeep might consider, knowing the snowplow could flatten them like a bug, probably wouldn't even feel the bump as they slid beneath it's gigantic body. Suddenly she felt as if she was watching the impending accident from somewhere else, somewhere far away. She could hear shallow, labored breathing, the pounding of a heart, faint music, somehow comforting but seemingly out of place in this nightmare. She saw her right hand grip the hand-hold over her head, and felt her nails dig into her palm as she closed her hand around the bar. Dazed, she watched her left hand brace itself against the center console, saw her feet press against the floor-board, preparing for the impact that seemed to only inch toward them. Like one frame of a picture after another; the snowplow's progress was barely discernible visually but its threat loomed dangerously all the same.
Aleksei jerked the steering wheel to the right, he knew they'd never survive a head-on collision against the monster of steel only feet away. The thought that anything was better than being hit head-on flashed through his mind. He heard Jordan's soft gasp of fear as if from far away, could hear the brakes screaming metal against metal as he pushed the brake to the floor-board, gripped the steering wheel and swore to himself he wouldn't let go of it under any circumstances and hung on. With nothing else left to do, he softly called her name, his eyes drifting right, his gaze finding and holding hers, thoughts of everything he wanted to say to her flashing through his mind his mouth refusing to work. A sudden spark lit her emerald eyes, everything he felt in his heart he saw reflected in the depths of her eyes. It's okay, she knows he realized and with the realization, a sweeping calmness stole over him. Her gentle smile was the last thing he saw before their world exploded.
The snowplow closed the final distance and slammed into the jeep. The impact shattered the windshield, the power of the blow throwing Aleksei against the driver's door, despite his seat belt, his head hitting the side window and shattering it, glass exploding into the freezing air and blending like glitter with the dancing snowflakes. Jordan was thrown against the console, flashes of bright light dancing in the blackness assailed her as her ribs slammed against the solid surface; a far away groan. The air bags deployed - yet another explosion in the melee.
The snowplow's motion continued, catapulting the jeep forward, sounds like the staccato of gunfire echoing through the mountains as the tires on the passenger's side flattened, the sudden weight shift tilting the jeep crazily, the passengers inside were tossed to the right. Jordan moaned as her right shoulder made contact with her door, her hand still clenching the bar above her desperately; the one solid thing in her spinning world. The snowplow slid into the jeep a second time, propelling them forward and against the guardrail, a dented, rusted guardian against the long drop down. The jeep came to an abrupt stop, tilted at an angle, balanced on the flattened passenger's side tires against the steel and wood barrier that kept them from sliding down the steep slope into oblivion.
Time moved in slow motion, one millisecond at a time, as the snowplow finally slid to a stop, its back end hitting the tilted jeep at the rear and pushing it through the steel railing. In horror, the dazed snowplow driver watched the jeep leisurely slip over the side of the road, like sliding into a warm pool, and disappear into the swirling whiteness, tumbling helplessly over rocks and trees, it's path through the snow painfully visible. Finally, the battered jeep stopped its descent, upright against a stand of towering pines, their snow laden limbs trembling at the force of the jeep's blow when it came to a rolling halt. Snow gently sifted over the broken vehicle, silent but for the howling wind that raced through the mountains, it's wail mournful.
The snowplow driver sat dazed, unable to believe the tragedy he had just escaped, realizing he could just have easily followed the jeep over the side of the mountain. Clumsily he reached for the microphone on his two-way radio, barely able to hold it in his trembling hands.
"Base, this is Charlie-12, come back. May-day, may-day!" he managed to utter, his voice cracking with emotion.
"This is base, Charlie-12. What's up?" a voice responded.
"Send all emergency units. We've got someone over the side. Mile marker twenty-nine!" he cried, tears starting to run down his cheeks.
"Are you okay, Charlie?" the voice asked in concern.
"They were kids, Margo. They were just kids!"
"Charlie, take a breath and talk to me. What happened?" the dispatcher asked, pushing one intercom button to signal an emergency, and then another to put the transmission out over the loudspeakers.
"I hit black ice...sideways slide...couldn't control the rig. I saw the jeep and couldn't do a damn thing. I pushed it over the side...I watched it slide down the mountain..." he answered faintly, his tone lifeless.
The dispatcher watched the rescue crew scramble, trying to control her own emotions that threatened run wild. "Sit tight, Charlie. Help's on the way. Are you hurt?"
Charlie moved his limbs, legs worked, arms worked, ribs didn't hurt, head was still attached, no scratches. He looked into the rearview mirror, no cuts or bruises that he could see, only his haunted blue eyes looking back.
"Charlie?" the dispatcher called.
"I'm fine - not a God damn scratch! I killed those two kids and I didn't get a GOD DAMN SCRATCH!" he railed, hitting his fists against the massive steering wheel before him.
"Take it easy, Charlie. Help will be there real soon. We'll get 'em out. You'll see, everything's going to be just fine," the dispatcher offered, sending up a prayer to heaven that she would be right.
"How, Margo? How will everything be fine? You didn't see 'em. You didn't see their faces when they slide over that edge. They're just kids, Margo, with their whole lives ahead of 'em!"
"I know, Charlie. You're right - I didn't see them. But we're on the way and we're going to get them out!" Margo insisted.
"I'm going down to see what I can do for 'em," Charlie stated, releasing his seat belt. "I'll get back to you."
"You be careful, Charlie. We don't want to have to be rescuing you, too."
"I'll get back to you," Charlie ended, tossing the microphone to the seat, zipping his jacket and pulling his hat lower over his ears.
As he stepped out of his rig, the wind howled around him, pushing against him as if in punishment, demanding atonement for his error. Cautiously he peered over the side, squinting against the snow that struck his face like tiny needles, each sharp prick reminding him of how much more fortunate he was than the crumpled vehicle so many feet below him. Tears stung his eyes, freezing before they fell. Closing his eyes to block the wind, he found new pain as the vision of two faces, frozen in bewilderment, and then fear, flashed before his mind's eye with a force that dropped him to his knees. Blindly he opened his eyes, again squinting to see through the swirling blizzard in the hopes of finding the wreckage below him. "Help's on the way. You two stay put and we'll get you out real soon!" he yelled, his hands around his mouth as he sought to be heard above the wind.
For a brief moment, the wind stopped blowing. The snowflakes twirled gracefully to the ground. A sound caught his attention, making him turn his head from side to side as he sought its source. From far below him, Celine Dion's and Andrea Boccelli's voices blended in sheer beauty and power as they sang The Prayer. Charlie shook his head in wonder and disbelief. Of all the songs in the entire world, the fact it was this one, which drifted through the sudden peacefulness, had to be an omen. Charlie only hoped it was one of good.
Text Copyright © 2000 by Constance E. Moynihan
