Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,59

up there, as will members of the ski patrol.”

Dean looked back at the map. The lines of contour appeared tiny and simple on the paper, but he knew from his trek yesterday that walking six miles in thigh-deep snow would be exhausting and take a ridiculously long time. Trying to do that with an injured leg, like Jason, would be nearly impossible. He worried the hunter might not have made it out alive, even without the aswang hunting them.

Heading to the resort was their best bet. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay.” Grace folded up the map and stowed it back in her bag, then started to suit up again.

“I’m going to look for an outbuilding with supplies.”

“I saw one when I was out there trying to get my bearings. Head around back.”

Dean slung on his coat and left the cabin. A few feet from the door, he sank up to his waist. Each step was an effort, as he had to extract his legs and swing them over the top of the snow. Fifty feet behind the cabin stood a small shed. Dean hadn’t seen it at all in the whiteout the day before. He pushed through the white powder and reached the door. Thankfully it swung inward, or he’d have to shovel the whole thing out. He lifted the latch and pushed it open. Inside were two inner tubes, an old-fashioned sled, four pairs of cross-country skis with poles, and four pairs of snowshoes. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. Six miles would have been hell without snowshoes. This was starting to look possible.

He grabbed the pair that were about the right length for his height and sat down on the dusty floor of the shed next to the sled. Quickly he lashed the snowshoes on, grateful he’d found them.

While he sat there, he unloaded his rifle and .45. Carefully he dipped each bullet in the spice concoction. Since it had made the aswang’s skin bubble, maybe he’d be able to get some inside the creature this way. He reloaded the anointed ammunition back into the guns, and put the extras into his parka pocket.

When he left the shed, he stepped up into the mound of snow, finding the going infinitely easier. He walked along the surface, sinking just slightly into the soft, powdery snow.

He gazed around him. Smoke curled from the cabin’s chimney. Above the roof, mist gathered, creeping slowly through the forest. He looked up in the direction of the slope where Grace had seen the avalanche. He couldn’t see anything but clouds there, obscuring the peaks.

A wind kicked up, swirling snow in front of him and blinding him for a second. Then it whirled away, and suddenly he could see the whole extent of the mountain slope above them.

Dean had never seen a swath cut by an avalanche before, but now he found himself staring at the raw power of nature. A staggeringly huge mass of disturbed snow wound down the entire mountain, splintered tree trunks sticking out at odd angles. It had cut a track for itself hundreds of feet wide.

He understood what Grace had tried to explain; only a small patch of protective forest stood between the cabin and the massive destruction of the avalanche. That tiny patch of trees would not survive the next big rumble of snow.

They had to get out of there now.

THIRTY-SIX

Grateful for his snowshoes, Bobby trekked through the powder with Sam walking beside him. At first they had walked single file, taking turns in the lead, but the wind was so powerful that the person behind could never hear the person in front unless they stopped and turned around.

Every twenty minutes or so, Bobby pulled out the map and compass and checked their location. Not only were they hiking into an unknown area, but the snow fell so intensely beneath such a low cloud cover that he wasn’t able to check for landmarks. The battery-operated device that he’d sneered at before had now come in handy more times than he could count. He stopped, pulling out the GPS unit from the warmth of his pocket and powering it on.

He waited while it found their location, then waited another thirty seconds while it averaged readings, making the outcome more accurate. He checked the map against the coordinates. They were on the right track, thankfully. To save time, they were trailblazing, not sticking to any known route. It had seemed like a good idea at first, but now Bobby would have welcomed