Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,67
the huge outcropping of granite.
They walked next to it for half an hour, then another vast snow-covered expanse opened before them.
“This is Seven Boulder Meadow,” Grace announced.
Dean paused. “You’re sure this time?”
She smirked. “You want to go first?”
Dean stared out at the even layer of snow. It could be a meadow. Or another lake.
Before he could answer, Grace started across.
She pulled out an ice axe and every few feet pushed down on the ground in front of her. “Solid!” she announced. “It’s the meadow.”
Dean crossed it with her. At the far side, he saw the rockslide.
“This is it?” he asked.
“Yep. Ready to climb?”
“Let’s go.”
Grace started up the boulders. Some of them were as big as a VW Beetle, others as small as Dean’s boot. It was a tough scramble at times, the rocks icy in patches. Obscured by snow, crevices kept fouling them up, catching their boots. But they made fast progress, gaining altitude by the minute.
Eventually they reached the top of the slide. The head of it lay in a narrow valley. Parting clouds let Dean see steep, open mountain slopes.
He spotted something that made his heart sing. It was a slalom marker. He walked to it. Farther up on the slope, he saw another one.
“This is it!”
Dean resisted the urge to shout, afraid he’d send an avalanche down on their heads.
“We made it!” Grace agreed. They hugged. “I recognize this section. We need to head northeast to get to the lodge.”
A lodge meant hot beverages, food, beer, and electricity. Dean’s spirit lifted. He’d be able to call Sam and Bobby. Maybe they would have heard from Jason, too. At that moment, finally knowing exactly where they were, and with the promise of warmth and shelter, anything felt possible.
Dean hiked beside Grace, gazing up at the mountain whenever the clouds allowed him a view. It really was gorgeous up there.
They crossed through a section of trees, and when they came out, Dean saw the glorious sight of a ski lift sweeping up into the clouds. They walked on, passing a large metal pylon that supported the lift, then angled across and downward through the next section of trees. When they emerged, Dean had to fight back another shout of triumph when he spotted the ski lodge. A building of grey stone with large, scenic windows, it loomed up out of the snowy haze. Smoke curled from a massive chimney. Dean could already picture the crackling flames, the radiating warmth.
“How are your feet?” he asked Grace.
“They feel like dancing.”
They reached the patio, with picnic benches and a few closed up food vendors’ carts. Racks for storing skis lined the area. They passed through a small outdoor alcove with lockers, and found the back entrance for the lodge. Huge floor-to-ceiling two-story windows faced out onto the mountain. A pair of double doors stood closed. When Dean tried them, they were locked.
Grace pounded on the glass. They waited. Someone had to be in there if the fire was going. At least Dean hoped someone was in there. If not, hell, he’d just break in.
A few minutes later, a small, red-faced, portly man sporting a brown mustache came hurrying up. He unlocked the door, ushering them in. “What the hell were you folks doing out there?” he demanded. “The mountain’s been evacuated. You could have been killed!”
Grace, still wearing Dean’s clothes, flashed her badge as identification. “Grace Cumberlin. US Forest Service. I was escorting this hiker off the mountain when we got stuck in the blizzard.”
The man’s face softened a little. “I’m Don Charbonneau, the mountain manager here.” He shut and locked the door behind him as he spoke. “Well, we can’t get you down now. One of the avalanches took out a huge section of the road. Going to be days before that gets cleared. Come in and warm yourselves. It’s just a skeleton crew left up here, along with the avalanche control team.”
Grace looked over her shoulder. “Where are they now?”
“Gearing up. They’re going to the top of the mountain to throw some hand charges. If that doesn’t work, we’re bringing out the howitzer.”
“You guys have a howitzer?” Dean asked, incredulous.
“Hell yes, we do. But we have to have a Forest Service snow ranger fire it, and we’re still waiting for him to show up.”
Grace shifted uncomfortably. “I really need to get into some dry boots. You got anything?”
“Sure. Down in the equipment room under us. Just go down those crew stairs there,” Don said, pointing to a wooden door marked