And react to this change in program in a way that Shaun would expect. I couldn't let him know I'd hoped for this, that I had a secret plan.
"We have to go back!" I said. "I'll get you off the mountain, but first we have to get Korbie. We ate the last of the food. If the pipes freeze, she'll run out of water. It could take days for someone to find her. We have to go back."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Shaun drag his gun from the pocket of his parka. His expression was uncaring. "The faster you get us out of the mountains, the more time you'll have to come back and save your friend."
I looked him head on, even though he frightened me. My stomach curled as I recalled wanting to kiss him. I'd never been so wrong about a person in my life. A warm, sour taste rose in my throat. I'd been so desperate for attention, to prove something to Korbie, I'd actually fallen for this monster's act.
Now I was beginning to see the situation with true clarity. Shaun believed he'd left Korbie for dead. And he felt no remorse. Once I helped him and Mason off the mountain, there was nothing stopping him from dealing me the same fate. I'd saved Korbie, but there was no guarantee on my own life.
I bent sideways and emptied my stomach.
"Leave her alone,” Mason told Shaun. "You're making it worse. We need her focused."
Mason kicked snow over my mess, and handed me a wad of toilet paper from his coat pocket. When I didn't take it right away, he gently wiped my mouth dry.
When he spoke, I expected his voice to sound curt, but instead his words were underscored with weariness. "Take a minute to pull yourself together, Britt. Then get us to the highway."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Calvin Versteeg was my first crush. I set my sights on him at the tender age of eight, but my love for him was sealed on his tenth birthday. I remembered that magical, woozy feeling of knowing with certainty that he was the one.
Even though Calvin was two years older than me, he was only one grade level ahead. He had an August birthday, and his parents had held him back a year before kindergarten to give him an extra year of growth and a better shot at excelling in sports. It was a good move. By sophomore year, Calvin had earned a spot on the boys' varsity basketball team. Junior year, his name was on the starting roster.
We drove to Jackson Lake in the Versteegs' Suburban. Calvin and his two friends called dibs on the back row. Korbie and I were stuck in the middle row, closest to her parents. Every time we turned around to eavesdrop on Calvin and his friends, he would grab our heads and knock them together.
"Mom!" Korbie howled. "Calvin's hurting us!"
Mrs. Versteeg looked over her shoulder. "Leave your brother alone. Talk to Britt, or play with your My Little Ponies. They're in the case under your seat."
"Yeah,” Calvin snickered under his breath. "Play with your ponies. I bet they have a surprise for you."
Korbie snatched up the case and flung it open on her lap. "Moooom!" She screeched so loud it made my eardrums vibrate. "Calvin cut off my ponies' hair!" She flipped around in her seat, color flooding her cheeks. "I'm gonna kill you!"
"What's the big deal?" Calvin said, grinning devilishly. "Mom will buy you new ones."
I remembered thinking Calvin was the meanest big brother ever. Worse than my brother, Ian, who hid in my closet, then jumped out and yelled "Boo!" after I turned out the light. Being scared was a lot better than having bald My Little Ponies.
Of course, Calvin made up for it halfway through the day. After spending the afternoon water skiing, he and his friends caught frogs by the lake, and Calvin let me name his frog. Even though I picked a stupid name-Smoochie-Calvin let it stick.
Later that night, when we were lined up to use the bathroom before the long drive home, I whispered in Calvin's ear, "You're not so bad."
He tweaked my nose. "Don't you forget it."
As we piled into the Suburban, nobody called dibs on seats.We were too tired. Somehow, I ended up sitting next to Calvin. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He didn't nudge me away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"You sure we're going the right way?"
Careful not to be seen, I folded Calvin's map along the worn seams and tucked it down my neckline and into my bra. I shut my eyes briefly, blocking out the distraction of Shaun's voice carrying through the trees as I committed the scribbled notes and topography to memory. The farther we hiked, and the more landmarks we passed, the more certain I was that I knew where we were.
Zipping up my jeans, I stepped out from behind the pine tree that had served as my privacy screen, and answered stoically, "You tell me. You've got the compasses. Are we heading south?"
"The scenery isn't changing any,” Shaun complained, flicking open his compass to make sure he'd kept us on course. "It doesn't seem like we're getting anywhere."
He was right. We'd been traveling for hours, but it was all about perspective. On Calvin's map, we'd hardly eaten up a few millimeters. "I thought the highway was southeast of the cabin,” Mason said, frowning slightly.
A tremor of fear shot through me, but I pulled on an unflustered face. "It is. But we have to skirt a small lake. we'll turn east once we're around it. I thought you didn't know the area."
"I don't,” he answered slowly. "But I glanced over a map at the gas station yesterday." His frown deepened, a look of concentration and recall shadowing his expression. "I could be remembering wrong."
"Well, which way is it?" Shaun snapped. "One of you is right.”
”I'm right,” I said confidently.
"Ace?" Shaun prompted.
Mason rubbed his jaw in a thoughtful, considering way, but said nothing more. A whole minute must have passed before I was able to breathe easy. Because Mason was right. The fastest way to get to the highway was to travel southeast. But now that I knew where we were, I wasn't taking them to the highway. According to Calvin's map, if we shifted our course due south, we'd run into a ranger patrol cabin.
Based on my calculations, we'd be there before sunup.
The moon had been out most of the night, but shortly before dawn, a new embankment of clouds rolled in, leaving us once again in that indescribable shade of wilderness black. The wind had picked up again too, whipping through the trees and chafing our faces.
We resorted to headlamps, even though Mason had made it clear we needed to conserve the batteries. The package instructions said each headlamp had only a three-hour life span.
My back ached from the weight of my pack. My legs, stiff with cold, moved over the snow in shorter and slower strides. Except for a brief nap at the cabin, I hadn't slept in almost twenty-four hours. My vision slid in and out of focus as I tried to concentrate on the monotonous carpet of crystalline white extending in every direction. I fantasized what it would feel like to lie in the snow, shut my eyes, and dream myself somewhere else, anywhere else.