#tarron

The course, again, was lined by trees, though their birth around the perimeter was much wider. It still felt secluded, but left Krel feeling like he had a lot of room to explore.

After a few minutes of descent, the course took a sudden steep drop, with a short ramp some few metres after. Avoidable, if necessary, but not something Krel worried about hitting.

Aligning himself with the ramp, he picked up speed then zipped into the air with some pretty impressive hang time, if he said so himself.

He landed the jump with relative ease, but had to swerve as soon as he landed to avoid colliding with a snow-covered boulder.

“Too close,” he said once he’d cleared it, letting out a small sigh of relief. When he looked back, wondering why on earth there was a course with that kind of monstrosity lying in wait, he noticed the snow surrounding the boulder seemed to be covered in large splinters of something.

He quickly felt the rush of accomplishment and threw his hands up victoriously, knowing he had bested an obstacle that might have claimed many. He raised his arms to shout in delight, but stopped himself when something up ahead caught his eye.

Someone was limping through the snow. Each time they lifted their left foot, Krel noticed the ski on that side was much shorter. He wondered if those splinters surrounding the boulder had anything to do with it.

Painfully aware of how fragile humans were, Krel felt compelled to check on this particular one in need. He slowed to a stop beside them then pulled down his mask to talk.

“Are you alright?” he asked, then caught the way they seemed to freeze up at his intervention. Perhaps they did not want helping.

He started to turn, readying himself to set off, but the person lifted their goggles and lowered their mask.

“I crashed. Think I twisted my knee.”

The airy, embarrassed laugh caught him off-guard, but no more so than the fact he recognised the face it came from.

“Tiësto Girl…? Great Gaylen, this planet really is small.”

She looked confused for a second, then realisation dawned on her.

“The guy from the lobby.”

“You remember me.” Krel said in delight. Then he pondered her earlier statement. “Will your knee untwist?”

A short pause followed. Unbeknownst to Krel, it was while the girl debated whether he was trying to make a joke or not.

“Well. Yes. Sort of? Um. You couldn’t do me a favour?”

He cocked an eyebrow curiously.

“I assure you I probably could.”

Another pause.

“Um… okay. Anyway. Can you go on ahead and radio for assistance?”

Krel blinked. He wondered if that sentence was supposed to make sense to him. He was, of course, willing to help, but where was he heading to and who was he calling?

“Uhh…”

“There’s an emergency shack every quarter mile. Didn’t you read the safety pack at the lodge?”

Krel had not planned to leave the comfort of his room today. Reading a human safety manual had not been up there on his priority list.

That being said, he didn’t want to look like a fool.

“Got it.” He lied. He turned to go, but paused a moment to double-check on her. “Will you be alright?”

She nodded.

“I’ll manage. Hopefully the rescue team’ll show up before I get there. Thanks, by the way. Four people passed by me before you stopped to help. Either they didn’t see me, or ignored me.”

This girl was in a neon pink-and-yellow puffer-jacket. Krel couldn’t imagine anyone was blind enough to miss her.

Feeling compelled to be of use, Krel set off down the mountain in search of this so-called shack. He wasn’t entirely sure what a shack was, but was sure he would know once he saw it.

Sure enough, as he zipped down the snowy mountain, it wasn’t long before he came across a small, log house just off to the side of the ski course. Judging by the antenna poking up from its roof, this was the place because there was a radio inside.

Krel slid to a halt at the edge of the track, then pulled himself from the groomed snow and onto rougher, uneven terrain, with his sticks. After a few wobbly manoeuvres, he discovered it was easier – although by no means easy—to walk his way to the cabin, lifting his skis in large, unbalanced steps.

Once he was at the front door, he unclasped his ski boots then went inside, propping his skis and sticks up just inside the door. The room inside was small, but seemed fit for purpose. There was a desk, a chair, a worn-out bed, some cupboards, and a hearth that looked like it hadn’t seen the flicker of a fire in a long time. Most importantly, though, was the radio sitting atop the desk.

“Excellent.” Krel said triumphantly, then studied the device for a moment, chuckling at such a primitive piece of technology. Still, he supposed it could do the job in a pinch.

Removing his goggles, his mask, and his hat, Krel sat himself in the chair then put the radio headphones over his ears and reached for the mic. Thankfully when it came to technology, he was very good at figuring out how to use new equipment on the first try. He pressed a button on the mic’s base then leaned in to speak.

“…Hello?”

He released the button and waited. He was about to try again when a crackly, static voice replied through the radio’s speaker.

“Reading you Cabin Twelve. This is Base Camp. How can we help? Over.”

“Ah- right. Yes. This is, presumably, Cabin Twelve. A girl is on her way and requires you to untwist her knee.”

The pause before the reply was unhelpful.

“…Do you need a rescue team? Over.”

“Yes. She wants to meet you at the cabin. She…”

Krel’s words tapered off as the cabin became bathed in a murky, grey light. He looked up from the radio, only to see that heavy snow had started to fall outside. His finger remained pressed on the communication button as surprise hit him. When he remembered to remove it, the reply through the speaker was mostly scatchy static with a few disjointed words.

“… wait… she… don’t…”

Krel frowned. Human technology at its finest, again. A little bit of bad weather and everything came to a standstill. Although, he had to admit as he listen to the sudden wind whipping against the side of the shack, this change in weather was particularly unexpected.

He spoke into the microphone as his view of outside became increasingly blurred by snowflakes.

“I recommend you hurry.”

As Krel continued watching the snow growing heavier, he suddenly saw a neon pink blob appear in the hazy distance beyond the window. Rushing to his feet, he only thought to throw on his skiing goggles before heading out to help the girl towards the cabin. He was very aware that unlike him, her body was susceptible to the cold and that the ever strengthening wind would only make things worse, especially when she could only walk as fast as her bad leg and broken ski.

As his feet came into contact with the snow, he sank down a little with each step he took. It stalled him slightly, but he managed to greet the girl just as she came off the course, onto the bumpier, ungroomed terrain.

“Base camp should be on their way.” He said in greeting, though found he had to shout to hear his own voice over the wind.

“What?” She shouted back.

Realising that talking was futile, Krel chose instead to take her arm and hook it over his shoulder to support her as she pushed her skis towards the shack. Thankfully, though he was in his human form, his strength was still that of an Akiridion. Even at her slow pace, it wouldn’t be long before they were both out of the bad weather.

As the wind and snow whipped up around them, the girl leaned herself towards him, her voice coming through as a dampened shout,

“Where did this blizzard come from?”

Truthfully, he did not know either. Earth weather was unpredictable at the best of times, but this seemed excessive.

As they made their way closer to the cabin, Krel suddenly heard a crackling sound that drew his attention. It was a fizzle in the air, like static. The hairs rose up along his exposed neck. He instinctively looked back towards the mountain, only to witness a bright flash of lighting, followed by a thunderous boom that rattled the trees and caused both of them to stumble. Krel’s eyes grew wide.

“What was that?” Asked the girl, regaining her footing after cursing like a sailor from the pain of putting pressure on her bad leg. But Krel did not hear her. Not because of the wind. But because every fiber of his being was now focused on watching the powdered snow picking up speed as it raced towards them down the mountainside.

Krel didn’t need to know what an avalanche was to know that anything hurtling towards him at that speed and ferocity was not something he wanted to be caught by.

He turned and began dragging the girl by her shoulders, forcing her past any speed that could be comfortable in an effort to get her to safety.

“Go, go, go, go!”

He shouted over the storm, unable to keep his gaze in one direction when he needed to look at both the distance to the shack, and the ever-gaining maelstrom behind them. It was so much harder to walk as the earth trembled, as the avalanche gained footing. He felt the pressure shifting. They were only meters from the shack but he knew they wouldn’t make it. Everything around them quaked as the rumbling turned thunderous, then the path ahead turned dark as the avalanche’s shadow overtook them.

Knowing he had no other option, Krel used all his Akiridion strength to push the girl the last distance towards the cabin with a forceful jolt, then turned and brandished his serrator.

“Run!”

He unleashed a shield, giving her just long enough to get to her feet and wrench the cabin door open, before the overwhelming pressure of the snowy landslide knocked his serrator from his grip, leaving him defenceless. The girl turned just in time to see him disappear beneath the avalanche’s onslaught before she had to force the door closed to save herself.

What followed was a few agonising minutes of pain, stress and screaming as she backed up and pressed her whole body against the door, begging it to hold as the entire cabin groaned and creaked under the pressure.  She begged it to hold. She begged it. Snow sputtered down the chimney, telling her that the shack was being submerged. She held still, hissing and cursing with even her bad leg jammed tight against the door.

Then, finally, the creaking subsided for the most part. Everything turned still. She listened. She couldn’t hear the avalanche, or even the wind. With her heart hammering in her ears, she pulled away from the door slowly, then when it did not cave in, she turned and wrenched it wide. Only a wall of powder-white snow greeted her.

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