Brandon knew that it would have to be him; he nodded his head and sighed. "I guess it will have to be me." He couldn't help but notice the relief that washed over her. I'm a sacrificial lamb, he thought to himself.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Matt asked anxiously.

"The food?" Brandon asked. "Not too long."

"No," Matt said, shaking his head. "I mean the whole thing, till we get up there."

"Depends on how much we take up and how good you two are at climbing," Brandon replied.

"Us two?" Jack echoed in shock.

"Yeah," Brandon said. "I can't climb with a busted arm."

"Oh," Jack lowered his gaze.

Clare eyed the body of John Wilbur. "What about him?"

"I'm sorry, Clare," Brandon quietly said. "We can't take him."

"But ..." she protested.

"I'm sorry, I know what you're thinking, but we can't possibly take his body."

"But, we're only going up to the road," she said. "Aren't we?"

He looked straight into her eyes. "We may have to make a move, or maybe not; besides, our plan is not to take everything and everyone." He looked at all of them. "Otherwise we'll have to take all of them."

He sombrely looked at the wreckage. "We're not leaving them here forever. We're finding help and bringing it back here," he said.

"But we knew the guy," Matt added quietly.

"Yes, we did," was all Brandon could say. He knew they couldn't afford to lose any more time. They had already wasted two whole days waiting for help which hadn't arrived.

"I guess you're right," Clare finally said, then stood up. "So what are we waiting for? Let's get the hell out of here. Let go find some help."

"That's more like it," Brandon said.

Clare stepped slightly away from him. His oddly cool remark frightened her.

Having sensed the change in her body language, he smiled. "I meant your spirit ... we need it." He turned to Jack. "Let's go check out the contents of those bags."

"So where do we start?" she heard Jack ask as the three hovered above the pile of bags.

"Take one each and see what we find." Brandon's deep voice floated back.

"Need any help?" she asked, approaching. She addressed Brandon. "We'll deal with these, how about you go get that bag you talked about?" Nodding, he turned on his heel and walked away without a word.

As he drew closer to the bus, chills ran down his back. Unease slid down and settled somewhere in his legs. For a moment he hesitated. He could feel three pairs of eyes upon him. "Let's get this over and done with," he whispered, mentally shaking himself in an attempt to thwart the spiders churning up his insides.

As he stepped through the broken windshield, he tried hard not to focus on any of the bodies. His main aim was to scan the bus quickly for the black and red backpack. It was quite cold in the bus, and the splotches of blood seemed like icy jelly clinging to cold surfaces. Careful, don't slip, he chanted to himself. As he slid past the driver's body, his eyes landed on the eye which had tortured Matt on their second night.

He inched forward, carefully placing his feet on the legs of the seats. He scanned every corner. Light fluffy snow slowly drifted down through the window frames above his head.

Brandon felt a sense of calm settling upon him slowly as nothing more in the bus could surprise and shock him anymore. His eyes landed on something quite unexpected, a few bottles of water, although frozen, a welcome surprise. He laughed as he reached down to collect them. His mind raced with a desperate plea that there would be a drop of water he could let slither down his parched throat.

He unscrewed the top of one and tipped the bottle over his mouth. Disappointed, he recapped it and set it aside. A thought suddenly struck him like a punch. Without a second thought, he turned around and; grabbing the bottle he exited the bus as fast as he could.

He landed on the snow-covered ground and sprinted towards the others. He dug through the bags, chucking aside bags until he found what he was looking for, a small black plastic briefcase which he had previously disregarded as junk. He stared at it a moment before flinging it open to reveal a small camping stove.

He cracked a smile of disbelief. He stood up, holding the stove in one hand and the bottle in the other. Without a word, he headed back to the bus, to the job he had yet to finish.

He gently laid the prized possessions down beside the bus and re-entered, this time focused on finding the red and black backpack.

Outside, the others had gathered a few more sleeping bags, a few more jackets, and luckily, one or two blankets. Besides the extra clothing, they had collected a pitiable pile of food, mostly junk.

Matt and Jack had already started repacking a few of the bags with items that they had chosen to take. Jack looked up. "Why don't you go check on him?" he suggested, seeing Clare sneak regular anxious peeks towards the bus.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "He's been in there for quite some time, don't you think?"

"Okay," she reluctantly walked towards the bus.

When Matt figured she was out of earshot, he turned to Jack. "You reckon she likes him?"

Not surprisedJack'sck eyes gleamed. "Depends"

Matt shrugged. "I was just wondering,"

Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you're in trouble, brother, big trouble!"

* * *

As midday passed into late afternoon, Glenda too began to worry. She had just brought the Reeves back to their house to pick ua p few things. She had convinced Helen to stay with her until Paul's whereabouts could be pinpointed. She picked up the phone and quickly dialled Simon's office. Aftea r few rings, Boyd picked up the phone.

"Is Simon in?" she asked flatly.

"Yes, just a moment"

"Yeah, Glenda, I know why you're ringing but at this moment I can't give you much." Simon's voice sounded tired.

"Can you give me anything at all?" she begged.

"Well." She heard her brother hesitate a moment, "I was able to get in touch with the Lodge."

"And?"

"They haven't received any busload of people. The Lodge is actually closed this season until further notice."

"So," Glenda lowered her voice, looking around to see if Helen was anywhere in sight, "Paul never reached the Lodge?"

"Not to my knowledge, no." replied Simon. "Are you sure he was headed to the Lodge?"

"I'm pretty certain it was the lodge. Both Helen and Sam confirm it."

"Sam?" Simon repeated. "Is he back in town yet?"

"No".

Simon was silent. "Then you better hope Paul is just pulled over on the side of the road."

"Can you find them?"

"Oh I'm sure I can, but right now I'm a little short on resources, human and mechanical."

"So?"

She heard him sigh. "I'll see if I can borrow the hospital's chopper to quickly fly up and scan the terrain for any sign of the bus on the road. I'm sorry but that'll be all I can do at the moment, provided I can borrow the chopper."

"Yeah, okay, I'll ring you this evening then?" Glenda asked.

"No, don't bother, I can't promise I'll be in. I'll ring you instead. When Sam returns, let him know that I want to have a word with him."

* * *

Clare was a few meters away from the windscreen of the bus when the driver's dismembered body came into view. Suddenly she felt the urge to run. She closed her eyes as tight as possible, and drew in deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "Shit, shit." she shook her head, trying to get the image out of her mind.

Eyes still shut; she called Brandon's name. She clenched her sweating hands into tight fists.

Brandon was balancing awkwardly on the metal supports beneath the seats, trying to free the backpack when he heard Clare's voice. He jumped, causing him to lose his balance. He slipped on the corpse, his head connecting violently with a beam as he plunged.

Cursing and struggling to find his footing, he felt something dribbling down the side of his face, and wiped away what he thought was perspiration. As he took his hand away from his face, he saw fresh blood staining his grey gloves.

He heard Clare call out again, loudly. He approached the opening and answered as he busied himself, trying to wipe away another drop of blood.

"Did you find the bag?"

"Yeah, but it's wedged beneath a woman's body," he said. His attention was focused on a rumbling which was getting closer. He looked up, half expecting to see a chopper coming into view. However, when he peered up at the mountain face, his mind registered the avalanche hurtling towards them.

Clare turned to see what Brandon's eyes were fixed on. "Oh my God," she whispered, "is that ...is that an..."

"Avalanche" Brandon completed the question for her. "Yes" He looked at the boys, who were also transfixed by tons of snow hurtling down the mountain slope like a giant tsunami, ready to engulf anything and everything that lay in its path.

"Run," he yelled to Clare as he saw Matt beckon them to run towards the cliff face.

He looked at the avalanche closing in on the road, less than thirty feet above the clearing they were standing on. He grabbed Clare's arm, and pulled her, towards the cliff face.

Seconds later, she felt herself tumble, only two feet from safety.

Brandon lost his grip on her arm and realized she had fallen. He pulled her up off the ground, close to his body and pressed his back against the cliff till he could feel its jagged surface dig in through his clothes.

A split second later they watched a wave of snow spray down the cliff, the road above taking the brunt of its force.

"Look at that." Brandon heard Jack's voice filtered through the whooshing air. He was almost screaming. "That's what you get when you forget four amateurs up a mountain." His tone sounded oddly jovial.

Brandon couldn't help but laugh in relief, still holding Clare close. She buried her face on his chest to keep from screaming in terror.

"How many lives have we got?" Matt asked.

"All nine, baby." Jack laughed. "Wahoo!" he screamed, jumping up and throwing a punch in the air.

Clare pushed away from Brandon to watch Jack dance about.

"I wouldn't laugh so much if I were you." Brandon said, staring at the mountain of snow in front of them.

Jack stopped short his celebration to look at it. "That's exactly why we should be celebrating because we're not buried beneath all that."

Brandon sighed. "It'll take us the rest of the day to find all that stuff again."

"Party pooper," Jack retorted, shaking his head.

Matt shot a warning glance at Jack, and moved forward, trudging through the thick snow. "Come on then, let's get to work."

Digging through the snow became a struggle and it seemed as though everything they had gathered had just vanished within the belly of the snow heap.

"Where the hell are they?" Jack straightened up, exhausted. "I'm tired already."

"Keep looking," Matt said. A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead.

Tired, Jack took a few steps back. "I can't do this anymore. I need a break," he said sounding a little breathless.

"You're not getting an attack?" Matt asked.

"No," Jack smiled, "just a little breathless, that's all."

"You have your puffer with you?"

Jack whisked his hands in and out of various pockets. As panic started to set in, it came to him. "I dropped it in the bus," he whispered.

Matt slowly slid his hand into his jacket pocket and felt the plastic canister sitting snugly at the bottom. He grabbed hold of the device and brought it out, extending his hand to Jack, wanting him to just take the thing away from him immediately.

Jack took it out of Matt's hand and put it in a pocket. He stepped back and his left foot hit something beneath the snow. Let it be the bags. He begged silently as he bent down and started scoping snow away.

"Did you find something?" It w from Clare.

"I hope so."

Matt dropped to his knees beside Jack and began plunging his hands into the snow. His hand brushed something black. A bag strap. He pulled at it with all his might, grumbling through the strain on his cold limbs.

"Finally" Jack muttered, helping Matt clear the area.

Once all the bags were dug out, the four collapsed, exhausted.

"It's going to get dark in a couple of hours" Clare whimpered.

Brandon stared at the dark, heavy clouds. A sensation of longing washed over him as he imagined himself for a moment, back home in a cosy bed. He melted into the snow, relaxing his tired muscles. He felt something light and cold falling on his face and he opened his eyes. Snow was falling upon him like an intrusive dream. It landed softly, and though it was weightless, it seemed to weigh him down, pressing him harder against the cold surface. The welcoming white fluff reminded him of home, of cotton flying in the breeze, of cotton candy melting in his mouth. As the warmth of memories flooded his mind, it triggered an ever-expanding void inside. Memories hailed upon him relentlessly. Painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, pushing the floodgate back.

He looked at his hand, and especially at the bit of snow, it held. His mouth watered and he wondered about its taste. He popped the snowflake into his mouth. It disappeared like cotton candy sure enough but left no taste of the freshly whisked sweetness he longed for. His eyes began to moisten and he fought back tears. He had drifted far from home for a long time, but for the first time, he felt he had forgotten his way back. He had run long enough.

He looked at the others, wondering how they were feeling. He could sense the grim reality of their situation dawning on the rest. Matt was staring off into space. Jack flapped his arms and legs as he lay on the snow. Although his actions were carefree and childish, Brandon noticed the emptiness displayed on his face. Clare leaned back on her arms, a tear crawling down her flushed cheeks.

He saw Jack get up and stare down at his creation. He swayed a little. "I always wanted to see if I could make one."

"A snow angel?" Matt stared at the six-foot angel spread out on the snow.

Jack nodded.

Brandon looked at his watch. It was nearly four thirty. "I think we should get moving, or we might end up spending another night down here."

"How are we getting up there?" Clare asked, looking up at the edge of the road.

"Climb".

"Climb?" She stammered in terror.

He nodded "Got any other ideas?"

"I've never... how am I going to be able to climb that?" she shrieked, looking at the thirty-foot wall.

"I hear ya..." Jack said, peering up as well.

"Then we've got a problem, haven't we?" Matt asked rhetorically. With a smile, he got up and lent Clare a hand. She lost her balance and he was forced to fling his arms around her in order to steady her. She looked at him to say thank you and he winked.

"Forget about me for a while. How are you going to get up there with that arm of yours?" she asked Brandon, a faint smile creeping up because of Matt.

"She got you on that one." Jack chuckled.

Brandon turned to Matt instead. "Did you find a rope?"

"Not yet." Matt replied.

"Speaking of which, did you get the food bag?" Jack chimed in.

"No," Brandon shook his head, "I was getting it when she called me. I'll go get it now. Mind lending me a hand, the bag's wedged beneath a body."

After a moment of hesitation, Jack nodded and followed.

Jack stood, feet apart, over the dead woman's body. I'm about to lift a dead body. He took a deep breath and bent down. He anchored his arms underneath the body and hoisted it up to give Brandon enough time to yank the bag out from underneath. As soon as he saw the bag was free, he immediately set the body back.

"I hope I never have to do that again," he shuddered, shaking off cobwebs of fear, and trudged towards the exit as though he couldn't wait to escape the grimness.

"Wait" Brandon called just before Jack's feet landed on the snow. "We need to see if we can find a rope."

"I'm getting the creeps here." Jack moaned as he stepped back into the bus. "Just hurry this shit up".

"See anything?"

"No." Brandon shook his head, disappointed.

The men exited the bus.

"How're we going to get up there on that road without ..." Jack trailed off.

I'll have to try regardless, Brandon thought as he looked over at the bus. "I don't know. If nothing else, then you guys leave and get back here with some help. I don't know."

"We're not going to leave you here!"

"I don't see any other way"

"Well, we'll think of something." Jack sounded defiant. He saw Brandon running back to the bus. He's got something, Jack thought watching Brandon disappear into the luggage hull. He's definitely found something.

He popped his head in through the opening. "You found something?"

Brandon shook his head. "I don't know, maybe." He was pulling at something.

"What you got there?" Jack landed with a thud into the metal compartment.

"It's a steel wire cable. I saw it here before but, I don't know if we can use it"

"Let's see if it's long enough." Jack grabbed it and pushed it up and out of the bus.

By the time Brandon landed on the ground Jack had already started unwinding the cable.

"It's got a hook on one end" Jack was excited, handing one end over to Brandon. Taking the other end, he started walking away. "We can use that to anchor the straps of the bags and pull them up."

"Sounds like a plan."

As they stretched the thin twisted metal wire between them, Jack said, "I'd say it's about forty feet long."

Brandon looked at the cliff face, trying to estimate how tall it could be. "I'd say that's around the same."

"We'll manage".

"What about Clare and me? How do we use it?" Brandon asked.

"We'll think of something. I'm more worried about getting this up there without it being too much of a risk. I mean, it'd be getting heavier after a while, it is metal."

"It's a risk we're going to have to take." Brandon said.

Jack looked at him. "It's a risk either Matt or I have to take."

Brandon nodded. "Yeah"

Matt grabbed the coil of cable and slung it over his shoulder. "We're going to have to walk down the wall a bit to reach a clear patch of the road above. With all the snow from the avalanche right above us, it won't make for a safe landing."

"All right, lead the way." Jack urged as he picked up a bag and stood up, ready to follow.

They walked in silence for a while, Brandon meticulously scanning the side of the cliff. He stopped dead. "This is it; this is the possible route up." He scouted the areas that could provide possible holding and anchoring points for hands and feet. "You boys ever been rock climbing?"

Jack sighed. "Does indoor climbing count?"

"Better than nothing"

"All right then," Matt dropped the cable on the snow. "Show me the possible nooks you see."

As Jack watched the two of them talk over possible ascension routes, fear slowly inched its way into his bones. The way Brandon was talking about rock climbing, it all sounded too technical. And, anything technical could pose difficulties Jack had not yet imagined. A sudden vision flashed into his mind of either Matt or himself plummeting down.

"Sounds a bit risky" Jack's voice sounded low and uneasy.

Brandon thought Jack was about to say more. "It's a risk we might have to take."

"I'll do it," Matt said in a hurry. "I can do it, just give me some time to mentally prepare myself."

"Are you sure about this?" Clare asked.

Matt stood next to her. As he started taking his gloves off, he sounded surer. "Let's just test the degree of difficulty first, shall I?" Without another word, he lunged up onto the wall, his hands clinging to jagged edges as he looked around for a spot to place his feet. About ten feet up, he halted and looked down at the three.

He stared at the remaining twenty feet he had yet to defeat. He looked at his sore red fingers contemplating whether they were capable enough to keep him safe and as close to the rock face as possible, with the added weight of the cable he was planning to take up with him on the next attempt.

"I'm coming down," he called as he began his descent. "I'll try with the cable next."

As he stepped onto the ground, a sensation of safety washed over him and he felt dizzy with uncertainty. Could he really climb the thirty foot, almost vertical slope, without a safety harness, WHILE carrying perhaps more than ten kilograms of weight that would most definitely compromise his balance? He slipped his gloves back on and trudged forward.

As his cold fingers wrapped around the coil, the extent of their numb ache hit him, and he let go as cramp set in. "I might need something to carry it in, like a backpack though," he said.

Brandon picked up the red and black backpack filled with food. He undid the zip and tipped out every last item, then handed the bag to Matt. "Will this do?"

Matt nodded. He put the coil of cable inside and zipped the bag close. He slung it on his back, adjusting the straps so that the bag was as good as glued to him. He then turned to the wall. "Here goes nothing."

They watched, as Matt maneuvered his body up the almost vertical wall. There were moments when their breath lodged in their throats, watching him struggle to get a hold. At one point, Matt's hand slid off the rock and his body swung out and away from the cliff face.

Clare screeched, flinging her hands over her eyes. "I can't watch this."

Brandon held her by the shoulder, his eyes glued on Matt. "Come on, come on, grab that edge" he whispered watching Matt force himself to lunge forward in order to grab a jagged surface. "Just a little more," he cried out as Matt got ready to try one more time. Seeing Matt finally get his sure hold and steady himself, Brandon heaved a sigh of relief. He was less than ten feet from the road now.

Matt, clinging to the wall for dear life, tried quickly to take a couple of comfortable breaths. He looked down when he shouldn't have and sensed a slight degree of vertigo setting in. He realized he had to get up on the road in the next few minutes while he still had control. While he could still hold on. He looked up at the road. So close. So close!

His arms began to ache. The bag on his back was weighing down more every second he spent clinging to that cliff, the extra tension in his limbs already challenging his back to stay strong. "Come on, just a little longer. Hold on a little longer" he whispered to himself as he reached for another edge.

Clare grabbed Brandon's arm. Her hands tightening their grip the longer Matt took.

Matt could feel sweat starting to soak through his innermost pieces of clothing. His cheeks were flushed red from blood gushing through his dilated vessels. He reached up to grab hold of another small shelf of rock sticking out from the wall, determined not to stall any longer. He had his eyes fixed on the edge of the road, perhaps only a few lunges away.

His entire future depended on his tiring arms and eyes which were coordinating his nerve-wracking climb. He knew he only had strength enough to last a few more precious minutes.

"Come on, Matt, only a meter or so to go," Jack yelled encouragingly "you can do it, mate."

Matt madly blinked as his heart slammed inside his ribs. Only two more goes, he thought to himself, fighting the urge to look down at the others, standing safely, watching him.

"Here goes nothing." Matt reached up to grab the edge of the road, finally within his reach. His frozen fingers gripped the loose dirt and snow atop the road tightly. Once he established that his hand would not slip, he let go of the wall with the other hand and quickly flung it over the top. With both his hands steady on the road, he heaved his body up and struggled to bring one leg over the top. Once that was done, the rest was easily executed. When he finally reached the safety of the road, it was as if a ton of weight had lifted, and he lay motionless.

"Woo!" he heard Jack scream. "Well done!"

Matt removed the bag from his back and thrust it away as if repelled by it. A moment to calm his jerky, achy body, and he popped his head over the edge. I climbed that? The thought struck him like a lightning bolt and his strained muscles eased with relief. He cracked a smile. "Who's next?" he asked gleefully.

"I guess that'd me." Jack replied.