Lift Mechanics

It’s hard to move fast through the snow. I hit the edge of the trail and slide down, landing in snowdrifts up to my thighs. Wind howls through the trees, carrying snow spray and bitter cold, and I blink my eyes hard. Just a bit further. I can’t leave until I have it; the mountain won’t let me go. I move faster, half to get out of here and half to keep the cold at bay. It’s already made its way through my layers, crawled in through my soaked snow pants and wet gloves.

I kneel at the base of the tower and root through the snow. Piles of it, glittering in the moonlight, pouring through my fingers like water. At last, I find it. Solid, silver metal. Heavy enough to use as a weapon and exactly what I need to get off the mountain. The key to my escape. I force my frozen fingers around the handle and turn back the way I came, following my own footprints, scramble back up the hill. An engine grumbles just ahead. I run toward it, brandishing the chunk of metal.

“You found it!” Angelo cries from where he sits astride the thrumming snowmobile. He holds out his hand and I let him pull me up onto the seat. “I’ll never drop my tools off the tower again, I swear.”

“You owe me, buddy.” I settle in behind him and cradle the cable jack in my arms. “Come on, time to go home.”