Retreat at the Camel Cove Lodge - Part 5

Author's Note: This is the fifth installment in a 10-part murder mystery collaboration of 10 different Vocal creators. You can find the first part, written by ATOMIC HISTORIAN, here: Part 1 And the other preceding parts here: Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 if you would like to read them in order. Stay tuned for the remaining chapters so you can find out how it ends!

Part 5:

Sondra shrieked loud enough to wake the dead and threw herself into Guy’s arms as the whole Lodge started to vibrate. Just as Leland and Mr. Lloyd had predicted, the rumblings snowballed into what was unmistakably a large avalanche seconds away from overtaking the log building.

“Brace yourselves!” Leland shouted, wedging himself into a corner. The corporate guests, not fully understanding the danger they were in, were slower to respond. Martin had frozen and was knocked off his feet when the tsunami of snow washed over the lodge.

In a matter of seconds it was all over, the rumblings decreased quickly as the snow barreled on past the lodge. Fortunately, they had not been directly in its path and the avalanche had struck them only a glancing blow: across the floor was a spray of greyish snow, intermingled with rocks, tree branches and a few shards of glass from decimated windows. The logs of the west-facing wall had been replaced by a solid pack of tight, white snow. Half the lodge lay in an eerie darkness as though they had been buried underground. The opposite side of the building still let in the afternoon’s waning light as though nothing unexpected had happened at all.

Mr. Reggie Lloyd was the first to recover, though he made sure to move more slowly than he was able to. He had to protect his cover as a local hunter, after all. Just another unprepared weekend warrior with no military training and no ulterior motives, he reminded himself.

In the aftermath, there was a moment of perfect silence and then Sondra’s wails started up again. “OOOOOHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOO” she cried, “Was that an avalanche? WERE WE JUST BURIED BY AN AVALANCHE!?!?!! WHHAAAAAAAAAA!!! How are we going to get out of here???? Armand, I CAN’T BELIEVE I LET YOU DRAG ME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE TO THIS *($#&*7&*#2$* PLACE!!!”

Martin Finch must have hit his head when the force of the rocketing snow slammed him into the heavy dining table. Fortunately, the sight of his temple dripping blood all over the floor caused Sondra to faint and the room descended into a stunned but merciful silence.

Soon, Denise took charge: directing Leland to assess the damage to the lodge, Guy to take inventory of the kitchen supplies in case no one could get to them for a while, and Armand and Kevin to carry Sondra into her bedroom until she recovered from the shock of it all. Harpreet disappeared to her own room, not wanting to be assigned a task by someone she considered an underling and also not really wanting to help anyone but herself. If they were going to be stuck here for longer than planned, she wanted to make sure her own affairs were in order and make her own arrangements for getting out. After all, she reasoned, Mr. Lloyd had a firearm and had shown up under suspicious circumstances at what was supposed to be an isolated retreat, Martin was appropriating Company funds for his own purposes, Rosaria was living a secret double life under another name, Sondra had hinted on numerous occasions that she knew the paternity of Harpreet’s children by Armand, not to mention the fact that Kevin had agreed to attend the retreat in spite of his hatred for all other members of the Company and what they stood for. Denise was not to be underestimated either: quiet, polite, efficient, and sneaky. She could not be trusted. In fact, none of them could be trusted.

Harpreet wondered briefly whether the world in which Kalt Analytics moved attracted the kind of unscrupulous people she now found herself trapped with, or if they had once been honourable and had been corrupted by the kind of work they did. Regardless, she knew that having everyone cooped up together in a remote location with supplies dwindling, was a recipe for disaster, possibly a fatal disaster, and she wanted no part of it.

She found her sat phone, hastily sent out an SOS text, and proceeded to toss essential belongings into a small bag. She needed to extricate herself as quickly as possible. She paced distractedly and when she finally received a confirmation text, she quietly left her room and made her way out of the lodge.

*****

Unbeknownst to Harpreet, Kevin, ever watchful of his nemesis, had seen her creep out of the lodge while everyone else was still busy taking stock of their situation and trying to figure out the best course of action. After bundling himself into his sleeping bag jacket, he headed out into the cold after her. That bitch. It would be just like Harpreet to arrange to get herself rescued and leave everyone else behind to die, Kevin thought acerbically. Well, I’m not going to be left behind to freeze or starve to death, to hell with everyone else.

The others had reconvened in front of the fireplace. Denise and Rosaria were administering to Martin’s head wound. Guy had whipped up a late dinner of comfort food. No good problem-solving could happen on an empty stomach. In all the excitement and the relief of finally being able to rest after quite an eventful day, none of the lodge’s inhabitants bothered to note who was inside and who was outside as night descended upon them all. Most drifted to sleep quickly. Guy was unphased by the avalanche damage and felt confident he could keep everyone fed until help arrived. However, he couldn’t help replaying his pantry escapades with Sondra and hoped there might be an opportunity for a repeat performance sometime before the retreat ended. He finally had to distract himself from these naughty thoughts by listening to a partially scratched CD by some band called “Orgaxon and the Nebumorphs” which he had found wedged under a shelf in dry storage.

*****

Large, white, December flakes swirled around search and rescue delegate Brandon Harrison as he climbed down the rope ladder dangling from the helo that had delivered him to the Zone of Death and the Camel Cove Lodge. He landed lightly in the snow and stepped aside to wait for his partner. Ripley’s floppy ears appeared over the side first, then her whole furry body appeared as a cable attached to her harness slowly lowered her to the snow beside Brandon. She greeted him on the ground with a big wet slurp of her tongue as he unclipped her from the helo and attached her 115-foot SAR leash to his own belt. She snuffled the snow at their feet for a moment before shaking herself off. Snow flew up in all directions from 80-pounds of Saint Bernard crossed with Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. She grinned up at Brandon with her big, brown, spaniel eyes as if to say, “ok, we’re here! Let’s get to work finding people!”

The retreat guests who were still inside, exited the lodge to greet the new arrival. Armand and Mr. Lloyd clomped up to the group just as Ripley was being introduced.

“Ripley, as in, believe it or not? She might be here to save us or she might not,” quipped Armand.

“No.” Brandon sighed, “Ripley, as in, Sigourney Weaver’s character from the Alien movies. Look at that face, clearly she’s a badass just like her namesake.” He patted the dog affectionately.

The search for Kevin and Harpreet had been fruitless. In spite of the arrival of rescuers, morale at the retreat was low. Sondra had recovered from her fainting spell of the day before, but had retreated back into the warmth of the lodge as soon as she saw Ripley, mumbling something about allergies. Martin, ever the concerned leader, looked at Armand and Mr. Lloyd with disappointment as they all realized the gravity of the fact that they were still missing two of their number: where were Kevin and Harpreet?

Brandon jumped on the opportunity to help find the two lost retreat-goers. This was, after all, exactly what Ripley was trained to do.

“Just bring down an article of clothing that belongs to them and Ripley and I will do the rest.”

He was relieved to have a real job to do, since clearly the major avalanche had already happened and so far everyone in the area was unscathed. The news of two missing people gave him a renewed sense of purpose and made it slightly more worthwhile that he had been asked to let someone else pick up his daughter, Lucy, from school.

*****

Ripley forged ahead, her wide, pillowy paws supporting her weight on top of the snow as Brandon followed behind on snowshoes. Every so often she paused to sniff at the air or the snow, but in general she seemed to know where she was going. Trailing behind Brandon with varying degrees of proficiency with their own snowshoes were Mr. Lloyd, Martin, Denise, Rosaria, and Armand. None of them had wanted to be left out of the search. Leland stayed behind, claiming his age would only slow them down, while Guy had remained at the lodge to prepare a hot meal for the searchers to have upon their return. Sondra hadn’t bothered to make an excuse, she had simply plunked herself down in front of the fireplace and refused to move.

The snow continued to drift down around the intrepid searchers. Until finally, all of a sudden, Ripley stopped and pointed: one front paw tucked up to her belly, her eyes bright and alert, nose forward, tail stiff at attention. Kevin came into view in front of them. He sat silently bundled up on the snow with his knees tucked to his chest as he tried to keep warm.

“Kevin!” Yelled Martin, struggling to coordinate his snowshoes and get closer to his wayward employee. “Thank goodness!”

The rest of the retreat guests floundered through the remaining distance to Kevin and heaped upon him words of relief, personal and professional admiration, and praise for having survived the night outside. Kevin tried unsuccessfully to pretend that he didn’t like the attention. As a former performer, he loved the spotlight. And loved it even more when it raised him above entitled corporate momos who had no real practical skills and yet believed themselves above the law. Unfortunately for Kevin, the adoration was short-lived as a startled scream interrupted the public display of affection. Denise had found Harpreet.

Armand gagged and had to move away from the others and close his eyes. He tucked his head and sucked in great lungfuls of air. All but Mr. Lloyd and Brandon stood in paralyzed, open-mouthed horror. The two men gingerly approached the body and even though her skin was a sickly greyish blue colour, Brandon still attempted to find a pulse.

“She’s dead” Mr. Lloyd stated matter-of-factly. He was unconnected to K.A.’s retreat and felt no real bond to any of them. As a hunter (of more than just animals) he was certainly no stranger to corpses at his feet.

“Not just dead,” whispered Brandon hoarsely, his eyes raked over the body taking in the grossly swollen left eye, the limbs at unnatural angles, and finally the bullet holes: one in the thigh and one right between the eyes. “I think she’s been murdered.”

The story continues in Part 6! Available here!