One by One(68)

But Ani ended up dead…

The words are a whisper in my ear, an uncomfortable reminder of the fact that Liz and I are not alone in this chalet—there are two bodies upstairs. And somewhere out there in the frozen peaks there is a third, Eva, and maybe a fourth, because who knows what happened to Inigo after he stumbled away into the snow. It feels like death is closing around us. It feels like Liz and I could be next.

But no. I shake myself. This is morbid—ridiculously so.

“Your turn,” Liz says, and I look down and realize I have no idea when she made her move. I pick up a card from the draw pile at random and discard without really thinking about strategy.

“Rummy,” Liz says, and she lays out a run of four spades and three kings. I force a smile.

“Well done.”

Liz picks up the cards and deals again. I pick up my hand. It’s a good one—three of a kind straight off. But I can’t keep my mind on the cards.

“Eva’s death…,” I say cautiously, and Liz looks up.

She’s still wearing her oversize blue jumpsuit and I can’t really blame her. Even with the woodstove, the chalet is now painfully cold, and I can see my breath when I speak.

“That… It must have been quite a shock. I suppose the buyout won’t go through now? How did it feel—having all that money and then having it snatched away?”

I’m half expecting Liz to tell me that it’s none of my business—and it’s true, it’s not. But we’ve gone long past the point of guest and chalet girl, and we both know it.

“It felt… strange…,” Liz says, slowly. The firelight is reflecting off her glasses, making her expression even harder to read than usual, but I can see her forehead crinkle as she frowns.

“Did you resent Topher?” I ask. “For quashing the sale? I think I would have.”

But Liz is shaking her head.

“I never really wanted the money, to be honest. It never felt like mine. It was such a stupid sum, and for what?”

“Being in the right place at the right time, I guess?” I say with a laugh, but Liz doesn’t smile back. She shakes her head again, although I’m not sure what she’s denying. I can’t blame her though. Whatever place we have ended up in, all of us, it’s definitely not the right one.

Silence falls again. I look at my watch. Ten minutes to four. God, could this day pass any slower? Suddenly I can’t sit any longer, and I stand, putting my weight carefully on my swollen ankle, and make my way over to the long window overlooking the valley.

It is almost completely dark outside now, but the chalet is dark too, and so I don’t need to cup my hands to my eyes as I look out across the snow, wondering where Danny and the others are. Have they made it to Haut Montagne yet? And what about Topher and his party? I wish, harder than I’ve ever wished for anything before, that I had a phone with just a single bar of reception. Or a two-way radio. Or anything—some way of communicating with the outside world.

“Four aces,” says Liz, over my shoulder, and I sigh, and turn back to the darkening room.





LIZ


Snoop ID: ANON101

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It is 3:58. We are on our—I don’t know. Twentieth game of rummy, perhaps. I have not been counting. Thoughts are chasing around my brain like rats. Questions like: What is going to happen? When will they come? What will happen when the police get here?

Erin glances up at the clock on the mantelpiece above the stove. I can tell that she is feeling the same way I am.

“One more round,” she says, “and then I’ll figure out something for supper. They should be there by now.”

If they made it.

The words hang, unspoken, in the air, as Erin begins to deal.

It is more to drive the unsaid doubts away than because I really want to know that I say it.

“Topher said you were in an avalanche. What was it like?”

Erin looks up. I have caught her by surprise, and for a second her face is unguarded, horribly vulnerable. She looks like I have punched her. For a moment, I regret asking her. Then she composes herself. She deals out the last few cards before she speaks.

“I was. Three years ago. It was—” She stops, looks down at the remainder of the deck in her hand. “It was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. Then something occurs to me. “Even counting this weekend?”

She gives a laugh at that, a shaky mirthless one, and nods.

“Yes, unbelievably. Even counting this weekend. I can’t explain how awful it was. The noise, the shock, the sense of powerlessness—” She falters, as if she is struggling to find the words. “I thought… I thought that it would have made it worse, you know? Being caught up in the same horror all over again. But in a strange way I… I think I’ve been expecting it to happen. Like I escaped the mountain once, so it would come back for me.”

She stares into the darkness. She is facing me, so it should feel like she is staring at me, but I have the odd feeling that she is not, that she is looking through me, as if I am not there. It gives me a strange sensation. As if I am already gone.

“Is that when you—when you got your—” I can’t say it. I just touch my face with my fingers, and she nods.