Final Resort. Dana Mentink

he would forever think of as Ava’s.

      Mack Dog erupted from the trees and skidded crazily to the road below before trotting around the corner. Luca shuffled carefully on his skis a few feet to the left which gave him a better view of the road below the hill on which he stood. He saw now where the dog was headed, to a battered pickup truck, the front driver’s-side door open. Papers and an overturned cardboard box lay on the snow, as if thrown there along with a messy coil of rope and a toolbox with assorted wrenches scattered about.

      He stood, mouth open as the man he knew as Uncle Paul burst out of the trees, cheeks flushed with exertion.

      A second figure ran into view. Drawing close, she reached up a hand and stripped off her knit cap in irritation. The blond hair shone brilliant against the red of her jacket.

      He did not hear what she said to her uncle nor did he need to. Ava Stanton, no longer an awkward teenager, stood just below him, like some strange memory come to life before his eyes. There was such intensity on her face, such rigidity in her body that his breath caught, nerves tingling.

      As if she heard his thoughts, Ava tipped her head up.

      Her blue eyes met his, widening, probably lost in the same incredulity he felt.

      So riveted was he by those blazing eyes that he did not register the engine until a blue snowmobile appeared, the driver’s face obscured by a helmet with a mirrored visor.

      While Luca looked down at the bizarre scene, Paul’s mouth rounded in shock. The machine roared closer.

      Something odd and out of place appeared in the driver’s hand, something black and shiny.

      A gun.

      Luca’s pulse hammered.

      No, not a gun, something different.

      Luca’s brain produced the fact even as his body pushed forward, hurtling down the icy hill as the snowmobile closed the gap to Ava and her uncle.

      TWO

      Ava tore her gaze away from Luca’s face in time to see the snowmobile zooming toward them through a gap in the trees. She had no time to puzzle over Luca’s sudden appearance. Feet frozen in shock, she felt the snow tremble under her boots, as the engine noise pierced the air with the intensity of a buzz saw. Ava had seen people do crazy things on the slopes before, something about the combination of speed and snow seemed to rob them of their senses, but this was different.

      Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw something appear in the driver’s left hand while his right still gripped the accelerator. It was squat, compact, unfamiliar, but her instincts screamed in fear. The machine closed in, and she shouted to her uncle.

      “Uncle Paul!” Her words were lost in the scream of the engine.

      Paul raised an arm to his head as if to ward off a blow, Mack Dog barking wildly at the approaching threat, unsure whether to make for his master or the oncoming mechanical monster.

      Ava started forward with no better plan than to somehow get to her uncle. Her feet slipped and slid on patches of ice as she stumbled toward him. The snowmobiler was not more than fifteen feet away and closing rapidly, the black instrument aimed at her uncle. She saw that the hand gripping the weapon was ungloved, the finger now flipped up a trigger guard and pressed an illuminated button. Tiny projectiles exploded from the barrel. She watched in horror as they pierced Uncle Paul’s jacket like a swarm of enraged hornets.

      A wave of unseen energy swept through him. His body tensed and twitched as he went down, unconscious on the snow.

      “No,” Ava screamed, scrambling to get to him.

      The snowmobile stopped just long enough for the driver to haul Paul’s unconscious body up across his knees, and then the machine lurched forward again, heading straight for Ava.

      Her blood turned to ice.

      “You’re not taking him,” she yelled. “I won’t let you.”

      She had no idea how to stop the assailant. The only notion that thundered through her mind was to somehow slow the person who was going to take away her uncle.

      Her body went rigid, bracing for impact as the snowmobile’s skis flew across the ground.

      The mirrored visor reflected her terrified face back at her as the driver made the final approach.

      She threw up her arms and screamed.

      The air was knocked out of her as she was tossed aside, not by the impact of the snowmobile, but by Luca’s body as he crashed into her and sent her sailing into a pile of loose snow. They fell in a tangle of skis and ice particles.

      She felt his arms around her, trying to pull her away from the road, but she fought him off in spite of his strength.

      “Let go.”

      His green eyes flashed behind the swirl of snow. “Stay down.”

      “Get off, Luca.” She struggled to her feet and pulled herself free from him and the pile of snow, ignoring his clasping hands. Then she was running, following the ruts of the snowmobile, pushing as fast as she could against the wind.

      “Uncle Paul,” she screamed. Mack Dog raced along behind her, barking.

      She heard Luca snapping off his skis, getting to his feet, calling out to her.

      She ran up the hill and down toward the lake.

      The snowmobile was stopped there, idling, the unconscious Paul still lying brokenly across the driver’s lap. She could see the driver considering how to get by her car which was partially blocking the road. Going around would put the machine on unstable ice, possibly causing the skis to founder.

      The other side backed to a steep incline covered with loose powder which would undoubtedly ensnare the machine in moments. Ava continued to run as fast as her complaining muscles would allow. His indecision gave her a slim chance. If she could get her uncle off the machine and into the car...

      She closed the gap, ten yards, now five.

      Reaching forward, lungs burning with the effort, her fingers strained to grasp the metal passenger grip.

      Paul stirred, and she thought she could hear him groan.

      Almost there. Almost.

      As her fingers touched the cold metal of the passenger grip, the driver jerked into action, revving the motor. The snowmobile leaped forward into the pitched snow. For a moment, she thought he would not make it as the skis began to sink into the surface. With a surge of her last bit of energy, she grabbed the bar, clinging there as she was dragged along behind. Her weight unbalanced the machine and it slowed.

      She’d done it. He would have to stop.

      Then the snowmobile jerked and skidded, throwing her loose and sending her tumbling down the slope toward the lake.

      Arms spread, hands clawing, she tried to stop her momentum. Sky blurred with snow as she tumbled toward the glittering oval bowl.

      In dizzying glimpses she saw the driver wrestle the machine back up to the road and disappear into the distance as the lake rushed up to meet her.

      * * *

      Luca finally struggled clear of the snow. He’d seen enough to know that Paul had just been abducted although he did not give himself time to mull over the insane scenario. He texted an SOS with his GPS coordinates quickly to his sister.

      She would send help. He took off in the direction the snowmobile had gone, a frantic Ava charging after it.

      Doing his best to avoid the slick patches of icy snow, he ran as quickly as he dared until he slid close enough to witness Ava clinging to the back of the snowmobile. He saw her tensed fingers lose their grip on the bar as the machine bucked on the uneven snow. The unconscious body of her uncle Paul would have slipped to the ground as well if it weren’t wedged under the handlebars.

      The