Free Buried Alive! by Gloria Skurzynski Page B

parts looked like white carpet.
    Suddenly he felt his sister’s hand on his elbow and saw that she was walking in tandem with him once again, her boots thumping lightly in the snow. “You can stay if you want, Nicky,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going with Jack.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    â€œH old up, I’m coming!” Nicky cried. “I don’t like it, but I’m coming.”
    â€œGood,” Ashley said. Ashley’s smile irritated Jack. Hadn’t his sister just sided with him? He’d been hoping Nicky would stay away but now, once again, they were three. Well, Jack had bigger problems to worry about than Nicky Milano. The howling of dogs rang through the air; in the distance Jack saw a dark shape that looked like an arm reaching up from a sinking ship. For a split second he thought it belonged to Chaz until he realized it was one of the dogs. Jack began to breathe again.
    Sasha howled as if he’d been shot. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there!” Ashley cried.
    â€œI still say we free the dogs and leave Chaz buried. Guys like him have nine lives,” Nicky said grimly. “Like in a horror movie, he’ll come back. He’s just too mean.”
    The path of the avalanche, as wide as the length of a football field, ran from the very top of the mountain all the way to the creek bed and beyond. Although smooth slabs of snow had sheared off the mountain wall, the avalanche path was marbled with chunks that ranged in size from pebbles to grapefruit to bowling balls. Here and there Jack saw the scattered remains of trees, their broken limbs resting at crazy angles. An enormous force had been contained in that roaring mass of snow. It was as if a bomb had gone off—nature’s bomb that had instantly swept everything in its path.
    And yet, now that its fury was gone, the mountain seemed to have settled back to sleep. A mist churned by the avalanche hung in the air, muting colors of trees and sky as if they were covered with tissue paper. Every few seconds a stream of snow would break free from spruce needles, cascading in tiny chutes until the branches once again sprang toward the hidden sun. It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been so deadly. They pushed on, struggling through snow that seemed to grow thicker with each step.
    â€œWhat time is it?” Jack asked.
    Nicky jerked up his coat sleeve to check his watch. “Two thirty-six. I figure we were hit about 18 minutes ago. Which means—”
    â€œWe’d better go faster,” Ashley finished up. She didn’t add what he knew they were all thinking, that if Chaz was under the snow, his time was quickly running out. “So come on!” she cried.
    From the sound of the dogs, Jack could tell Chaz had made it to the farthest side of the path of the avalanche. If not for the huskies’ cacophony, they would never have known how to find the sled. The yelps served as a beacon, drawing them to the site like a lighthouse drew ships.
    â€œDo you think the dogs’ noise’ll cause another slide?” Ashley asked nervously.
    â€œNo. We’re right in the path of the one that already fell. We’ll be OK.” Jack looked into the remaining trees, and for a moment his heart jumped into his throat. There, perched in the thick foliage of a spruce tree, sat a boreal owl. From the mottled shadows, its large yellow eyes seemed to watch his every step. He must be getting jumpy, maybe because Nicky had mentioned horror movies and the owl looked eerie. Get a grip, he told himself. Odds were that Chaz lay buried with the sled. And yet, Jack and Ashley and Nicky had defied the same odds by escaping the snow’s grasp. Maybe Chaz had, too.
    The barking became deafening. The two lead dogs, Kenai and Sasha, had clawed a crater in the snow around them—a hole three feet deep and four feet wide. Still attached to the gang line, they frantically strained