Another update after a long time...Sorry, guys xD
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Hours left until the wedding : 31
Miles left until Venice: 260
It was like in one of those James Bond movies. When the mini bus drove across the icy streets of the Simplon Pass, Mercedes was scared they would fall down the acclivity any moment because the vehicle was skidding dangerously.
"Will we arrive soon?", she asked anxiously.
"No, weather really bad", the driver answered.
The only one who seemed to be in a good mood was Kurt. "Better than to sit in an airplane over the clouds", he said, beaming. "If we get into an accident, there is at least a chance that we survive. We would be hurt badly, but at least something, right?"
Mercedes exchanged glances with Sam and they both needed to bite back their laughter.
"Kurt?", Sam said.
"Yes?"
"Do you see the door?"
"Yes?"
"Would you please stay away from it? Galina isn't there to keep you away if you flip out."
"Ha ha, really funny." But in fact, Kurt was laughing as well.
Outside, it looked like Mercedes had seen it in all the cliché postcards of the alps. All the trees were snowhite, there were lodges out of wood every now and then, the streets were covered with snow as well.
"Do you like skiing?", Mercedes asked Sam. The latter one shook his head.
"As someone from New Zealand, I never really understood the appeal. Moving around on two sticks in colored sleepers – no thanks. And you?"
Mercedes chuckled. "I hate it. But you are wrong considering the clothes."
"I knew you would say that."
"The technique of producing these clothes are just amazing."
Sam rolled his eyes. "If you say so…"
"But that's the truth! The materials are lighter, but warmer so that you can move around more easily."
"Skiers look like big babies", Sam muttered.
Mercedes laughed. "I won't change your mind about that, right?"
"Highly improbable."
"My Décoste skiing collection for the next season has accents inspired by Alexander Jacobs' collection", Kurt commented. "I call it Decoluxe."
"Your collection?", Mercedes asked teasingly.
Kurt just grimaced and bit his lower lip.
"Oh, look!" Mercedes pointed at a car that was about to fall down the cliff.
"I hope the passengers are fine.", Sam said, frowning. "What if…oh!"
At this moment, the bus was skidding towards the cliff as well.
"Oh my gosh!" Mercedes clutched Sam's arm in panic. The driver countersteered and somehow could get the bus back to the road again.
"Phew, well done", Sam said and patted the busdriver's shoulder.
He shook his head. "Not good", he muttered, concentrating on the road in front of him.
At this moment, a lot of cars from the opposite direction passed them.
"That's good, right?", Kurt said. "The streets up there need to be free, from where else do these cars come from?"
It didn't took them long to realized from where exactly the cars came from. When they continued driving, they saw a small bus turnout where all the cars before them could turn their vehicles. Because the snow drift in front of them made it clearly impossible to continue driving, the streets were covered with knee high snow, the blizzard made it impossible to see anything.
Sam and Mercedes exchanged worried glances, Kurt shook his head when he looked out of the window.
That was it. End of the trip.
The driver looked over to the trio behind him. "I'm sorry.", he said. "It's over for me."
Mercedes was disappointed. But she didn't even try to convince him, it was hopeless. Even if they continued driving, up there would be even more snow.
"That's relatable" Sam sighed. "I wouldn't dare to continue driving either."
"We need to return to the hotel and think of another way to get to Venice", Kurt spoke up.
Mercedes buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Coralee will fully understand." Not in the slightest.
The blizzard got worse and worse. Back in Lima or even in New York, Mercedes experienced a lot of snowstorms, but not like that one. This was close to a natural disaster.
"Well, I won't give up", Sam declared all of a sudden. "We already came that far, and I need to get to Venice. And so do you two."
"Sam, the streets are blocked", Mercedes pointed out. "So if you don't have a teleporter like in Star Trek to teleport us to that place…Sam? Where are you going?"
He had opened the door and climbed out. Then, he turned to Mercedes and grinned impertinently.
"Over there is a house. Do you see it?"
Mercedes got out as well, glad that she had put on some warm clothes that day. Snowflakes were falling down her face.
"Yes, but…"
"People don't live at places like this one without being prepared for extreme situations. I will walk over and talk to them – maybe, they have a cross country vehicle or something like that."
"Okay", Mercedes answered indecisively. "I bet you would like some dumb high-tech skiing equipement now, right?"
"To hell with that", he said and pointed at his knit sweater which was already covered with snow. "If wool is good enough for sheep, it's good enough for me as well!"
He trudged through the snow to the direction of the house, but then, he turned around and shouted: "Kurt!"
"Yes?" Kurt had just retrieved his expensive looking designer fur coat from his suitcase and was putting it on.
"Are you coming with me?", Sam asked. "Maybe, they only speak French."
Kurt closed his suitcase and followed Sam through the snow, not trying to slip.
"I will come as well" Even though Mercedes was wearing thousands of layers of clothes , her teeth were clattering. "We won't take long!", she shouted to the busdriver, but her voice was drowned out by the blizzard.
Halfway to the house, they heard how doors behind them were slammed and the tires of a car.
Frozen to the spot, the three of them turned around slowly. The driver had put all of their luggage including the dress on the snow next to the street, honked and drove down the mountain.
"Merde", Kurt muttered.
"You can say that again.", Mercedes agreed. "Come on, let's get the luggage, or else, the dress will be a mess."
They went back and took all of their suitcases and bags. Mercedes relievedly noticed that the dress bag seemed to be fine, luckily, the material was waterproof.
"Let's go", Sam said, pointing at the house. "And see what awaits us at that place."
"Or else, we are going to freeze to death", Kurt added, shaking his head.
The trio stumbled and half slided through the snow until they arrived in front of the woody entrance door.
"That's how horror movies start", Mercedes commented. "Maybe, we will get killed now."
"Are you always so optimistic?", Sam wanted to know.
"Sorry."
"Those shoes are not made for snow", Kurt complained.
Sam rolled his eyes. When he knocked on the door, a middle aged man opened it. He seemed to be not that surprised by their visit.
"Bonjour."
"Do you speak English?", Sam asked him. "Or French?"
The man nodded and answered in English: "What happened? Did you get into an accident?"
Mercedes sighed relievedly. The last thing they needed was a communication problem.
"Atually, we didn't", Sam answered and held out his hand. "Sam Evans. And these are my friends Mercedes…"
"…Jones and Kurt Hummel.", she ended his sentence.
"Chevalier", the man introduced himself dryly and shook Sam's hand. "Please enter, let's leave the weather outside."
They brushed as much snow from the clothes as they could and gratefully followed the man to the warm hallway. On the walls were a lot of maps, a couple of walkie talkies were lying on the racks which red lights were blinking every now and then.
While Sam told him what had happened, the man shook his head.
"We wondered", Sam ended the story "whether you could help us cross the pass so that we could get to Domodossola."
"I can't get away from here", Chevalier explained and shrugged "I am coordinating the rescue service."
"I see", Sam nodded. "That' a problem."
"Anyway", Chevalier pointed out of the window "The weather is too bad to leave. Look!"
There was no need for Mercedes to look out of it because she had seen it with her own eyes not long ago, but she turned around obediently. The blizzard had covered the windows with snowflakes, it looked worse than before.
"The only way you could cross the pass would be by snowmobile. But even this is…"
"Do you know where we can get one?", Mercedes asked.
The man hesitated.
"Sir", Sam spoke up. "Do you have one you could borrow us?"
"Or sell us?", Mercedes added. Money shouldn't matter at this mission.
"Well, I have one. But I can't give it to you."
Silence.
"Why not, Monsieur?", Kurt asked, making his best puppy dog eyes. "You can trust us not to destroy it."
"No", Chevalier shook his head.
"Sir", Sam said "We are aware that this is a big favor, but we will treat your snowmobile right."
"And we are stuck at this place", Mercedes reminded him.
Sam threw her a glance that told her to let him to that. Mercedes grimaced, but was ignored by him.
"I guess there is only one way down to the Simplon Pass, right?"
Chevalier nodded.
"Do you know anyone down there? You can call him and make sure we don't just leave. And we can give the snowmobile back to this person as well."
Chevalier seemed to think about it. "I'm sorry, but I don't make deals like that."
Mercedes' hope was gone.
"I will tell you something", Sam said after a while. "Can we talk, only the two of us? I have a good reason why you would want to agree to all this."
Chevalier hesitated. He looked to Mercedes and back to Sam before he nodded.
"This way", he said coolly and pointed at his office on the other end of the hallway.
Sam followed him and the door was closed behind them. Mercedes wondered what Sam would offer to that man. The leading part in his next movie? A kidney? Both would be worth it.
"I never have been in a snowmobile", Mercedes explained to Kurt.
"Me neither", Kurt answered.
She could hear how Sam and Chevalier were talking but didn't understand what exactly they were saying. At least, their tone stayed friendly.
"I don't care whether I will be on time at Coralee's wedding.", Mercedes commented. "She wouldn't even notice if I looked like a clown – or didn't show up. But if the dress is not in bridezilla's arms before Monday, she will destroy the entire city."
"Is your family's relationship really that bad?", Kurt asked compassionately.
"Yes!", Mercedes answered immediately. "No, actually, it isn't. Or it is, somehow…"
Kurt leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug. Mercedes felt tears well up. "I know that mom and Coralee love me", she explained with a trembling voice. "And I love them as well. It's just that it's always about Coralee, even before dad has left us. I always wanted that to change, but I always messed it up. I am such a goof."
"Goof?" Kurt didn't understand that American expression.
"You know, the clown in the family", Mercedes explained.
"But that's not true", he said softly.
"Yes, it is. Since the day I broke the musical box, I…"
Luckily for her, the door of the office reopened, and Sam entered the hallway. Chevalier had laid his arm around him as if they were bros and explained to him how the brakes of the snowmobile worked.
"Okay", Sam nodded.
"I will go get the keys", Chevalier smiled. "Wait an instant, please."
"He agreed?", Mercedes gasped. "Sam, you are a hero!" She pulled him in a hug, but then, she pulled away again and blushed slightly.
Sam cleared his throat; the hug had surprised him as well. "Yes, he did. We can drive down to the post station of Varzo. From that town, there is a bus to Domodossola."
"Can you drive that thing?", Kurt asked somewhat skeptically.
Sam shrugged. "Is 'Maybe' enough as an answer? I drove something similar."
"That's enough for me", Mercedes assured him. "How much did you pay him? We will share the costs, okay?"
Sam frowned. "Why do you think I paid for it?", he wanted to know and turned away.
"Because I wasn't born yesterday!"
Sam pinched his nose. "There was no money involved."
"But how...?"
At this moment, Chevalier returned with keys in hand. "Shall we?"
They followed him out of the house to the coldness Mercedes found worse than before, probably because her clothes were still wet. He led them to his garage and opened the door.
A black jetboat, modified for snowy weather came into view.
Stunned, Mercedes stared at the vehicle. "That's it?" She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sight of that thing.
"That's it", Chevalier confirmed proudly. "Votre chariot, Mademoiselle."
Mercedes came closer to have a look at it. "I have seen bigger lawn movers than that!"
Kurt didn't seem that thrilled either. "And how do we put all the luggage inside it? This isn't even big enough for the three of us"
"Don't worry about that", Chevalier said quickly. "I always use this."
He carefully put down a plastic thing from the racks next to them that kind of looked like a ironing board.
"Voila, my stretcher", he said proudly. "You can put your luggage inside it and drag it after you."
"You are kidding, right?", Mercedes panted.
Sam threw her a killing glance. "Do you have a better idea?"
"A couple of years ago, I took part on a cresta run in Celerina", Kurt said and rubbed his hands. "On a birthday party of a good friend. It wasn't that bad, maybe because I had already drunk a couple of cocktails." He winked at Mercedes. "Come on, a little adventure will do us good!"
"Kurt!" Mercedes was speechless. "You need to be on my side now. Antoine's designer dress on a stretcher? Are you out of your mind?"
"Not as much as on the plane", he countered. "And I can iron every wrinkle once we are in Venice, don't worry."
Mercedes ran out of arguments. Chevalier retrieved three helmets and three protection gloves. Kurt and Mercedes fixed the luggage to the stretcher and carefully put the dress on top. Now, it looked more like a body bag that was about to be taken away from a crime scene.
In the meanwhile, Chevalier explained to Sam how the snowmobile worked. Finally, they dragged it outside and Sam fixed the stretcher to the vehicle with Chevalier helping him.
"Are you sure it's fixed?", Mercedes asked insecurely.
"Yes", Sam nodded shortly, "I am good at things like that. Now, get on board, everyone."
He waved at Chevalier and got onto the front seat. Mercedes got in behind him and Kurt behind her. The snowmobile was only for two people, so they were all pressed to each other. When she put her arms around Sam's waist, she could feel his warm body against hers, and it didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Hello there, muscles!
Sam turned on the engine, and they drove off.
Chevalier jogged next to them a few feet and shouted to Sam how to accelerate and how to steer. Soon, they were speeding down the mountain. Jammed between Sam and Kurt, Mercedes turned her head to see whether the dress was still okay. The stretcher was skidding after them, but everything seemed to be fine.
That was by far the most surreal experience in her life.
Now that Chevalier was out of sight, they were on their own. The storm wasn't that strong anymore, and it had stopped snowing. But all the snow on the streets was already enough to block the traffic for a long, long time.
Even though the snowmobile was fully charged, it was pretty fast and they could drive through the snow without problems.
"Is everyone okay?", Sam shouted.
"Not so fast!", Kurt shouted back, but Mercedes doubted that Sam could hear it due to the loud engine. She clutched Sam's abs tighter and enjoyed his tensed muscles.
The snowmobile got faster and faster because of the steeply sloping mountain.
"Woooow!" Mercedes realized that it had been her who had cheered. "That's amazing!" A shiver was running down her spine. "Better than any carousel!"
Kurt behind her was laughing as well. They continued driving and followed the snowy street down to Varzo. Mercedes needed to think about her time in college. Back then, she wanted to travel across Europe and adventure. That she would sit on a snowmobile with a designer dress, a movie maker and Décoste's right-hand-man, driving across the alps was beyond her imagination.
The snow on the ground became less and less the closer they got to Varzo – and a scratching noise made Mercedes look back. The stretcher was skidding after them dangerously, they needed to drive slower or else, it would tip over eventually.
"Sam!", she shouted.
He didn't hear her.
"Slow down!"
Suddenly, there was a loud, not good sounding noise, and Kurt shouted: "Stop!"
Appalled, Mercedes watched how the stretcher's ropes ripped and how the stretcher was gliding down the mountain in a dangerously fast way, as if it had its own engine.
To the wrong direction.