Chapter 16 – The Lodge
Rebecca and the group fed and night falling, we pressed onward up the mountain, the walkers falling farther and farther behind as the air turned colder. It wasn't long before the trees faded together into one massive clump of distorted shadows and we were all but walking straight up the side of the hill. The earth beneath our feet became hard and cold, threats of snow impending. It would be a brutal winter.
"Look," someone breathed in the darkness. "I wish those still worked."
I turned my head to the sky, the very motion painful. The ski lifts dangled from thick lines of cable, their red seats peeling in the moonlight. The ski lodge was ahead, a triangular silhouette cutting into the navy sky and eliminating the stars.
As we crept to the top, Nick and Carlos at the head, we knelt in the grass.
"Well? What are we waiting for?" Rebecca sounded impatient. Rebecca always sounded impatient.
"We have to be careful," Carlos whispered, his gun trained on the porch of the ski lodge.
"Careful? We've been on the road for five days. My back is done bein' careful."
Not convinced, but with no other options, Carlos led us up to the porch. It was massive, cradling the whole facade of the lodge, overlooking the lifts and the trees below. If not for the moonlight, I wouldn't have been able to see the path we'd taken up, or the bridge in the far beyond.
"Doesn't look like anybody's home," Alvin remarked. Nick paced ahead to the other side of the outlook, looking nervous. "Damn," Alvin stole my attention again, "nailed down tight." I eyed the lodge, and it was true: the windows and glass doors were boarded up, and it wasn't an expert job but the wood seemed sturdy. Fresh, even. I could smell the cedar. Alvin and Carlos disappeared around the side of the wraparound to check the front doors. I pivoted. Clem was leaning against the railing, staring out into the dark from whence we'd come.
"Hey," I nudged her, folding my arms atop the railing at her side.
"Hey," she smiled gently at me. I began to wade through my thoughts, trying to pick one to share with her. What was best? Something funny – a joke to lift her spirits? A piece of melancholy to commiserate with? I sighed, feeling my breath turn cold the instant it touched the night air.
"Could probably get a better view from up top."
I looked over my shoulder. Luke stood there, gazing up at a tower jutting out from the earth a few yards from the porch. It was accessible by a narrow, precarious ladder. I swallowed. Bars would be cold, maybe slippery. But it might be worth it to see that far down the mountain. I thought of Carver and was grateful I could blame the weather for my shiver.
"You'd have an easier time getting up there," Luke remarked, and it sounded suspiciously like avoidance. "Feel like taking a look? It'd be just like climbing a treehouse."
Clem and I stared at the tower. She turned to me. "I never had a treehouse," I shrugged.
"They're not that fun after a while," she smiled weakly. "Come on, let's go."
xxxxxx
Clem ascended first. I waited until she was up a few rungs and followed; Luke stood below and began to laugh, telling us a story of when he was younger, jumping rooftops with his friends. Maybe he detected Clem's fear of heights. I climbed higher, nearly slipping as I gripped an icy patch on one of the rungs. My hands stung with the cold and I painfully readjusted my grip.
"Ah!" Clem gasped, slipping suddenly. Her left foot caught me in the shoulder.
"Woah, woah, woah!" Luke shouted from below. "You're fine, you're fine! Just look at me, you're fine."
"Clem, don't," I cringed, moving my head away from her shoe. "Don't look down, bad idea." Luke couldn't hear me at this height. I caught my breath, raising up on my rung to support Clem's weight. "Step on me if you need to. Almost there."
Clem nodded, opening her eyes. She exhaled deeply and continued up, hoisting herself through the square hole on the tower landing. For a moment, she disappeared, then reappeared, staring down at me with her arms ready. I ascended the rest of the way, grabbing her hand and letting her pull me up.
"Whew," we approached the edge, startling a grackle roosting there. "Made it." She sounded cheerful, reaching into her backpack for the binoculars.
"See anything?" Luke hollered.
"The bridge," Clementine replied. I peered down, squinting against the sheer blackness. The river cut a wide navy strip in my view and I barely made out the silhouette of the bridge, the station, and the cable cars marking the path we'd blazed to the top.
"Clem," I whispered, pointing down to the edge of the river. She refocused the binoculars, and I could almost feel her heart sink. "Let me see." She passed the binoculars into my palm and I stared down at the minute beams of yellow light.
"What is it?" Luke shouted.
"Lights," I replied, full of fascination and dread.
"You don't think it's..." Clem started, tapering off.
"Well, I don't believe in coincidences," I muttered, handing the binoculars back and turning to look down at Luke. But he wasn't there. He was running back to the porch. And from our perch Clem and I could see that we weren't, in fact, alone here at the lodge. "Shit." There were maybe three or four of them, and they had guns.