A quick glance over my shoulder. A small thrill goes through me when I see the machine stopped at the bank. The driver stands on the ice, watching me. I wonder why he’s not coming after me. The thought flits though my brain, leaving a streak of uneasiness in its wake.

I’ve nearly reached the opposite shore when the ice groans beneath my feet. A chill runs through my body. I spent many a day on the ice when I was a kid; I know what that sound means. The ice is unstable, too thin to sustain my weight, or else there’s a pressure ridge.

I slow, sliding my feet across the surface to more evenly distribute my weight and lessen the force of impact. I keep my eyes on the surface, looking for water coming up over the snow. Even with the moonlight, it’s difficult to see.

“It’s gonna break!” comes Yoder’s voice from behind me.

I don’t stop.

“I’m not going to fish you out!” he calls to me, his voice amicable. “Come on back here and we’ll forget about all this.”

I continue toward the bank, cautiously, sliding one foot in front of the other. The opposite shore is twenty yards away. Almost there. I glance behind me. I can just make out the hulking form of the snowmobile, but the driver is nowhere in sight.

Where the hell did he go?

The back of my neck prickles. I focus on the shore, moving faster now, like a speed skater, covering the distance as quickly as possible. I’m nearly there when water sloshes over my boot. I slide my other foot forward. The sole of my boot bumps over a large ridge in the ice.

A loud creak! echoes across the surface. I know I’m going into the water an instant before the ice breaks open beneath me. A giant mouth swallowing me whole. I spread my arms to break the fall, but the momentum sucks me down, forcing my arms over my head. My coat rides up, trapping my arms.

The cold shocks my brain, paralyzes my body. My lungs contract. I gasp and inhale water. Chest too tight to cough. The world goes silent and black. Water in my mouth. In my eyes. My ears. Panic descends.

I struggle mindlessly against the tangle of my coat. My fist strikes ice and for a terrible moment I think I’ve been swept under. I kick my feet. My boots hinder me but I don’t stop. Somehow my coat rights itself. An instant later my face breaks the surface.