“Okay.” Curtis seems relieved. “But we need to get a move on because we don’t want to be stranded halfway down when that storm hits.”

I ease my poor feet into my snowboard boots, bending my bad knee as little as possible. The insoles are damp and icy—should have put them by the fire last night—but at least the cold takes my mind off the blisters. I fasten my harness and pull my goggles over my forehead. My transceiver is still in my jacket pocket.

Out in the corridor, Curtis knocks on Heather’s door. “Hey, it’s us.”

Brent opens the door, hair sticking out in all directions, dark circles around his eyes.

“You get some sleep?” Curtis says.

Brent pulls a face. “Put it this way: if I had some Smash, I’d drink it.”

“Didn’t Smash go bust a few years ago?” I say.

“Yeah,” Brent says. “Should have come up with a better flavor.”

“How’s Heather?” Curtis says.

Brent swings the door wide. They’ve done the same thing that Curtis did with the mattresses—positioned them side by side on the floor. Heather is curled in a ball on the nearest one, tear-stricken and anguished, hands clenched around the duvet. Did Brent arrange the mattresses like that so he could hold her? I’m touched—yet not surprised. Brent’s a really sweet guy. And he possibly has more affection for her than her husband has.

Heather’s eyes open. And close again when she sees it’s only us. She rolls to face the other way.

Curtis beckons Brent into the corridor. “Did she sleep?”

Brent lowers his voice. “Nah, she’s a mess.” He rubs his eyes. “So what’s the plan?”

“Storm’s coming in. We search for Dale fast and get out of here.” Curtis glances at me. “If Milla reckons her knee will hold up.”

“It’ll hold up,” I say.

Brent looks dubious. “It’s a long way. And what about Heather?”

Curtis and I exchange looks. Shit. Back to square one. She can use Dale’s snowboard now, I guess, but it won’t be easy.

Brent tests the light switch. “Power’s on. How about I see what’s going on with the computers?”

“You’ll need a password, surely,” Curtis says.

“It’s worth a try,” Brent says. “If I get in, I can email the resort and we’ll get the lift running.”

“It’s too risky going down there on your own,” I say. “We need to stick together. And you can’t leave Heather up here.”

“I’ll take her with me,” Brent says. “And the axe.”

Curtis nods. “All right. We’ll come and find you, but be careful, yeah?”

Curtis and I pick up our snowboards. Screwdriver in one hand, board in the other, he helps me down the corridor.