They reached the foothills just as the snow tapered off. Mary couldn’t find any signs of clearing, though. The sky was heavy gray, like wet concrete. Countryside was deserted. They were miles from the village she’d seen. The only manmade fixture was a grouping of pylons the PRTs had sunk into the roadway along the hairpins and dropoffs.

They slid the fiberglass boards out of the Land Cruiser, and each carried their own. At first she’d thought they’d have to lug the boards uphill before they could sled, but when they walked a few steps, she saw they were parked at the crest of a slope. Frank threw his down and pushed off. He lay on his belly, soles of his boots large in the air, then smaller and smaller until he reached bottom and coasted to a stop. He left a fluted track, as if someone had dragged a fork down a pile of salt. Jeff followed immediately, but Rex waited until he saw Frank climbing back.

She watched them skidding into the recess. She heard exclamations, and their dampened voices sounded as if they’d floated out of her memories from childhood. She fought the feeling that something was wrong. She told herself it was nothing more than the way she felt before she jumped into the first cold water of summer. Just go.

She went a little slower than she’d expected at first, but then velocity picked up, really exploded. Midway, Frank made to leap in front of her—he did leap and then leapt back, bellowing. She couldn’t tell what he was trying to say. For the first time in months, she felt magnificently careless. Like any June lake that she’d first dived into, the speed encased her, cleaning her out.

Rex was at the bottom, waiting for her. They ran back up the hill like kids. Frank was on his way down when they got near the top. He steered right for them, and Mary stood in his way with her arms folded and feet planted, then sidestepped at the last moment.

“X!” Frank hollered. His hand reached out for her ankle. He missed. “I’ll get you next time,” he wailed, his voice winding down into a shrunken sound near the bottom.

When they reached the top, Rex went down feet-first, toes up. He batted his hand against his open mouth, whooping like an Indian chief. Mary whooshed down just after him, a dolphin.