Chapter 47

Battling an urge to dash for the Ranger, Ashley made herself creep toward the branch, stretching to catch her light. As soon as it came within reach, she snatched it up and sprinted toward the road, nearly tumbling when her foot caught the top of a dark stone.



Finally, she reached the Ranger and hastily bent to wedge the bough beneath the mired wheel. When it was securely in place, she climbed inside.

By now, her body was stiff from cold and tension. She struggled to remain clearheaded as she looked over her shoulder and applied gentle pressure to the gas pedal. The Ranger didn't budge. Ashley upped the pressure.



Nothing happened.



As she steadied herself for one more try, the terrible wail came again. So loud, so close, it seemed just outside her door. She spun toward the windshield. She'd forgotten the headlight! And in the perimeter of its spilled light, a blurred shape moved with superhuman speed.



Ashley slammed down on the gas pedal.

The Ranger lurched — once, twice, then again. She let up and stomped down again. The vehicle shuddered, broke loose, and careened back at drag-racing speed.



Ashley instinctively hit the brakes, all the while knowing it was the wrong thing to do. Brakes squealed, and tires screeched. The Ranger zigzagged, then spun, she battled the steering wheel, trying to force it in the direction of the skid, but it defied her control.

Behind her, the wall of snow loomed larger and larger until it filled her rearview mirror. Like a great white shark, the wall opened up and sucked in the four-by-four like a minnow until it jerked to a halt against the skeleton of solid earth. The jolt threw Ashley against the steering wheel, propelled her up and into the windshield, then rebounded her back into the seat, where she slumped like a rag doll.



Her head roared with pain. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Her vision grew fuzzy. Within the beams of the headlights, evergreen branches swayed and dark, unnameable shadows danced, blinking, she tried to bring the sights into focus. She felt light-headed and giddy. As a strangled moan escaped her lips, her world quaked. She watched numbly as snow slid down the windshield.



At first, the avalanche only covered the hood, then, gaining momentum, it dumped huge chunks of snow on the roof, where they clattered, bounced off the glass, and slid down the fenders. Ashley screamed and then the windows were filled with white. All was deadly quiet. The only light inside the car came from the dimly glowing instrument panel.



Who would protect the wolves? Was all she wondered as she passed into unconsciousness.



And from the shadows of the forest, a pair of gold-blue eyes witnessed her misfortune.