Louisa George - Saved By Their One-Night Baby

‘Why are you here, then, and not with him? You guys are such good mates you’re like an old married couple.’ In fact, it had been Nick they’d been arguing about outside the drying room. Same old stuff. Who was chicken, who was going to win, who was going to wipe out on the slalom. Just banter to fuel the competitive teenage aggression. That, and the fact Nick was always so damned sure of himself.

He was a shoe-in for the British junior team, and Chase and Ethan and everyone else were fighting for a place alongside him. A couple of beats passed before Chase answered. ‘Sucks, right? But until help gets here you’re going to have to put up with me. Lucky for you I’m just the right size to belly-crawl through the one tiny hole between you and the outside.’

‘Lucky? I have a wall on my legs.’ But the others were safe. That was one good thing. Not choked up in here like him. Wait...if he was lucky then did that mean Nick hadn’t been? Had Chase chosen to help him and not Nick? What the hell? His head hurt too much to make any sense of it.

‘You’re talking, that’s something.’

A sharp pain funnelled through Ethan’s lungs as he tried to inhale. It felt as if the blackness was filling him up from the inside too, stopping his breath. ‘I can’t breathe.’

‘If you can talk you can breathe.’ Chase tapped his hand. ‘When we get out of here, Reid, I’m going to whip your arse down La Sache.’

‘Yes, you will.’

‘Whoa. You always beat me down that run. Every single time. Where’s the fighting talk you like to give me? Bring it on, Reid.’

‘I can’t feel my feet.’

Silence.

Chase swore. Everyone knew a skier couldn’t ski if they couldn’t feel their damned legs. ‘Probably just the cold.’

The panic he’d thought he’d got a hold of bubbled up through Ethan’s belly to his chest. He couldn’t feel his feet or his back. He couldn’t stop shaking. There was so much ice and wetness and blackness he was suffocating with it. He wanted to breathe fresh air. He wanted to be outside. Would he ever be warm again? He gripped Chase’s hand as water seeped through his clothes. ‘I don’t want to die. Not here and not like this.’

Seventeen was way too young to die, he had a whole lot of living to do. Right?

The next moment was filled with another ominous creak and the drip, drip, drip of snow melt. Chase inhaled loudly then huffed out as their world, which had shrunk to this twisted leaning lodge, stopped moving. ‘You’re not going to die, man.’

‘Face it, I’m freezing. I’m hurting. I’m stuck in a collapsed building.’ The parts of his skin that he could feel stung with such intensity it felt as if he was on fire. ‘Is it hot in here? I’m starting to burn up. Can you take the blanket away?’

‘There is no way you can be hot, it’s probably hypothermia. Listen to me, you have to hang on. Someone’s coming to get you out.’ Chase rubbed rough hands over Ethan’s palm. He stretched and wound his arm through the tiny gap between body and wall, and rubbed Ethan’s torso, encouraging blood flow. Then over his leg. Chest. Cheeks. And then he started again at Ethan’s hand. He worked for a few minutes then murmured, ‘Don’t you ever tell anyone I did this, okay?’

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’ Time to be honest. Because if you’re going to die, then why not? ‘I’m scared.’

Ethan’s heart thumped and he fought to control himself, wishing he hadn’t said something so weak. He had to pretend he was okay, right? That he wasn’t scared. That everything was going to be fine, just as Chase had told him it would be.

Chase beat him to it. ‘So, we’re ripping it up down La Sache. It’s one of those perfect days, you know, where the sky is so cloudless and blue it’s almost as dazzling as the powder. And you’ve got your best form, right? Everything’s going perfectly—’

A deafening crash broke him off. The earth shuddered under Ethan as more of the lodge—close enough for them to feel the whip of air and backdraught—collapsed.

‘Get out, Chase. Go. Before the whole place comes down.’

But instead of retreating, Chase edged closer, holding Ethan’s hand tightly. ‘You’ve got your best form on, right? La Sache. You make three perfect turns. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoo—’

Another crash. Chase’s breathing got faster. ‘Okay. Looks like we’ve got to do something. Fast.’ Chase directed his head torch onto the beam. ‘Right. Let’s try this again.’

Turning tightly in the cramped space, he lifted his knees, pressed his feet against the broken beam and heaved. Heaved some more. ‘Anything? Any movement at all?’

‘No.’ Ethan pushed and tried to wriggle his body free, but every time Chase moved, clumps of dust and ceiling fell around them like confetti.

‘On my count...’ Chase glanced up at the ceiling, such as it was, illuminating it again, and they both saw the whole thing ripple like a wave as he moved. Any minute now the place would come down on top of them, suffocating them. ‘One. Two. Three.’

The beam shifted enough for Ethan to drag one leg free. ‘Yep. Almost.’ Another creak. ‘Go. It’s too dangerous. Leave me here. Get the hell out, I don’t need you on my conscience.’

But Chase shook his head and tightened his hold on the beam. ‘The rents are going to be so relieved when we get you out of here. Can’t wait to see their faces.’

‘My parents are here?’ Ethan knew Chase was trying to distract him from the task in hand, keeping him talking, keeping him alive.

‘Mr Wheeler said he was going to call everyone’s parents. They’re flying them all out here.’

‘Okay. Tell them...’ What to say? He doubted they’d even turn up, but just in case they did Ethan chose his last words to his parents very carefully. ‘Tell them I forgive them.’

‘I’m not passing on any message, you can tell them yourself. And there will be media too. There always are at things like this. You’re going to be famous. The boy who lived, right?’

‘And who are you? Freaking Hermione?’

‘In your dreams, Reid.’

Little falls of dust trickled over them. Outside someone was shouting at everyone to keep still.

‘Ne bouge pas. Attendez! Attendez!’

More French.

He hated French. He hated snow. He hated being trapped. He didn’t want to die.

Panicked voices. A siren. More sirens.

But Chase caught Ethan’s eye. Determination shone there as he nodded. ‘Right, let’s go again. I never thought I’d say this to you but, Ethan, I need you to work with me. Everything you’ve got, okay? Or you and I will die here and that, my man, is not the way I want to go. One. Two. Three .’

Next thing he knew Ethan was being dragged over brickwork and snow and something he didn’t even want to imagine but which felt soft and yet bony. And then he was hauling fresh air into suffocating lungs and watching the place where he’d been two seconds earlier disintegrate into rubble and dust and nothing.

And he breathed, sucking in huge gulps of air.

He breathed.

He was alive. Chase Barrington had saved him.

And that was something he’d never have believed possible.

* * *

Later, as the paramedics worked on him, he watched Chase talk to one of the newly arrived search and rescue guys. Saw the slump of his shoulders. The hand whisked across his eyes. Then his view was obliterated by a sudden convoy of vans. Tearful parents pouring out, screaming and sobbing. He craned his neck for his mother or father.

No.

As he’d imagined. He wondered what he’d have to damned well do to get their attention at all.

Then, as he was being shunted into the ambulance, Ethan saw Chase walk away from a woman, leaving her sobbing into the dark night. Ethan called out, ‘Chase! Chase.’