02 Avalanche Pass Read Free Page A

getting his skis downhill until they finally dragged the last few yards of speed off and left him flat on his back, staring up from the hole he’d punched in the snow at Larry’s grinning face.
    “Well, that’s one way to get down.”
    Jesse lay for a few moments, letting his breathing settle into a normal rhythm.
    “I guess I zigged when I should have zagged,” he said finally, taking Larry’s proffered hand and dragging himself upright.
    He was covered head to toe in the light, dry, clinging powder snow. He slapped at it, feeling the inevitable handful slide down the collar of his ski suit and melt instantly into freezing water.
    “Anyone can fall on this steep and deep,” Larry said. “Don’t worry ’bout that. But there’s a technique problem. You’re attacking it too much and you can’t do that in this light stuff.”
    Jesse removed his sunglasses and ran one gloved finger around the inside of the lenses to clear away the packed snow there as Larry continued. “Be a little subtle. You slam that pole into this stuff and it’s going to go all the way in. There’s hardly any resistance there to stop it. So straightaway, you’re putting yourself off balance.” Hehesitated, not sure whether he should say what was coming next. Then he shrugged, mentally, and went ahead anyway.
    “But someone who skis like you, you should know that.”
    He waited. And figured now that whatever problems Jesse had with his skiing, whatever it was that he was hoping Larry could fix, they weren’t physical. They had to do with fear. And the first step toward solving them might well be to get Jesse to admit to them.
    But Jesse refused the overture, replacing the Bolles over his eyes, shutting out the piercing glare of the sun off the snow once more.
    Larry gave a small shrug. He’d tried. All he could do now was discuss the mechanical side of things. He demonstrated Jesse’s mistake, slamming a pole into the deep, soft snow.
    “Now, you do this on all that ice and boilerplate shit they got back east and you’ll maybe get away with it. But here, on Wasatch powder, you got to be subtle, okay?”
    Jesse nodded.
    “Otherwise,” the instructor continued, “this mountain’s going to say to you, ‘Sorry, my friend, but you ain’t going anywhere whiles you’re pounding those big holes in me.’ And then you’re gonna end up flat on your ass every time. Understand?”
    He grinned easily but there was no response. The dark glasses successfully hid Jesse’s eyes, and his thoughts. He simply nodded that yes, he understood. Larry felt a small twinge of frustration. Of course he understood. He was teaching this boy to suck eggs here.
    “Okay,” he said finally, falling back on the professional good humor that every good ski instructor has to have, “now let’s get”— he broke off and put a hand on Jesse’s arm—“Hold it a moment,” he said.
    “What’s the pr—” Jesse began, but then his words were swallowed by a sudden, explosive whoomph from a point in the trees fifty yards below them. There was a momentary bright flash and Jesse threw up one arm in front of his face.
    “Sorry ’bout that,” Larry drawled. “I didn’t know they were firing just yet.”
    He pointed across the valley to the steep, snow-covered cliff face opposite.
    “Keep your eye on that spot to the right of the cornice,” he said and, almost as he spoke, a white puff flew from the snow to be smothered instantly in a larger explosion of flame, smoke and more snow. The muffled thud of the explosion rolled across the valley to them a few seconds later, repeating and echoing as it rolled and bounced from the walls of the valley around them.
    “What the hell was that?” Jesse demanded. Larry kept his eyes riveted on the spot they’d been watching.
    “Just keep looking,” he said. “Don’t see this every day.”
    Jesse looked back. For a few seconds, there was nothing except the smoke and snow drifting slowly in the light breeze above