Short story- Off Piste

i wrote this about two years ago. It was the first story I had written in about a decade. I hope you enjoy it!

Off-Piste

Deirdre knew it was going to happen before Becky even landed. As Becky started her 10 foot free fall off of the cliff, Deirdre’s pole fell through the snow beside her. The snow was a heavy powder on the top, but much lighter below, as Deirdre discovered when her pole dropped a foot into the snow.
Becky’s board hit the snow and the entire side of the mountain shifted. Deirdre’s world went into slow motion. A small, pure white island of snow was breaking away and slowly inching its way towards her. She turned to Stefan, but he was already skiing away. She moved to follow him, but it was too late. The avalanche had already reached her. She turned her head to look for Becky, but all she could see was a white wall descending on her.

Deirdre loved winter. It was her favorite season. She relished being outside in the cold. Skiing was one of her favorite pastimes. It had been years since she had been on a real mountain. Skiing in Buffalo was nice, as there was always good snow, but those slopes were more hill than mountain. It took longer to get up the hills on the chairlift than it did to ski down them.
Her first husband was an adequate skier, but not as ambitious about it as Deirdre was. It was a fight to even get him to spend a weekend at a ski resort. He just didn't appreciate the cold like she did. Nothing made her feel more alive than racing down a hill with the wind burning her cheeks.
Her son, Rick, invited her on this grand tour of Europe, a tenth anniversary present to his wife. They needed someone to come along and watch the children. Deirdre’s granddaughters were 9, 7 and 3 and she was elated to be sharing this experience with them. Her one requirement was a stop in the Swiss Alps. She had always wanted to ski the mountains in Europe. It was one of her bucket list items.
Becky, Rick’s wife, was an avid snowboarder and it was decided that they would hire a ski guide to take them up the best slopes and make sure they had a great time. Rick would stay at the resort and keep the girls entertained.
Stefan, their guide for the day, met them in the lobby of their resort. Deirdre’s smile tightened and her eyes bulged a little as she took in this forty-something, stereotype of a Swiss ski guide. He was blonde, with fairly dark skin. His face was chiseled and lined in all of the right places. As they approached him, Deirdre was sure she could hear the “ding!” when he smiled, flashing his iridescent white teeth. She decided that he was definitely an actor in toothpaste commercials during off season.
Stefan greeted them and they were out the door. They chatted a bit as they made their way to the nearest lift. It became clear right away that he was much more interested in Becky than Deirdre. Deirdre hated that. Every time she tried to talk or put in her opinion about where they should go, he redirected the conversation to Becky. Even Becky was starting to notice and giving Deirdre sympathetic looks and trying to bring the conversation back to Deirdre. Stefan didn't notice.
They had made arrangements to eat breakfast at the top of the mountain before they started their venture down. They sat in front of a window that overlooked the Swiss Alps in all their glory. Deirdre immediately forgot her annoyance and held her breath as she gazed out at the panoramic view. She would be skiing down these mountains soon. They looked even taller from the top than from the bottom. The town looked tiny; the cars even smaller than matchboxes. She couldn't make out people at all.
“Mom. Deirdre. Mom!”
Deirdre’s attention snapped back and she looked at Becky.
“Yes?”
“The waiter would like your order.”
“Oh, you order first. I haven't decided, yet.”
“Deirdre, we've both already ordered.”
“I must have been in my own little world!” Deirdre responded, scanning her menu quickly for anything that looked familiar. “Crepes, with strawberries.”
“What would you like to drink with that, madam?” the waiter inquired.
“Just coffee. Black.”
“Very well. Your drinks will be right out.” The waiter’s accent was a thick French, not uncommon in the ski resorts in St. Moritz.
As they ate their breakfast, Becky and Stefan continued their conversation. Deirdre lost all interest in trying to participate. She had no time for people like Stefan. She would follow him down the mountain; Becky would give him a nice tip and they'd go their own ways.
When they started talking about going off-piste, Deirdre’s ears perked up.
Stefan was talking. “I almost always take my clients off-piste. That's why I was assigned to be your guide. Only Americans ask to go off-piste. I know the best places to go.”
This piqued Deirdre’s interest. “I didn't think Europeans were really into going off the trails. I read it was hard to get a guide to do it.”
“Well, I spent part of my teens and twenties in the US and Canada. I caught the American sense of adventure.”
“Ah.” And apparently their appreciation of younger women, Deirdre now understood.
Becky gave Deirdre a searching look and said, “Why don't we do a couple runs down the groomed slopes and maybe, later in the day, we can talk about going off-piste.”
After breakfast, they spent hours going down the identified slopes. This was skiing like Deirdre had never experienced. It could take upwards of a half hour just to descend the mountain. This was the kind of skiing she always wanted. The wind was burning her cheeks as she flew down the hill. Becky was carving up the mountain like crazy. Their joy during this experience was palpable.
Reluctantly, they stopped at about one for lunch. They knew they would need to eat again if they were going to make it to nighttime skiing, which was an experience they both wanted.
“I didn't realize how much it warmed up,” Deirdre said as they walked into the restaurant. “Skiing always makes me immune to the temperature. The only thing I ever pay attention to is the wind blowing across my face.”
“It's still below freezing,” Stefan interjected. “See. It's just starting to snow.”
By the time they were finished with lunch, the air was thick with fat, wet flakes. There was already a new layer of heavy powder on the ground. Stefan and Becky decided that they would try a couple runs off-piste, just so they could say they did it.
The first run down, they stayed within sight of the piste and ran down parallel to it. The second time, they went on the lift that took them to the highest point in the area. Before Stefan could take them down close to the piste, Becky objected.
“Why don't we go down here,” she said, looking at a map and pointing to the area that would eventually join with a trail, but not until three quarters of the way down the mountain. “This looks like a lot of fun. Are there some cliffs I can jump off?”
“Well, yes, but…”
Becky cut Stefan off before he could finish. “This is our only day skiing for our whole trip in Europe! We want the full experience!” she exclaimed with a slight whine in her voice. Deirdre hated it when Becky’s spoiled upbringing came out.
“Ok, but we should stay close together. No riding ahead or leaving anyone behind.”
“Deal.” Becky agreed with a toothy grin.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the point where they would start down, the snow had started to come down heavier.
“Maybe we should go back to the piste.” Deirdre could tell that Stefan wasn't so comfortable. “If the snow comes down harder, we won't be able to see each other.”
“We’ll be fine! It shouldn't take us that long to get back to the piste near the bottom.” Becky angled herself down the hill before there was any more argument. Stefan hissed through his teeth and pushed off to follow her.
Deirdre rolled her eyes, shook her head and pushed off with a little grin. The ungroomed powder on this side of the mountain was glorious. Deirdre was skiing more cautiously than usual. The map that Becky had been looking at showed a lot of drops and Deirdre did not want accidently to go off of one. She sliced up to the other two waiting for her a little way down the mountain. They were talking about finding a cliff for Becky to go off.
“Let me ski ahead a bit. I will wave one pole in the air if I want you to come to me. I will wave both if I’ve found a cliff for you and point in the direction you should go.”
“Understood.”
Becky and Deirdre watched Stefan ski down slowly, checking the fronts of the cliffs. He was skiing between the cliffs, which were barely visible from the top. They looked like little hills with valleys between, but then the hills just fell off on the other side. Stefan stopped at the first drop off and signaled for them to come join him.
“These are too tall. I don’t want to have to carry you down.” He skied down further and signaled again. On the fourth try, he signaled for Becky to go off a cliff.
“You ski down to him first,” Becky told Deirdre, who made her way down and turned to watch.
Becky started slow, wending her way to the cliff, not wanting to take it too fast. Deirdre watched as she flew off the cliff...

Deirdre woke up freezing and unable to move. What had happened? Where was she? She tried to move her arm, to bring her hand to her face but could only wiggle it. It was like she was buried in some freezing substance.
That thought triggered her memory and the events of the day came flooding back over her. The skiing. Going off-piste. Becky triggering an avalanche. Stefan skiing away from her.
The realization that she was buried in snow hit her so hard that she started to hyperventilate. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and knew that this would end badly if she started to freak out.
She focused everything on her breathing and once it went back to normal, she took stock. She tried to move every part of her body. Her left hand moved around fairly freely and bumped into something hard. She felt around and found her pole. There was almost no resistance, so she thought maybe she was close to the surface and not buried deeply like she had first feared.
She tried her other hand and pain shot up her arm. Something was wrong, maybe a sprained or broken wrist. Her right arm was pinned below her, so she focused on the left, using her arm to break up the snow above and around her so she could shift into either a seated or standing position. As soon as she tried lifting her upper body, she sunk deeper in the snow. She would have to pack the snow beneath her, so it would support her weight enough to get out.
She heard a voice above her. “Stefan!” It was Becky. She was very close to Deirdre and must have sighted Stefan. Deirdre started moving around again and trying to make noise.
“Rebecca, my love, are you okay?” Deirdre froze, confusion washing over her.
“Oh Stefan, I watched you ski away, but as the snow started moving faster, I lost sight of you. I was worried that you got caught in it!”
“Rebecca darling, we had this all planned out. You knew what to expect.”
“I know, but I was still worried! I haven’t been this close to you in almost a decade. I didn’t want to lose you again before I could even touch you, kiss you.” Deirdre could hear them kissing above her.
“Did you see where Deirdre ended up?”
“It was somewhere around here, but she’s a goner! She got swallowed by the snow before she even knew what was happening. If she’s not dead, yet, she should be soon. Look, there’s one of her skis.”
“Bury it. We want to be out of here now. No one can see us up here. We’ll be on our flight to Argentina before anyone even notices you’re missing. Disappear into the jungle before you’re pronounced dead.”
“Perfect.”
“Yes, we couldn’t have planned on better weather, either. By the time anyone starts looking, our tracks will be covered with a fresh layer of snow.”
“That will be hours from now. The only person who knows we’re out here is Rick, and he is busy with the girls. He won’t start to worry until he gets them to bed.”
Deirdre took in all of this without moving a muscle or making a sound. She heard them head down the mountain and started moving again. She used her body weight to pack the snow beneath her. Snow started to fall in on her and she just kept using it to solidify her base so she could crawl out. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get down the mountain without her skis, but she wasn’t giving up yet.
Finally, after an hour of packing, she stuck her head out of the snow. It was already getting dark and the snow was starting to slow down. She tried to stand up on the snow and ended up buried up to her waist again. How was she going to get down?
As she started to move around on all fours, looking for her skis, she heard a helicopter flying above. She got her pole, got on her knees and started waving it. She could see a spotlight about a hundred yards to her left. She crawled in that direction, trying to keep the pole up and waving. The light moved right over her and kept on going. Deirdre almost gave up hope until the area around her lit up again.
She was saved, and she was going to make sure Becky and Stefan were caught before they could board their plane.

Rick wasn’t ready to face Becky. The girls had no idea what was going on, yet. Deirdre got into the police car alone and the inspector laid out everything he knew as he drove her to the station. Stefan had reconnected with Becky over a year ago and convinced her to take him back. They had spent the whole time since contriving the plan they had executed the day before. Their only mistake was in underestimating Deirdre.
They didn’t know she had survived, and she wanted to see Becky’s face when she realized what had happened.

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If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment!

And make sure to check out my other stories!

https://steemit.com/story/@jadegreene/short-fiction-surviving

https://steemit.com/fiction/@jadegreene/short-story-the-waiting-game

https://steemit.com/fiction/@jadegreene/flash-fiction-tessa