Chapter 9 - The Blizzard of Blackwood
Winter in Vermont has no mercy. In mid-January of the following year, a historic nor'easter slammed into the Green Mountains, knocking out power lines and dumping four feet of snow within twelve hours. The wind howled through the pines like a roaring locomotive, dropping temperatures to twenty below zero.
From my cabin, I monitored the local police scanner. Around nine that evening, a frantic transmission crackled through the static:
""All units, we have a structural issue on Old Mill Road. The heavy snow has compromised the roof of the Leo's Haven building. Power is out, and reports indicate someone is trapped inside trying to secure the historical archives.""
My heart stopped. Meline.
I didn't think. I threw on my heavy parka, grabbed an axe and a tow chain from the shed, and leaped into my truck. The roads were completely impassable, buried under white drifts that swallowed the headlights. Halfway down the mountain pass, the truck spun out into a ditch.
I kicked the door open and started running.
The wind tore at my face, freezing my eyelashes and stealing the oxygen from my lungs. Every step into the waist-deep snow felt like wading through wet cement. My chest burned with an agony worse than any board meeting, worse than any corporate defeat. Not her, I prayed into the howling whiteout, my boots slipping on hidden ice. Take everything I have left, take my life, but don't take her.
By the time I reached the town square, the roof over the library's rear workshop had buckled under the weight of an ancient oak branch and tons of packed ice. Smoke was beginning to billow from the broken chimney flue.
I smashed through the rear storm door with my shoulder, tumbling into the freezing, shadowy interior.
""Meline!"" I screamed, coughing through the plaster dust and wood smoke.
A weak cough sounded from beneath a collapsed section of shelving near the corner. ""Help... please...""
I threw the splintered beams aside with bleeding hands, adrenaline granting me unnatural strength. I cleared the wreckage and found her curled on the floor, her ankle pinned under a heavy oak bookcase, shivering violently from hypothermia.
""I've got you,"" I gasped, lifting the bookcase with one massive heave and shoving it clear. ""Meline, I've got you.""
She looked up through the dim emergency lantern light, her teeth chattering, her vision blurry. ""Damen...?"" she whispered, thinking she was hallucinating. ""No... it can't be...""
May you like
""Hold onto my neck,"" I ordered gently, stripping off my down parka and wrapping it around her trembling shoulders. I scooped her into my arms, holding her against my chest, shielding her from the biting wind as the ceiling groaned above us.
Just as we cleared the threshold into the blinding snow, the remaining rafters gave way, collapsing into the workshop with a thunderous roar.
