An Dannsa Sìth : Prologue part 1
An Dannsa Sìth
Ro-ràdh : An Tubaist (the Accident)
New Year's Eve
Candlepin Mountain
Westbow County
"Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it SNOOOOOOW!"
Bellowing out the song, holding the last word, Big Buck pounded both hands on the driving wheel, laughing as the SUV wobbled on the road.
"Watch it! Are you trying to wreck us?" Jace yelped, trying to grab it and get them back on the right side.
Outside, fat, wet flakes fell fast and heavy, splatting on the windscreen, wipers working overtime to push the clumps off to each side. The side windows were completely covered. The rear window was a pattern of thin lines from the defroster and the triangle produced by the back wiper.
Buck blocked the move easily laughing. He rocked the wheel again, deliberately, causing the car to careen from one side to the other as he mocked his companion. "Oooo! Is widdle Jacey scared?"
He snorted, scoffing. "Relax. I've been driving this road since I was twelve. Just loosen up, why don't you. Have a beer. On the house. " As if reminded, he picked up the bottle in the cupholder beside him, took a sip, then burst out laughing, spraying malted beer over the inside windshield. "On the wheel. Not the house!" Sniggering, he took another slug, belched with satisfaction. "I bet I can make this drive with my eyes closed. Wanna see?"
"No," Jace state firmly. "I'd rather get there in one piece."
"God, you're such an old lady, Jace. I can't imagine why I invited you to this shindig. You're such a stick in the mud."
Jace wondered that himself.
New Year's Eve and Big Buck had just happened to invite about twenty of his closest friends, frat brothers and fellow football players, to help him see the New Year in at the family lodge at the top of Candlepin Mountain in Westbow County.
Strictly speaking, Jace hadn't been invited to Buck's New Year's Eve party. Like Buck and the others, he was a student at Bowbridge University. Unlike them, he wasn't particularly athletic and he wasn't anything like rich. He was at University on a scholarship, which covered tuition and books, everything else he had to work to cover. Which was why he was there with Buck. On the road, heading up the side of a mountain, in the middle of a snowstorm that looked like it was getting worse by the minute.
He and Buck had been classmates at Westerly Academy. Buck, or rather Charles Edwin Buckminster the fourth as he was officially known, not that anyone ever called him that unless he was in a boatload of trouble. Buck he was then. The 'Big' came later.
Anyway, Buck had been the golden boy. A natural athlete, son and grandson of alumni, heir to a fortune considered decently old, scion of a family that literally wrote the history of Westbow County, one noted for its generous charitable donations, among which was the Buckminster scholarship fund. Jace had won that, he'd never have been able to attend Westerly or any other Academy otherwise.
Jason Walker was the eldest of five, son of an electrician and schoolteacher. Not above average height, a bit lean of build, intelligent and a bit brusque as a result. And not particularly athletically inclined.
The two boys could not have been more different, but they struck up an odd sort of partnership; Jace providing the tutoring Buck needed to pass some of his classes; Buck teaching Jace how to deal with the snobs and bullies that abounded at places like Westerly.
And when Big Buck realized that comestibles of a liquid nature might be in danger of running short before the ball dropped, it was Jace he tapped to serve as co-pilot.
Buck turned his head, owlishly studying Jace. "What's wrong with you, man? I thought you'd appreciate a chance to kick back and just relax. You can't really want to be working over Break, can you?"
"Eyes on the road," Jace snapped.
Truth was, he would prefer to not work over the holiday. He would have loved to have gone home to visit with the family, but it just wasn't possible this year. The scholarship to University provided only for tuition and books; everything else, room, board, extras, he had to provide, it wasn't fair of him to ask his parents to shoulder the burden. If he weren't here, he would be in one of the temporary dorms at University, with all the other students who had nowhere to go for the holidays, probably working retail. Not for the first time he thought that might just be preferable.
It wasn't Buck. Or rather, it wasn't entirely Buck. His old friend once again needed help with some classes. A little extra tutoring, and Jace was happy to provide it, if only Buck were willing to accept. The fee Buck's dad was ... very attractive. If Jace had known ... if he'd had any idea that Buck would be inviting a bunch of his college buddies to help him see the New Year in ...
... he'd still have agreed. The money was just that good. And as annoying as Buck could be sometimes, he wasn't all that bad a person - deep down. Not like some of the others up at the top of the mountain in the lodge. They were bad through and through. Snobs of a first water and bullies to boot.
"Whoops! Dead soldier!" Buck chortled. He powered his window down, tossed the empty bottle out. "Get me another one, willya?"
"Perhaps you could wait until we reach the lodge?" Jace suggested.
"You're not my mother. Or my father. Get me another one now!"
And there was the problem in a nutshell. Buck had been a pretty decent friend, once upon a time. "Big" Buck was another kettle of fish entirely. When he moved into the frat house, he came under the influence of some of the less savory of his so-called brothers. That and the experience of being a BMOC - big man on campus - combined to bring about less than positive changes to his personality.
"How far are we from the top?" Jace asked.
"Then I'll get it myself."
Everything happened at once.
Big Buck twisted to reach for the open six-pack behind him. A sudden squall created almost white-out conditions - almost. The SUV swerved, Jace caught a glimpse of a figure on the road ahead of them - a deer. He shouted and grabbed for the wheel. Buck sprang back to face forward, fighting him for control and stamping on the brake. The vehicle skidded, out of control, spun, and went off the road.
~~*~~
The horn was blaring nonstop.
He was hanging sideways, caught up in straps, something pressing against him. Hard to breathe. His nose hurt. His head ...
Jace opened his eyes, all he could see in front of him was white. Air bag. He pushed against it and it gave. His right shoulder was flush against the window. The tumble had knocked the snow off the glass; he could see a vast nothing on that side.
Buck was on his left, seat belt holding him in place, air bag inflated from the steering column. Frighteningly still, blood streaming down his face.
"Buck?"
For a heart-stopping minute, Jace feared the worst. Then Buck groaned, made a face of disgust and pain, shook his head and pushed against the air bag. His face worked further.
"I'm gonna hurl."
"Buck! Don't ..."
Too late. The angle at which they lay sent the worst of the vomitus on to Jace, triggering the rising of his own gorge. He tried to hold it in but ... couldn't. Sick slicked the deflated air bag, the window surface, every inch of his clothes it seemed, inspiring further waves of nausea until there was nothing left.
"Damn it, Buck, open the window!" Jace forced the words out through the overwhelming gag reflex. His guts were trying to turn him inside out.
"Can't. Engine's off."
He'd take comfort in knowing that Buck was in no better shape if they were upright. Or angled the other way.
"So turn it back on."
"I'm trying! It's just not ... It's not turning over!"
Raging with desperate irritation, Jace reached up, pushed Buck's hand away from the ignition button and pressed down. The engine roared to life. Not trusting Buck, Jace joggled the front panel controls for the windows on the drivers' side of the car. Cold air roared in. Fresh air. Not enough to clear away the stink of sick, but it helped. He turned the car off again then started fumbling with the seat belt release. Gloves made his fingers clumsy, but the buckle was gross with vomit and didn't want to work.
"Why the hell you do that for?" Buck demanded, jabbing the ignition button. "It's cold. We need the heat." Nothing happened. The engine was dead.
"We need to get out of here." Freeing himself, Jace twisted, bracing himself against the window and door on his side and craned his head to examine their situation. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Can you open the door?"
If Buck couldn't, they'd have to climb out the window.
"We need to stay with the car. Look, it's set to call Roadside Assistance as soon as there's an accident. Automatic. We just need to sit tight and they'll be here in no time."
The tone of sweet reason was almost enough to make Jace lose his temper. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and immediately gagged; even with the windows open the punk was bad.
"There are two very thin trees holding us here and a sharp drop-off immediately to our right," he responded tightly, trying for the calm patience that usually worked best for making Buck understand something difficult. "If either one snaps, we'll be down at the bottom long before any help can get out of their garage."
Buck looked past him, blinked, let out a profane curse and began fighting with the door handle. He tried to dive out but the seat belt strap jerked him back and the door slammed shut. The car shifted with his weight, the trees groaning with effort, making him even more frantic to escape. Second try, he made it, falling to the ground and bumping against the side of the car, causing it to rock against the holding trees again.
Jace held his breath until it settled. He moved carefully, smoothly, bracing his feet against the door, climbing over the center to the driver's seat, stretching to reach the door handle on that side. Before he got his hand on it, though, it opened again. Buck reached in with his other hand, grabbed hold by Jace's coat front and pulled him free of the vehicle. They both dropped to the ground, panting with adrenaline.
After a few minutes, however, Buck stood, made his way to the rear of the SUV. He opened the hatch.
"Buck, be careful."
Buck waved a hand at him, reached in and pulled out something, hissing with triumph. "Yes! For the win!" He raised both hands, shaking the bottles he held. Whisky. Jace had argued against getting those, but Buck had insisted. That ID shouldn't have fooled anyone, but the clerk hadn't even looked at it when they made the purchase.
"Leave them. We gotta get back to the road."
Buck ignored him, set the bottles carefully down and went back to the open compartment, reached in. Things had shifted in the accident. He tossed stuffed out of his way, over his shoulder, before apparently finding what he was looking for. He was just straightening up, pulling his head and upper body out of the SUV, when one of the trees made a loud sound of protest, followed by the scream of wood breaking. Jace called out, sprang to his feet and tackled Buck to the ground, away from the vehicle. The tree gave way and the car went tumbling, rolling over and over as it resumed its fall down the side of the mountain.
"Oh man! All that beer, gone!" Buck mourned, looked down with an expression of loss. Then he brightened. "But I saved these... " He started to pick up the six packs of beer he'd retrieved from the vehicle and his face fell again. "You broke them. What are we gonna do now?"
"Buck, you could have ... if that tree had given way even a second earlier ..."
"This one's okay," Buck announced. He twisted the cap off and chugged half the contents down in one go. Then he held it out to Jace. "You want some. It's the only one you didn't break."
With a mental shrug, Jace accepted the bottle, took a healthy swallow. Anything to take the taste of sick out of his mouth. Aware of Buck waiting with pointed patience, he took another more hasty sip and handed the bottle back before struggling to rise.
"Come on. We gotta get back up to the road. Hopefully one of your friends can come get us." He took out his mobile, switched it on and checked for coverage. "No bars." Not a surprise. "Do you have any?"
"Hmm? What ... ? Oh, yeah. I should. Let me see." Buck frowned down at his device. "It's broken. It's not even turning on. Nothing at all. Piece of shit. Do you know how much I paid for this?" He drew his arm back, threw it as far away as he could. Jack shook his head, resigned.
"All right. Fine. We've got two choices here, as I see it. We can follow the car down to the foot of the mountain and wait for Roadside Assistance to find us or ..."
"Wait ...Why? Won't they come here? This is where the accident actually happened, you know."
Jace shook his head.
"They use the car's GPS." Buck waited. "The GPS in the SUV. To find it." Still Buck waited, the shoe hadn't dropped yet. Jace pointed. "Down there. As in, not here."
"Oh." Buck turned, leaning forward a bit to look as far down as he could as though he thought he could spot the vehicle. "Right. yeah, we don't want to do that." He looked back at Jace. "So what do we do then?"
"We head up to the lodge."
Buck wouldn't leave without the liquor. Jace found a backpack among the debris Buck had tossed out of his way, a backpack containing the textbooks that Buck had insisted he'd forgotten back at Bowbridge. Leaving the books in place, Jace fitted in not only the two bottles of whisky but also a couple of bottles of beer that had also survived the accident and subsequent take-down. Then he handed the backpack over to Buck. When the latter protested, Jace quite reasonably pointed out that Buck was bigger, stronger and more fit. Accepting the validity of the statements, Buck put the pack on his back and the two began climbing. Reaching the road, Jace proposed following it to the lodge. Buck disagreed.
"It's a switchback road, we'd end up walking three, four times further than we have to. I say we cut straight up. Be there in no time. I don't know about you, but I'm freezing." Cold and shocky, Jace agreed, especially after Buck promised that he knew the way like he knew the back of his hand. Leaving the road, they entered the woods.
Prologue, part 2
Ro-ràdh : An Tubaist (the Accident)
New Year's Eve
Candlepin Mountain
Westbow County
"Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it SNOOOOOOW!"
Bellowing out the song, holding the last word, Big Buck pounded both hands on the driving wheel, laughing as the SUV wobbled on the road.
"Watch it! Are you trying to wreck us?" Jace yelped, trying to grab it and get them back on the right side.
Outside, fat, wet flakes fell fast and heavy, splatting on the windscreen, wipers working overtime to push the clumps off to each side. The side windows were completely covered. The rear window was a pattern of thin lines from the defroster and the triangle produced by the back wiper.
Buck blocked the move easily laughing. He rocked the wheel again, deliberately, causing the car to careen from one side to the other as he mocked his companion. "Oooo! Is widdle Jacey scared?"
He snorted, scoffing. "Relax. I've been driving this road since I was twelve. Just loosen up, why don't you. Have a beer. On the house. " As if reminded, he picked up the bottle in the cupholder beside him, took a sip, then burst out laughing, spraying malted beer over the inside windshield. "On the wheel. Not the house!" Sniggering, he took another slug, belched with satisfaction. "I bet I can make this drive with my eyes closed. Wanna see?"
"No," Jace state firmly. "I'd rather get there in one piece."
"God, you're such an old lady, Jace. I can't imagine why I invited you to this shindig. You're such a stick in the mud."
Jace wondered that himself.
New Year's Eve and Big Buck had just happened to invite about twenty of his closest friends, frat brothers and fellow football players, to help him see the New Year in at the family lodge at the top of Candlepin Mountain in Westbow County.
Strictly speaking, Jace hadn't been invited to Buck's New Year's Eve party. Like Buck and the others, he was a student at Bowbridge University. Unlike them, he wasn't particularly athletic and he wasn't anything like rich. He was at University on a scholarship, which covered tuition and books, everything else he had to work to cover. Which was why he was there with Buck. On the road, heading up the side of a mountain, in the middle of a snowstorm that looked like it was getting worse by the minute.
He and Buck had been classmates at Westerly Academy. Buck, or rather Charles Edwin Buckminster the fourth as he was officially known, not that anyone ever called him that unless he was in a boatload of trouble. Buck he was then. The 'Big' came later.
Anyway, Buck had been the golden boy. A natural athlete, son and grandson of alumni, heir to a fortune considered decently old, scion of a family that literally wrote the history of Westbow County, one noted for its generous charitable donations, among which was the Buckminster scholarship fund. Jace had won that, he'd never have been able to attend Westerly or any other Academy otherwise.
Jason Walker was the eldest of five, son of an electrician and schoolteacher. Not above average height, a bit lean of build, intelligent and a bit brusque as a result. And not particularly athletically inclined.
The two boys could not have been more different, but they struck up an odd sort of partnership; Jace providing the tutoring Buck needed to pass some of his classes; Buck teaching Jace how to deal with the snobs and bullies that abounded at places like Westerly.
And when Big Buck realized that comestibles of a liquid nature might be in danger of running short before the ball dropped, it was Jace he tapped to serve as co-pilot.
Buck turned his head, owlishly studying Jace. "What's wrong with you, man? I thought you'd appreciate a chance to kick back and just relax. You can't really want to be working over Break, can you?"
"Eyes on the road," Jace snapped.
Truth was, he would prefer to not work over the holiday. He would have loved to have gone home to visit with the family, but it just wasn't possible this year. The scholarship to University provided only for tuition and books; everything else, room, board, extras, he had to provide, it wasn't fair of him to ask his parents to shoulder the burden. If he weren't here, he would be in one of the temporary dorms at University, with all the other students who had nowhere to go for the holidays, probably working retail. Not for the first time he thought that might just be preferable.
It wasn't Buck. Or rather, it wasn't entirely Buck. His old friend once again needed help with some classes. A little extra tutoring, and Jace was happy to provide it, if only Buck were willing to accept. The fee Buck's dad was ... very attractive. If Jace had known ... if he'd had any idea that Buck would be inviting a bunch of his college buddies to help him see the New Year in ...
... he'd still have agreed. The money was just that good. And as annoying as Buck could be sometimes, he wasn't all that bad a person - deep down. Not like some of the others up at the top of the mountain in the lodge. They were bad through and through. Snobs of a first water and bullies to boot.
"Whoops! Dead soldier!" Buck chortled. He powered his window down, tossed the empty bottle out. "Get me another one, willya?"
"Perhaps you could wait until we reach the lodge?" Jace suggested.
"You're not my mother. Or my father. Get me another one now!"
And there was the problem in a nutshell. Buck had been a pretty decent friend, once upon a time. "Big" Buck was another kettle of fish entirely. When he moved into the frat house, he came under the influence of some of the less savory of his so-called brothers. That and the experience of being a BMOC - big man on campus - combined to bring about less than positive changes to his personality.
"How far are we from the top?" Jace asked.
"Then I'll get it myself."
Everything happened at once.
Big Buck twisted to reach for the open six-pack behind him. A sudden squall created almost white-out conditions - almost. The SUV swerved, Jace caught a glimpse of a figure on the road ahead of them - a deer. He shouted and grabbed for the wheel. Buck sprang back to face forward, fighting him for control and stamping on the brake. The vehicle skidded, out of control, spun, and went off the road.
~~*~~
The horn was blaring nonstop.
He was hanging sideways, caught up in straps, something pressing against him. Hard to breathe. His nose hurt. His head ...
Jace opened his eyes, all he could see in front of him was white. Air bag. He pushed against it and it gave. His right shoulder was flush against the window. The tumble had knocked the snow off the glass; he could see a vast nothing on that side.
Buck was on his left, seat belt holding him in place, air bag inflated from the steering column. Frighteningly still, blood streaming down his face.
"Buck?"
For a heart-stopping minute, Jace feared the worst. Then Buck groaned, made a face of disgust and pain, shook his head and pushed against the air bag. His face worked further.
"I'm gonna hurl."
"Buck! Don't ..."
Too late. The angle at which they lay sent the worst of the vomitus on to Jace, triggering the rising of his own gorge. He tried to hold it in but ... couldn't. Sick slicked the deflated air bag, the window surface, every inch of his clothes it seemed, inspiring further waves of nausea until there was nothing left.
"Damn it, Buck, open the window!" Jace forced the words out through the overwhelming gag reflex. His guts were trying to turn him inside out.
"Can't. Engine's off."
He'd take comfort in knowing that Buck was in no better shape if they were upright. Or angled the other way.
"So turn it back on."
"I'm trying! It's just not ... It's not turning over!"
Raging with desperate irritation, Jace reached up, pushed Buck's hand away from the ignition button and pressed down. The engine roared to life. Not trusting Buck, Jace joggled the front panel controls for the windows on the drivers' side of the car. Cold air roared in. Fresh air. Not enough to clear away the stink of sick, but it helped. He turned the car off again then started fumbling with the seat belt release. Gloves made his fingers clumsy, but the buckle was gross with vomit and didn't want to work.
"Why the hell you do that for?" Buck demanded, jabbing the ignition button. "It's cold. We need the heat." Nothing happened. The engine was dead.
"We need to get out of here." Freeing himself, Jace twisted, bracing himself against the window and door on his side and craned his head to examine their situation. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Can you open the door?"
If Buck couldn't, they'd have to climb out the window.
"We need to stay with the car. Look, it's set to call Roadside Assistance as soon as there's an accident. Automatic. We just need to sit tight and they'll be here in no time."
The tone of sweet reason was almost enough to make Jace lose his temper. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and immediately gagged; even with the windows open the punk was bad.
"There are two very thin trees holding us here and a sharp drop-off immediately to our right," he responded tightly, trying for the calm patience that usually worked best for making Buck understand something difficult. "If either one snaps, we'll be down at the bottom long before any help can get out of their garage."
Buck looked past him, blinked, let out a profane curse and began fighting with the door handle. He tried to dive out but the seat belt strap jerked him back and the door slammed shut. The car shifted with his weight, the trees groaning with effort, making him even more frantic to escape. Second try, he made it, falling to the ground and bumping against the side of the car, causing it to rock against the holding trees again.
Jace held his breath until it settled. He moved carefully, smoothly, bracing his feet against the door, climbing over the center to the driver's seat, stretching to reach the door handle on that side. Before he got his hand on it, though, it opened again. Buck reached in with his other hand, grabbed hold by Jace's coat front and pulled him free of the vehicle. They both dropped to the ground, panting with adrenaline.
After a few minutes, however, Buck stood, made his way to the rear of the SUV. He opened the hatch.
"Buck, be careful."
Buck waved a hand at him, reached in and pulled out something, hissing with triumph. "Yes! For the win!" He raised both hands, shaking the bottles he held. Whisky. Jace had argued against getting those, but Buck had insisted. That ID shouldn't have fooled anyone, but the clerk hadn't even looked at it when they made the purchase.
"Leave them. We gotta get back to the road."
Buck ignored him, set the bottles carefully down and went back to the open compartment, reached in. Things had shifted in the accident. He tossed stuffed out of his way, over his shoulder, before apparently finding what he was looking for. He was just straightening up, pulling his head and upper body out of the SUV, when one of the trees made a loud sound of protest, followed by the scream of wood breaking. Jace called out, sprang to his feet and tackled Buck to the ground, away from the vehicle. The tree gave way and the car went tumbling, rolling over and over as it resumed its fall down the side of the mountain.
"Oh man! All that beer, gone!" Buck mourned, looked down with an expression of loss. Then he brightened. "But I saved these... " He started to pick up the six packs of beer he'd retrieved from the vehicle and his face fell again. "You broke them. What are we gonna do now?"
"Buck, you could have ... if that tree had given way even a second earlier ..."
"This one's okay," Buck announced. He twisted the cap off and chugged half the contents down in one go. Then he held it out to Jace. "You want some. It's the only one you didn't break."
With a mental shrug, Jace accepted the bottle, took a healthy swallow. Anything to take the taste of sick out of his mouth. Aware of Buck waiting with pointed patience, he took another more hasty sip and handed the bottle back before struggling to rise.
"Come on. We gotta get back up to the road. Hopefully one of your friends can come get us." He took out his mobile, switched it on and checked for coverage. "No bars." Not a surprise. "Do you have any?"
"Hmm? What ... ? Oh, yeah. I should. Let me see." Buck frowned down at his device. "It's broken. It's not even turning on. Nothing at all. Piece of shit. Do you know how much I paid for this?" He drew his arm back, threw it as far away as he could. Jack shook his head, resigned.
"All right. Fine. We've got two choices here, as I see it. We can follow the car down to the foot of the mountain and wait for Roadside Assistance to find us or ..."
"Wait ...Why? Won't they come here? This is where the accident actually happened, you know."
Jace shook his head.
"They use the car's GPS." Buck waited. "The GPS in the SUV. To find it." Still Buck waited, the shoe hadn't dropped yet. Jace pointed. "Down there. As in, not here."
"Oh." Buck turned, leaning forward a bit to look as far down as he could as though he thought he could spot the vehicle. "Right. yeah, we don't want to do that." He looked back at Jace. "So what do we do then?"
"We head up to the lodge."
Buck wouldn't leave without the liquor. Jace found a backpack among the debris Buck had tossed out of his way, a backpack containing the textbooks that Buck had insisted he'd forgotten back at Bowbridge. Leaving the books in place, Jace fitted in not only the two bottles of whisky but also a couple of bottles of beer that had also survived the accident and subsequent take-down. Then he handed the backpack over to Buck. When the latter protested, Jace quite reasonably pointed out that Buck was bigger, stronger and more fit. Accepting the validity of the statements, Buck put the pack on his back and the two began climbing. Reaching the road, Jace proposed following it to the lodge. Buck disagreed.
"It's a switchback road, we'd end up walking three, four times further than we have to. I say we cut straight up. Be there in no time. I don't know about you, but I'm freezing." Cold and shocky, Jace agreed, especially after Buck promised that he knew the way like he knew the back of his hand. Leaving the road, they entered the woods.
Prologue, part 2