Orange streaks of light were streaming across the dull grey sky when Brandon finally felt comfortable enough to fall asleep. Jack remained bundled in his sleeping bag staring off into the middle distance. Clare sat there wrapped in her own bag, staring at the rising sun. And Matt finally got some semblance of peaceful sleep after a dreadful night full of nightmares he couldn't shake off.

The driver's dismembered eye haunted him. The clammy wetness of blood petrified him. He woke up with dread several times in the darkness, drenched in sweat, and shivering.

"Matt?" Jack nervously reached his hand out to Matt, who suddenly shot up in fright. "Are you alright? He asked, unsettled by Matt's reaction.

Matt looked at Jack then slowly backed away. Jack, having little idea of what Matt was seeing, stepped closer.

"Stop, please," Matt begged, "stop".

"Stop what, Matt?" Jack halted in his tracks.

"The blood...it's everywhere...make it stop," he screamed.

By now Brandon had woken up. "What's all the commotion about?"

Matt glared at Brandon, his vision clouded by hallucinations of blood.

"Look what you've done!" Jack snapped at Brandon.

"What?" was all Brandon could say.

Clare looked at him with a hint of accusation in her eyes. "You should have thought twice before asking him to go in and get the keys."

"Whoa, wait a minute. You two are blaming me for something he couldn't handle?" Brandon took a step back. Jack looked like he was ready to jump him any minute.

"It's not about whether he can handle it or not" Clare knelt down next to Matt.

"He volunteered. You two were right there listening to it all." Brandon shook his head. "I'm not going to stand here and let you attack me because you are frustrated." He shook his head in disbelief and walked away.

Jack ran his hand through his short blond hair, staring at Brandon's retreating back. Clare watched him walk towards the outskirts of the clearing, beyond the shadow of the bus, and stand in the sunlight.

She saw Jack drop down on the snow, exhausted. She sat down, unable to drag her eyes away from Brandon. She watched his stoic frame standing against the orange dawn sky. Unexpectedly, she felt her heart skip a beat. She was slightly astounded by the fact that she was beginning to like the guy, despite his solitary nature.

She heard Jack mumbling something over and over under his breath. She forced herself to stare him, occasionally looking up towards the road, listening intently for any sound. She directed her gaze skywards before asking Jack what he was doing.

"Listening for any sign of vehicles," he whispered. "So we can yell out for help".

* * *

Glenda asked Helen to stay the night, seeing the woman keel over with worry. Having reluctantly agreed to stay in the White's guest room, she sat on the bed with her children laying either side of her. Worried and wide awake. She stroked their soft hair in a trance. Even without Simon's confirmations, she knew she was already a widow. Her instinct about Paul's latest trip had been quite dark. Terrifyingly dark.

When she came to her senses, she saw morning light filtering through the corner of the windows. She got up off the bed and walked to the bathroom. For a long moment, she stared into the mirror at her wide-eyed frightened self. The woman staring back looked ravaged; pale complexion, blood-shot eyes. Helen weakly shook her head and splashed icy cold water on her face.

Then she walked into the kitchen as quietly as possible to try and get herself a cup of tea.

"Make a cup for me too, love" Glenda pleaded, entering the kitchen. She dragged herself onto a chair at the table.

"Couldn't sleep?" Glenda asked, taking the steaming mug of tea from Helen.

"Couldn't even think about sleep" Helen replied sitting down. "I'm worried sick. I should have gone home last night. Paul could have tried calling home."

Glenda raised the cup to her lips. "I couldn't let you take the children in your state last night."

Helen leaned her head on her hand and sighed. Her stomach churned and she could feel her chest getting tighter. "I wouldn't hurt my kids." A knot formed in her throat.

Glenda nodded, taking another sip. "I know you wouldn't. But the way you were, the children would have begun to worry. They don't need to worry yet."

"Why hasn't your brother called yet?" Helen asked impatiently.

Glenda tenderly patted her friend's arm. "He will, he will. Simon always keeps his promise."

* * *

Around midday, Jack began to pace, agitated. Clare watched him a while, then turned on him. "Jack," she called out, her voice dry and cracked; this was the first word she had uttered in almost three hours.

Jack stopped mid-pace and looked annoyed as if she had interrupted something important. He waited a while for her to speak, but when she remained silent he grumbled. "What?"

She looked at Matt who was still asleep. "He should wake up, and you," she said, "and you...stop this nervous dance, you are starting to tire me out."

Jack shook his head, "I can't help it."

"Just do something else" she begged. "You are making me tense."

He hung his head, pocketed his hands and whispered. "We have to move from this place. We have to get up there on that road."

"We can't move!" They both heard a familiar voice. It was Brandon who had finally decided to join them. "We can't move" he repeated, "not just yet anyway."

"Why?" Jack asked curtly.

Brandon glanced over at Matt. "He's still pretty jumpy. What if he gets spooked halfway up that rock face?"

"He...he won't get spooked." Jack hesitated.

"Can you guarantee it?" Brandon threw back. Jack seemed to crumble under his stare. "I didn't think so."

"But, we really have to move", Jack repeated, desperately. "It's been more than two days and I haven't heard any vehicles. Nothing" He shifted his weight. "I'm beginning to think no one knows about our accident."

"That's not possible, is it?" Clare chimed in. She extended her arm, indicating that she wanted some help to stand up. The guys looked at each other; each extending an arm. Once she was up, she spoke again. "Twenty-odd people are missing. Somebody has to have noticed."

"Let's just hope somebody has," Brandon said flatly. "Has anyone tried to wake him yet?" he turned to Matt.

"No. Why?" Jack asked

"He could freeze to death in his sleep."

"What?" Jack immediately rushed to wake Matt up.

Brandon looked up. His face filling with concern, he bit down intently on his lower lip. "I don't think I can get up there."

Clare stared at him, unsure, "Why?"

Brandon looked at his left arm and turned away.

* * *

Simon thundered through the entrance and hurried into his office, spewing orders behind him.

"Boyd. In my office...Now!" he almost barked as he waited at the doorway. He put his hand in his pocket and brought out his phone which was ringing shrilly.

"Yes, what is it, Glenda? ...Look, I'm doing the best I can at the moment, love. You know that! I'm a bit short on people right now. Call me in an hour, will you, please? Thanks".

He slammed the door as soon as Boyd entered. "Where's Kent this morning? he asked, without a single glance at the nervous rookie standing just inside the doorway.

"Oh, for God's sake, take a seat, boy, haven't got all day!" Simon spewed, throwing his coat on the chair and plunking down. "So?"

Boyd swallowed. "Well, you missed him by ten minutes, sir." Simon nodded, relaxing a bit. Boyd continued. "There was a small pile up on the highway this morning, with a lorry and a couple of cars. He's gone to check it out."

Simon leaned forward at his desk, shifting through a sheaf of papers. "I see Kent found Sam's missing bus?"

"Yes," Boyd answered. "He found it last night illegally parked behind Bryce's Bar."

Simon suddenly sat up straight. "That drunk didn't smash it into Bryce's property, did he? I don't need any more trouble from that skit..."

"No, I don't believe he did, otherwise Bryce would have seen to it that John was locked up."

Simon looked up. "So, why is the bus damaged?"

Boyd shook his head, baffled. "I wouldn't know. You might have to ask Officer Kent that, he was the one who found John lumbering around the bus drunk as hell."

The ringing of Simon's phone cut through the air once more. "What, Glenda? What?" he asked shortly, close to shouting. He listened for a while. He covered the speaker and turned to Boyd. "Has there been anything new from the Lodge, Boyd?" Boyd only shrugged.

Simon removed his hand from the receiver and spoke into it. "Look, I'm working on it. As soon as I know anything, you'll be the first I'll call" and he hung up.

Simon rubbed his eyes. He needed some shut-eye. The call about the highway pile up that morning from Kent had him so angry. What was the point of road closures if people wouldn't follow them for their own safety? And now his sister was constantly hinting at something else untoward. He didn't like it. He didn't like it a bit.

Simon dialed a number by heart. He turned to Boyd. "Send Kent in when he gets back", and with that, the young man was dismissed. "Come on. Pick up the phone, Sam", he mumbled under his breath. Giving up the attempt, Simon hung up. As soon as he put it down, it rang.

Over the line came a voice Simon had not expected. "Simon, its Larry Hanson from the Lodge."

"Yes, Larry, what can I do for you?"

Simon listened intently as Larry voiced his concerns about the bus that was supposed to have arrived a day or so ago.

"And you say it was supposed to have arrived the evening before yesterday?" Simon leaned heavily on his desk.

"Yes. There's still no sign of it and now you announce that the roads up these slopes are closed? What do I do, Simon? My staff and I are still up here, waiting?"

"Yes, I know, Larry. Kent was telling me you believed you were getting a busload of holiday-makers. Are you sure it was this month?"

Larry's voice crackled through the receiver. "Yes, well, I tried to get in contact with Sam to confirm but can't seem to reach him at all..."

"Well..." Simon sighed, "seems everyone's having a hard time tracking him down. Let me try again and see if I can get any information for you, Larry, but keep alert. I might want to evacuate the slopes if the snowfall deepens."

Simon got up, exhausted, grabbed his cell phone again, and walked out of his office. He noticed Kent entering the premises with John in tow.

Suddenly Boyd was running towards Simon. "We've managed to track a stranded vehicle on the slopes..." Out of breath, he continued, "it's registered to Charter King!"

Simon's jaw dropped to the floor. "Damn it!" He immediately dialed Sam's number. Before Sam could even utter the word "Hello", Simon cut in. "Why didn't you tell me you were organizing a trip up those peaks this season? Hadn't I already warned you that the weather isn't very stable?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Simon?" Sam barked.

"Do you know that one of your buses has gone missing?"

"Of, course I did. You think I'm an idiot not to report the incident. I'd be damned if I was going to let John make off with one of my buses."

"John?" Simon questioned, and then comprehension dawned. "That drunk...? We already found him, along with a smashed bus of yours."

"WHAT? Smashed?" Sam raged. "That filthy drunk... He's there, isn't he? John? Let me at him, Simon!"

"Now is not the time, Sam. Tell me about this other bus of yours?" Simon interjected.

Sam carried on about tearing one into John. "Put him on!" he barked at his brother-in-law. Simon reluctantly gave up; there was no getting past Sam until he'd unleashed his anger. Simon motioned to Kent to bring John over.

"Been drink driving behind my wheels again, have you?" Sam barked like a vicious dog.

"I swear, Sam, it was an accident, and the damn animal came from nowhere. I swear I tried to avoid the tree." John nervously answered. "I swear, Sam, I ain't drunk...ask your brother-in-law."

Sam grunted. "Give the damn phone to Simon!"

Simon reached over and took the phone, "Kent, take him away...get him a good strong coffee, still reeks of booze." Then Simon got back on the phone. "So, you were going to tell me about this other bus?"

"What bus, Simon? I don't have any other bus missing...I mean, not technically."

"What do you mean 'not technically'? Boyd just told me that we've tracked one of your buses on that slope."

"Well. It's simple, isn't it? Paul's got it. He was covering John's shift up the mountain." There was a pause. "Why do you ask anyway? Nothing's wrong I hope! And how bad is the damage on my bus?"

John, still hovering around Simon, anxiously spoke. "Simon, tell Sam I'll foot the bill. It was an accident".

Sam barked back at Simon. "Tell that bastard he better pay the damn bill. Better yet, tell him he'll pay the bill and lose the job. How's that for drink driving my bus?"

Simon rolled his eyes at Kent, who could only laugh at the absurd nature of things. Kent grabbed John by the arm and left Simon alone with his attempt at getting some information from Sam. "Sam, don't waste my time!"

"Well, what can I say, Simon. Paul's a safe driver. He probably pulled over. But I have been hearing some news about a severe snow-storm up them peaks."

Simon sighed and dropped down on a chair. "Yes, well, the roads are closed for now."

* * *

"How are you feeling now?" Jack asked walking alongside Matt, towards the other two.

"Okay," Matt mumbled.

"How are you feeling?" Clare asked.

"Why is everyone asking me that?" Matt asked looking from one to the other.

"Well, after what happened yesterday," Brandon said.

"Yeah, well, sorry if I freaked anyone out."

"Don't be silly," Clare smiled warmly. "We're just glad you're okay."

Jack sighed heavily. "So what are we going to do, huh? The road's up there," he looked up with his hands on his hips, "and we are down here."

"We have to get up there on the road somehow." Brandon sat down, exhausted. "It's been a while since we've been here, and just like Jack, I'm beginning to get the strangest feeling that we're going to be here for a long time still."

"Don't say that," Clare mumbled.

"Yeah," Brandon said thoughtfully. "It occurred to me yesterday ... but given the circumstances ... I didn't think it was the right time to say it"

"What's your plan? How are we going to get out of here?" Clare asked.

"I don't know, but we've got to think of something," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair and flinched at sudden pain when they found a forgotten gash near his hairline.

Each one of them dwelled on the thought. Jack subconsciously piled a tiny mountain of snow which stirred something inside Brandon's mind. "Wasn't there a tent among the bags?" he asked.

"Yeah, there was. Why?" Jack looked up.

Brandon stared up at the afternoon sky. "We can haul things up" he whispered.

"And?" Jack looked puzzled.

Brandon sat silently for some time before he spoke again. "Well, if we can find a rope of some sort, then perhaps two of us can go up there and throw it down. We can pull things up in bags..." He shook his head. "We can haul up what we need. Then you'll have to throw down the rope for Clare and me." He said zipping up his jacket.

"Sounds like a good plan, except for our lack of rope" Jack stated flatly.

"Maybe we can find something in there," Brandon said, looking at the bus. "Perhaps a towing device if we can find it."

"So how long do we plan for, a day or two? Matt asked, finally participating in the discussion. "I mean we can't just take things up if we won't need them."

"Days," Clare whispered, "That's too long."

"It could be more," Jack grumbled, his voice sounding hard and flat. "I haven't heard a single vehicle since we've been here. Maybe they've closed the roads..."

Brandon cleared his throat and only then did he realize how dehydrated he had become. His mouth wasn't even salivating anymore. I need water, he thought, and in a throaty voice, he spoke. "We should decide right away, I'd like it very much if we can get ourselves up there on that road before nightfall."

"Shall we go through all the bags you two gathered yesterday?" Clare asked.

"That'd be good."

"What about food?" Jack asked, his question directed more to Brandon.

"Why ... don't we have enough?" Matt asked sombrely.

"Doesn't seem like it," Brandon said lowering his eyes to the white snow.

"What is it?" Clare whispered, leaning slightly closer to him.

"We might get our hands on some more though!" He turned to her, his eyes dancing with excitement, and he smiled.

"How?"

He pointed towards the bus.

"But, Brandon, whatever we left in the luggage compartment, we left because it was soaked with fuel" Jack interjected.

Brandon shook his head. "No, not in there. I'm talking about the passenger section." He spoke again despite their warning looks.

"I remember the couple who sat in the seats in front of me. I remember they had a backpack filled with food." He thought back to the ride, just a few minutes before the crash. "I remember hearing the old man complain to his wife that food would be provided, she didn't need to bring a week's supply with her."

He saw a little change in their expression.

"That's all fine, Brandon, but," Clare sounded unsure, "but who'll go in there to get it?" She was beginning to feel guilty as she was hoping he would volunteer. She somehow felt he was the only one who could go through the ordeal and still come out sane.

Brandon looked at Jack, who avoided his stare. He turned to Matt, who shook his head. "Once was enough."