March Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Unforeseen Events

Time Setting: 2018

Genre: Life

Minimum Word Goal: 90,000

Timespan: July–August

Locations: Toronto, Ontario; Major, Saskatchewan

Main Characters: Sheldon Gallagher, Emil Owens

Background Information:

Born the only son and youngest child of three, Sheldon has lived something of a lonesome existence, at home, at least; once he succeeded in making some friends at school — which took awhile — he had some companionship, but only when he wasn't home.

Being both the youngest child and only son has led to Sheldon developing a willful personality which his mother, for one, has struggled to control. His father has been more effective at talking him out of his stubborn holdouts, but, due to his busy work schedule as a high-level executive in a major international company's Canadian headquarters, he's not around often.

Unfortunately, his father has also been recently arrested and charged with fraud that led to him pocketing well over $1,000,000 illegally. Appalled at her husband's actions, his mother has decided to get a divorce, which would leave him wholly in her custody — which, admittedly, neither Sheldon or his mother are looking forward to.

Having liked his father, Sheldon is also distraught that his father would commit fraud, much less that his mother would try and take his father from him entirely, and so has rebelled against her viciously, leaving her completely at her wits' end as to what to do to get him under control.

Born the seventh child and youngest son of nine children, Emil spent his childhood unworried by the Second World War that raged in Europe and Asia, even though his father served among the soldiers in Europe.

His father returned home uninjured, but wasn't really home all that long before war broke out in Korea and he was called up to serve. Emil's oldest brother joined him in the military, but didn't get to Korea before the war was over.

A year away from the war's end, word reached Emil's family that his father had been killed, which left his oldest brother as the father-figure for Emil and his younger sisters — who were more than ten years younger than their older siblings.

Additionally, Emil's second brother took over running the farm, which their grandfather had settled, being as he was more interested in staying home and working the land.

His oldest brother was more personable, and for a young boy of ten, the life of a soldier was more glamorous than that of a farmer, thus Emil took to idolising his oldest brother and hoping that, one day, he could join the military too.

Even when he reached the age of eighteen this dream persisted and so he announced his intent to enlist. His second brother was unimpressed and the two had a set-to that ended in an acrimonious parting with Emil enlisting in the army.

He'd wanted to be a part of the air force, where his brother served, but he ended up being placed as a mechanic for ground vehicles in an infantry unit. This was initially disappointing for him, but being as there was no end to work that needed to be done, eventually he found himself content.

Having been stationed far from the small town in Saskatchewan he'd been born and raised in, Emil took advantage of the opportunity to meet local girls and found a highly attractive young woman who stole his heart. The two were married and started a family as soon as her family would allow.

In 1974 Emil and his wife welcomed their sixth and final child. In spite of the new little one, tragedy rocked Emil when his brother was one of nine killed when their helicopter was shot down in the Middle East, where his brother was stationed on a peacekeeping mission.

If not for his loving wife, Emil would surely have taken his life, but her loving care pulled him through the dark times, and, all too soon, into some more dark times.

When their youngest child, who was a daughter, got into her teens, she chafed against the somewhat militaristic discipline Emil enforced at home, leading the two to get into frequent arguments until she moved out of the house and in with a boyfriend as soon as she turned eighteen.

Devastated at his daughter's actions, Emil tried to reconcile with her, but to no avail, so he turned his efforts to his second brother, but they were no more fruitful.

Emil served in the army until the age of 60, when he retired and moved his wife back to his hometown, where he used his mechanical skills to restore old cars, which he'd always had an interest in.

Unfortunately, his wife was only able to share retirement with him for four years before illness claimed her life, which left Emil alone. His children comforted him through the loss, which wasn't as hard-hitting due to the fact that he'd been able to see it coming.

He still lives in his hometown restoring cars — which has given him a reputation that has prompted people to commission him to restore their cars — and doing his best to try and reconcile with his brother and his daughter, but as yet, no success has come to him in those endeavours.

Frigid Revenge: Day 20

Word Total: 120,006

Year to Date: 210,007

Summary of Events:

After having been checked over by a doctor just to be safe, Charlie wandered around getting contact information from people she wanted — and needed — to keep in contact with. Oakley got the stitches in his face removed before finding out that Sabrina had already left, and he suspected that she thought he was dead, but had no way of contacting her to let her know he was alright. Charlie reflected on all that happened post-escape . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"As hard as it'd been to say goodbye to everyone — even though she knew it was by no means goodbye forever — she'd done it, and she'd gotten all the essential phone numbers, which she'd written down in her sketchbook so that she could wash them off her arm.

Now Charlie was sharing a hotel room with Mom in Denver while Dad stayed with the boys next door. They were scheduled to fly back to Cranbrook around noon tomorrow, then they'd get ready for what would probably be the most surreal Christmas of Charlie's life.

But then again, Charlie was pretty sure everything was going to feel surreal for awhile, far longer than the reality of being a hostage had felt the same.

She'd just been cooped up in a hotel because she'd happen to be there and seen things she never would've ever wanted to see, made unexpected friends, experienced horrible losses, done things she never would've thought she'd do, and now she was just supposed to go back to normal, everyday life?

It was almost inconceivable. How could she possibly feel normal after such an experience? She might eventually, but she was sure that she would remember far more of the experience than she wanted to, and she would remember it for far longer than she wanted to.

Glancing up at the TV — which Mom had on, but muted — Charlie read the closed captioning of what Mr. Rothwell was saying as a camera showed footage of all of them milling around outside earlier in the day.

It had been confirmed that Mr. Meyer had been found dead by a self-inflicted wound in her room — which made her glad they hadn't been allowed to go back into their own rooms — which meant there would be no charges.

Also revealed was that, although the kitchen staff had been alive and well, and had been able to be released by the escapees — apparently initiated by Dr. Reimann from what Charlie had heard before they'd left — all the other hotel staff had been found murdered in parts of the hotel where the hostages hadn't been allowed.

So, technically, Brogan hadn't been the first victim, he'd been more along the lines of the twenty fifth or something.

According to the news the hotel was going to be shut down for repairs and cleaning indefinitely, although there were questions as to whether the owners would even elect to reopen the place due to what had happened.

Charlie was pretty sure no one else would buy the hotel and remodel it, unless the owners had plans of demolishing the building and building a whole new hotel that looked nothing like the old one, just to make sure their guests weren't paranoid about sleeping in a room where someone had died, or laying on a bed a corpse had occupied.

For herself, Charlie wasn't sure if she'd be inclined to go back to that hotel again, it would be odd to return to a place that was once a prison for her."

Next post: February 28.

Frigid Revenge: Day 19

Word Count: 114,081

Summary of Events:

Oakley woke up at the sound of an explosion and realised a door-bomb had gone off, but the hotel was still standing; he found out that the elevator-lode of nitroglycerin had been a lie and started getting people to evacuate. Mr. Meyer got into Charlie, Chrissa, and Orelia's room as they were trying to leave and held them at gunpoint shooting — but, thankfully, only wounding — both Chrissa and Orelia before Oakley was able to bash through a wall and get in. Oakley fought Mr. Meyer for control of the gun while both Chrissa and Orelia managed to get out, and Pierce managed to get in and got Charlie out, while Oakley continued the struggle . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"A rough, haggard-sounding laugh issued from Mr. Meyer's throat.

"You're trying to be the hero," Mr. Meyer said, sounding in severe pain.

"I'm trying to defeat you," Oakley said. "The PED-powered weakling."

"PED?" Mr. Meyer asked.

"Performance enhancing drugs," Oakley replied. "That is the only way you can be holding your own against me. I should've annihilated you long ago."

"You're too smart for your own good," Mr. Meyer swore.

Oakley smiled. That had actually just been a wild guess.

"I should've killed you first," Mr. Meyer growled.

"I look too much like Travis for you," Oakley said smugly. "You'll never kill me."

"I have one shot left," Mr. Meyer spat.

"What do you think Travis would think about all you've done?" Oakley asked.

Mr. Meyer roared, his whole body trembling.

"Would he really think you were a loving man, considering how you've murdered others who loved what he loved, and have done so for no legitimate reason?" Oakley asked.

Mr. Meyer swore.

"Would he really appreciate all this carnage in the name of revenge?" Oakley asked.

"You all got him killed!" Mr. Meyer roared.

"I was eight when he rode," Oakley replied. "I hadn't even considered the idea of riding professionally for myself."

"You killed him!" Mr. Meyer shouted. "All of you killed him!"

Oakley said nothing; he'd noticed the tears escaping out the corner of Mr. Meyer's eyes and streaming back toward his hair.

"You took everything from me!" Mr. Meyer cried.

"He killed himself," Oakley said. "You can't blame someone for it."

"You killed him!" Mr. Meyer shouted.

"No," Oakley said quietly. "If anyone killed him, it was you."

Mr. Meyer looked at Oakley with enraged horror.

"You were the person who was supposed to care about him the most, and as much as you may've thought you were caring about him, he didn't," Oakley said. "Because if he would've thought you cared he wouldn't be dead. You killed him."

"No!" Mr. Meyer shouted, looking tortured.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," Oakley said quietly. "And if you want to spare yourself some agony you might want to use that last shot on yourself."

"You are lying to me," Mr. Meyer hissed through his teeth, pointing his gun at Oakley.

"If I could've ever lost my will to live I'd be dead too, long dead," Oakley said. "Travis would've outlived me. As similar as we might look, though, Travis and I are very different people, because I had the will to live where he lost his."

"You will die," Mr. Meyer said.

Oakley moved his arms quickly and the gun went off.

Quickly Oakley got to his feet and looked down at Mr. Meyer, whose sides rose and fell in three last, desperate breaths before going still."

Frigid Revenge: Day 18

Word Count: 108,028

Summary of Events:

Oakley made no attempts to talk at the second big meeting, where he was disappointed that the majority voted in favour of deferring their escape attempt to the next night for more prep time. Charlie was also upset by this, but Pierce took her aside and managed to calm her down before they agreed to something of an alternate plan. Oakley was just finishing his shower when he heard Sabrina cry in distress; coming out of the bathroom, he found Mr. Meyer with Sabrina at gunpoint and tried to talk Mr. Meyer into releasing her . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""You really think I'm going to let her go?" Mr. Meyer asked. "I'm in the position of power and I refuse to relinquish it."

"She won't do anything to you," Oakley replied. 

"She'll keep you in check," Mr. Meyer said.

"You don't think you can do that all by yourself?" Oakley asked.

"Oh I can," Mr. Meyer said. "But I think I'm more effective this way."

Oakley rolled his eyes. "We both know what you really mean is that you're too scared to kill me because of how much I look like your son."

Mr. Meyer's expression changed into one of vicious horror and rage. Oakley suddenly wondered what he'd gotten himself into and was grateful the way out was behind him and not Mr. Meyer.

"Who told you anything?" Mr. Meyer demanded, his whole body trembling.

Sabrina slid from his grasp as he lowered his arms to his sides in clenched fists; his blood vessels on his forehead stood out as his face reddened; his muscles — although not even the size of Oakley's in a relaxed state — bulged.

"You didn't cut off the TV," Oakley replied calmly. "The outside world knows who you are, aided by my fight with you at the front doors. They've figured out that you're doing this because of your son."

If ever Oakley was certain he'd seen smoke coming out of someone's ears in real life, he was pretty sure it was now.

"We know you're holding us hostage because you blame a sporting organisation for Travis' suicide," Oakley said. "As if something that ridiculous could happen."

Mr. Meyer roared and lunged at Oakley.

Bracing himself, Oakley held out his hands and grabbed Mr. Meyer's wrists, paying especial care to where the barrel of the gun was pointing.

Not, though, that it seemed like Mr. Meyer even cared that he brandished a deadly weapon at close range. He seemed more intent on biting Oakley.

His teeth snapped together repeatedly, admittedly making a weak and pathetic sort of sound — not that Oakley's teeth sounded any more intimidating — as he lunged for Oakley's chest.

Oakley struggled against him and carefully worked to steer him into the bathroom.

Mr. Meyer fought viciously and it was all Oakley could do to hang onto him, especially considering that his hands were still somewhat wet from his shower, even though they'd been handling the towel.

Carefully Oakley managed to spin Mr. Meyer around while not letting go and crossed Mr. Meyer's arms across his back.

Mr. Meyer flailed his head and tried to pull away, putting his head down so it'd likely smash into the toilet tank and knock him out if he got free.

Flailing and pulling, Mr. Meyer ended up hitting the lever on the toilet that made it flush, but Oakley managed to hold on, although he felt like he was holding the tail of a lion."

Frigid Revenge: Day 17

Word Count: 102,011

Summary of Events:

After the planning meeting was finished the smaller group that Charlie had joined earlier in the day discussed things and came up with a couple more plans. At supper Oakley was approached by a very uneasy man who was willing to give Oakley money to get him out of the hotel, and didn't seem to understand that Oakley didn't want to get paid. Back in her room, waiting for a second large meeting to start, Charlie thought about what'd happened at supper . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"She couldn't help but feel disappointed, even though she knew that they would all be gathering for a meeting in just over an hour. She would've thought that someone would've made a move on Mr. Meyer.

No, she hadn't made a move herself, but she didn't feel like it was her place, after all, Pierce was very intent on protecting her, and he was more likely to have the physical strength to take Mr. Meyer down. She doubted she weighed as much as Mr. Meyer, even though Mr. Meyer looked skinny.

All these supposedly tough guys and no one had the guts to do anything. It was horribly disappointing to say the least.

Yes, she could've shown them how it was done, being as they were all apparently cowards or something, but it'd felt wrong, and she'd been scared that no one would've come to help her, which would've led to her getting killed.

She wanted to see Mom and Dad again; to get herself killed would mean that they'd be able to see her, but she wouldn't be able to see them, and they wouldn't want to see her, necessarily, because she would be dead.

Maybe at the meeting she could take some people to task and get some answers for why no one had moved when — even though it certainly hadn't looked to have been planned — Oakley had given them a glorious opportunity to even try one of their plans.

Were they all just that curious to find out what the other plans were that they didn't want to carry one out until they heard if another was better? Or was everyone really that afraid of dying?

The hour's wait until the meeting started would be agonising, Charlie was sure, unless maybe something of an informative report appeared on the news that would distract her mind from the frustration and disappointment she felt at everyone's inaction.

There had been no shortage of plan suggestions at the meeting, and then when it came down to implementing one no one had wanted to do it. How were they going to get out of this place if everyone was just going to be cowardly like this?

Besides, Mr. Meyer's threat toward Oakley before he'd astonishingly just up and walked away made Charlie nervous that Mr. Meyer had a clue as to what they were doing, and had intent to invade their meeting somehow.

Charlie wasn't even sure if they should go ahead with the meeting, because what if Mr. Meyer knocked on the door while they were all there? What would happen? How would they all be able to hide in that room? They'd been packed into that room like sardines as it was, about all they could do was stack themselves on the bed like logs, but that could get dangerous."

Frigid Revenge: Day 16

Word Count: 96,355

Summary of Events:

Oakley was visited by his coach, Siggy, who exhorted him to not give up and told him to call a meeting of all the people he knew were willing to fight their way out to brainstorm ideas together. Charlie watched a press conference in which the military revealed that they knew of all the deaths since the first one, as well as giving updates on the negotiation process, which continued to go poorly; she, Chrissa, and Orelia were then summoned to the meeting. Not being fond of talking to crowds of people, Oakley couldn't make himself address the group, so Siggy tried to help . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Slowing it down and emphasising the mouth movements, Siggy mouthed it again: "Talk to me."

Oakley stared at him. The silence was deafening. He wanted to get out of here. It was too many people.

"Like we talked before," Siggy mouthed. "Talk to me. Ignore them."

Oakley shook his head.

"Why not?" Siggy mouthed. 

It took some effort for Oakley to pull his tongue out of the clutches of his teeth and pry his jaw open enough to lick his lips before mouthing back: "Laryngitis."

Looking exasperated, Siggy rolled his eyes.

Oakley wanted to look down, but that would only mean more people looking at him, so he looked at the ceiling. He couldn't do this. He hated himself for that thought. Yes, he had tried, but Siggy was disappointed that it wasn't more, and surely he could say something without sounding like he actually had laryngitis.

He leaned back against the wall, pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth so hard that his throat muscles were straining. He closed his eyes. He was sure everyone thought that this was the weirdest thing they'd ever been a part of.

Oakley opened his eyes, pushed off the wall, and opened his mouth, but his tense jaw muscles refused to allow him to do more than desperately breathe.

"We're here for a Council of War," someone said who wasn't Siggy. "All of us are gathered here because we are united by the intention to do something ourselves to get out of here. We know that the military out there need our help to get in and bring this all to an end."

Sagging back against the wall, Oakley didn't bother scanning the crowd to identify who was saying what he should've been saying. He knew who it was.

"As we initially told you when we canvassed for support, our original plan was to hopefully find one whole floor that was game to help us ambush Mr. Meyer and relieve him of his weapons so that we could subdue him, break a window, and get the military personnel inside to deactivate all the bombs and get us out of this," Trey said. "Unfortunately, we hardly got half a hotel floor, even though we have enough supporters to easily fill a floor. So we are gathered for this Council of War to come up with a new plan with the same objective: to disarm Mr. Meyer and subdue him so that help can get in and get us out of here for good."

Oakley slid down the wall until he was completely gathered on the seat of the chair.

"With that said, let's have five minutes of personal thinking, and then we'll discuss ideas," Trey said.

There was a little bit of murmuring that rippled through the room, but otherwise the room remained silent. Oakley didn't know that he'd felt so horrible in his life. Here he was, supposedly the leader, and he hadn't had the guts to address his troops."

Frigid Revenge: Day 15

Word Count: 90,142

Summary of Events:

Charlie was woken up in the night by a sound that turned out to be Mr. Meyer trying a key card in the door; with Kingsley's help — being as Pierce slept through her knocking — Charlie rescued the occupants of the room the key card opened from what was surely certain death. Oakley was blamed by Mr. Meyer for the rescue, even though Oakley had no clue that it had even happened, and Mr. Meyer killed six people trying to get Oakley to confess. Charlie was invited to a meeting of the initial plotting group of Nigel, Trey, Rylan, Pierce, Kingsley, Grady, and Oakley, with the addition of the two men she'd helped rescue and two other halfpipe riders she recognised, where Oakley despaired . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""We should still try at least, no?" Grady asked.

"What's the point?" Oakley asked.

"We don't all die?" Trey suggested.

Oakley sighed. Charlie felt distraught to think that he was ready to give up. She knew it was frustrating, but she thought he was the sort of person who would fight through to the end.

"We have to get out of here," she said.

Oakley looked at her, which was actually somewhat unnerving because of the fact that his left eye was still quite swollen, as well as being purple, yellow, brown, and blue; not that the lack of fight in his right eye made it any better.

"Then what do you suggest?" he asked.

"I don't know," Charlie replied. "How many plans have you guys tried to disarm him?"

"Um, none," Rylan replied.

"I didn't think so," Charlie said. "I mean, canvassing the other floors to see how many people are willing to fight is probably a good idea, but what are you going to do with that data?"

"We could always reorganise rooming arrangements or something," Trey said.

"So as to?" Charlie asked.

"Get a floor full of people who are willing to fight who can ambush him and get the gun and knife away," Rylan replied.

"I almost had both," Oakley spat through his teeth, sounding like he was saying it to himself because he was mad at himself.

He laid back on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Charlie looked at the rest of the group. Aside from Nigel they looked rather disoriented.

"It is something," Nigel said, looking at Trey. "I think we should still canvass the sixth floor just to check, and also the second, then maybe we can move the bodies before supper and find out who they are so we can find their families later and apologise for our responsibility."

"There's enough of us that we could split up into two teams for canvassing simultaneously, and maybe even spare a couple people to do body cleanup while we're at it," Grady said.

"Charlie's not involved," Pierce said. "Even if she's canvassing, there might still be bodies belonging on that floor."

"I'll clean up bodies," Oakley said. "I'll get Dr. Reimann to help me, he's done it before."

"So then we can have five on the sixth and five on the second," Grady said. "And then we divvy up the rooms."

Charlie looked at Pierce. He let her go and nodded to the door. Charlie nodded and walked toward the door. She peered through the peephole to be sure the coast was clear before returning to her room, where Orelia let her in.

It sounded like there was something of a plan, but no one seemed to really be behind it, which troubled Charlie. How were they going to get out if they weren't unified with a plan?"

Pronunciation:

Reimann: ryeman

Frigid Revenge: Day 14

Word Count: 84,100

Summary of Events:

Oakley regained consciousness and found out that two of the girls in the room he'd fought Mr. Meyer in were dead, and one was wounded, so he got the doctor to tend to her even though she wasn't really all that happy to have survived. Charlie still had no idea what had happened with all the shooting and was horrified to realise that it was two fellow Canadian teammates who'd been killed, and another teammate injured. Mr. Meyer got Sabrina mad at Oakley, so Oakley tried to patch things up between them by explaining what had happened in the other room . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"He looked up at Sabrina. "I didn't close the door, so he was able to get in, and even though I beat him up he still managed to knock me out and kill them. If I would've closed the door he wouldn't have gotten in, and they wouldn't be dead, and none of this would've happened."

"It also wouldn't have happened if you would've just stayed put," Sabrina quipped.

"I can't," Oakley replied, the shift of emotions in his voice making it come out almost as a growl. "Being indoors like this is killing me enough, forget being contained in one room. You would've been the one sleeping with a body long ago if I would've stayed put."

Sabrina turned her gaze back to the TV.

"Besides," Oakley said. "Nobody dominates me. You should know that, even if we've barely been together a month."

She still kept her gaze fixed away.

"Not even the odds can dominate me," Oakley said.

"What does that mean?" Sabrina asked, her gaze still unmoving.

"I don't even know what the official odds were against my survival Sabby," Oakley replied. "What do you think the odds would be that a kid who had a birth weight of one pound and fifteen ounces would turn into a strong, healthy, six foot three inch, two hundred and ten pound athlete at twenty?"

Sabrina turned and looked at Oakley, her brow furrowed.

"Yes," Oakley said. "I weigh a hundred and five times, approximately, what I did when I was born."

"Why were you born that small?" Sabrina asked.

"Because I was due on January twenty ninth," Oakley replied. "The year after I was born."

Sabrina's gaze ran up and down Oakley.

"And that's not the only thing I've had to fight against," Oakley said. "But it matters now because it's probably the only other time to this point I've had to fight for my life specifically."

"So you're doing this because you've always had to fight?" Sabrina asked.

"I always have fought," Oakley replied. "I'm not going to start being a wuss and giving up now. Besides, it's not like I want to be here any more than you do. Everyone in here wants to be out."

Sabrina shifted her jaw. Why did she still look so unconvinced?

"I want you to get out of this too Sabby," Oakley said. "You shouldn't have been here this long. You should've been able to enjoy your grandparents' anniversary — which probably was all ruined by the fact that you are stuck here as a hostage — you aren't a snowboarder, he shouldn't be mad at you, not that he should be doing this because he's mad either, but I feel like it's my fault you're stuck here."

"You didn't know he was coming," Sabrina said.

"Still," Oakley said. "I'm sorry you're in all this.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 13

Word Count: 78,034

Summary of Events:

Charlie, Chrissa, and Orelia got talking about their families, with Chrissa being impressed at the size and long history of Charlie and Orelia's compared to her own. Oakley was canvassing the next floor looking for people willing to fight Mr. Meyer when Mr. Meyer caught him in the act; Oakley managed to get Mr. Meyer's knife and win the fistfight handily, but then got knocked unconscious. Charlie, Chrissa, and Orelia were startled by gunshots and Charlie wanted to find out what had happened, but was forced to stay in the room and ponder with her roommates . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""He wasn't at the point of beating people up very long," Orelia said. "But then again, did he expect this to take this long?"

"You almost kind of think that, like, he'd be willing to stick with this however long it takes," Chrissa said. "You wouldn't think someone who's taking hostages would want to be in and out as fast as they can. You think they'd be cool with sitting around for a long time."

"I do not know that they would enjoy such a thing," Orelia said. "After all, they want their demands met, they don't want to have to deal with these hostages for such a long time."

"I guess so, I don't know," Chrissa said. "Maybe his wanting to be in and out gives credence to the fact that the psychologist they had on the news shortly after this all started speculated that Mr. Meyer was more of a serial killer type. They don't just sit around, they get the killing over with."

"Then why would he take hostages?" Orelia asked.

"They didn't have an answer to that, and neither do I," Chrissa replied.

"He wants to revalidate himself," Charlie said. "He wants to prove to himself that he's a man, as he defines it, still, remember?"

"Right, you'd said that," Chrissa said. "You could say that he's taking hostages for spiritual purposes."

"I do not recall you saying this," Orelia said. "What do you mean?"

"He's the sort of guy who believes that men are tough, that they don't cry, that they remain strong no matter what happens," Charlie replied. "Losing Travis made him cry and do other things he'd consider weak, and even time hasn't made the pain go away, so he's taking hostages to get the recompense he believes he deserves from US Snowboard and the world, as well as using this to prove to himself that he's still a man, even though he did things he doesn't believe a man should do."

"Ah," Orelia said. "I can see that very much. And that ties into Oakley not dying."

"He probably sees Oakley as more of a man than he is," Chrissa said. "I mean, Oakley sure hasn't shown any signs of weakness, and, even though Mr. Meyer hasn't publicly shown weakness–"

"He sounded like he was going to cry in the video," Charlie said. "He probably didn't like that."

"I guess that's true," Chrissa said. "So because Oakley's shown nothing, he sees Oakley as more of a man than he is, and he wants to break Oakley down and show himself to be the superior man to himself as well as Oakley before killing him.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 12

Word Count: 72,079

Summary of Events:

Oakley canvassed the fourth floor looking for people willing to ambush Mr. Meyer and although he got some support, he was frustrated at the fact that other people were consumed with fear. Charlie, Chrissa, and Orelia watched more news, which informed them that lots of people were getting disgruntled with the silence coming from the governing body of snowboarding in the US. Oakley, having been forced to sit between the two women who'd been killed at supper the other day, decided that they needed to be moved, and undertook to do so, surprisingly without opposition from Mr. Meyer; in fact, he was able to get so far as to post a note on the window informing the outside world the two women were dead without seeing Mr. Meyer . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""As much as the tidying up is appreciated," Mr. Meyer's voice startled Oakley, who turned around. "That isn't."

"They deserve to know who you're murdering," Oakley said.

"They can find out later," Mr. Meyer spat. "Back to your room."

Oakley crossed his arms and stared at Mr. Meyer defiantly.

"You hear me," Mr. Meyer said. "Obey me."

"No," Oakley replied. "You have no right to exercise authority over me. I am my own person, and I will do what I want."

"You are my hostage," Mr. Meyer said, levelling the gun at him. "You will do what I demand."

Oakley didn't move. He could stand like this all day if that was what it took, although he was sure that Mr. Meyer wouldn't appreciate that.

Mr. Meyer stepped closer, his gun's position unwavering until it was driven into the left side of Oakley's ribcage.

"This is a fully loaded firearm," Mr. Meyer said. "I can kill you six times over."

"But you won't," Oakley replied.

"Oh?" Mr. Meyer asked, raising his eyebrows with intrigue. "And why won't I?"

"Because this isn't the first chance you've had, and every single previous time you've not," Oakley replied. "You want me to suffer. Nobody makes me suffer."

"You're rather simple-minded to think that," Mr. Meyer said.

"It's proved true to this point," Oakley said. "Why shouldn't it now?"

Mr. Meyer cocked the pistol. "Because you're simple-minded."

Oakley clenched his jaw as Mr. Meyer shoved the barrel of the pistol into his ribcage harder. The constant shrill pain made him want to writhe, but he refused to show any signs of weakness.

As subtly as he could, Oakley shifted his weight off his right leg, which he carefully shifted forward slightly.

"You have the gun cocked, shoot me," Oakley said. "Or don't you have the balls to do it?"

Mr. Meyer's face contorted with rage.

Oakley fired his right knee upward, squarely between Mr. Meyer's legs, turning the contortion of rage into a contortion of pain.

The gun went off and a searing pain ripped through Oakley's side worse than the gun barrel's unrelenting pressure. He clutched at his side and threw another knee at Mr. Meyer; this one caught him in the stomach and knocked him backwards.

Dropping to his knees, Oakley grabbed for the gun, releasing his side.

Mr. Meyer fired off another shot. Oakley struggled for control while trying to neutralise Mr. Meyer's free hand to prevent another stabbing, but the struggle to neutralise both hands was a losing fight.

Oakley soon found himself with the knife at his throat and the gun at his temple in spite of his best efforts to force them away.

"You're not as strong as you seem," Mr. Meyer said, an evil smile coming over his face.

Rage boiled in Oakley, who pulled his head back and forced both of Mr. Meyer's hands down to the floor.

Oakley braced himself above the floor on all four spreadeagled limbs.

"You don't have the balls to kill me," Oakley spat. "Or you would've killed me long ago.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 11

Word Count: 66,051

Summary of Events:

Charlie, Orelia, and Chrissa were approached by Pierce about participating in an ambush of their captor, and all agreed they'd be willing. Oakley approached his fellow students Finnegan, Neall, and Dean about the same and got support from Finnegan and Neall, while getting into an argument with Dean, who considered the whole idea ridiculous. Charlie had just finished supper when their captor — who they knew was Travis Meyer's father — announced he was going to take a harder line on people trying to stand up to him . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"His voice had gotten close. Charlie looked around and saw that he was standing directly across from Oakley, the gun levelled at him.

Oakley's gaze was stony in return. He still showed no cowardice, no fear, no hesitation, no nervousness. He was willing to be shot in the head if that was what had to happen.

No one moved. In fact, Charlie hardly breathed, and she doubted anyone else was doing much more as they watched, tense and nervous, to see if Oakley would cave, or if he would be shot.

"Have I made myself clear?" Mr. Meyer asked.

No one dared speak. Charlie was afraid Mr. Meyer might shoot Oakley as soon as someone said anything, be it yes, or no.

The gun inched closer to Oakley's face. Charlie looked at the person whom Mr. Meyer was leaning over. He was having to lean forward to accommodate Mr. Meyer's increasing closeness to Oakley.

He bent his face down to the table, giving Mr. Meyer more space than he needed.

Suddenly he snapped his head back into Mr. Meyer's chest, sending Mr. Meyer backwards. A shot sounded, but the gun was pointing over Oakley's head when Charlie saw smoke discharge from its barrel.

Oakley then dove across the table, sending dishes flying, and lunged for Mr. Meyer's right hand and the gun it contained.

Mr. Meyer raised his gun hand. Oakley grabbed at it and the two struggled for control.

The gun went off three times, including once hitting a light, which prompted a few frightened screams at the sparking the shot caused.

Charlie saw a flash of something in Mr. Meyer's free hand.

Someone shouted.

Then came another shout and Oakley rolled away, his left hand clutching his right forearm, blood seeping through his fingers.

Mr. Meyer got to his feet casually while Oakley glowered at him.

"No insurrection," Mr. Meyer repeated.

Charlie noticed a knife with a bit of blood on the blade was held in his left hand.

"No rebellion," Mr. Meyer said.

Several nervous individuals started getting to their feet.

"I did not say you could leave!" Mr. Meyer shouted.

The gun sounded twice.

A hand clapped over Charlie's eyes and she was turned the opposite way she'd been facing.

"Don't look Charlie," Nigel whispered. "You do not want to look."

"If these insurrectionist activities continue accommodations will be revised," Mr. Meyer said. "Anyone who resists will be killed. You are dismissed to your rooms."

Nigel's hand remained over Charlie's eyes as they got to their feet and left the room; only once she could tell they were out of the restaurant were her eyes uncovered. She looked at Nigel.

"Was it Oakley?" she asked.

"It was two of those who tried to leave," Nigel replied. "I very much see how he doesn't want to kill Oakley."

Charlie felt shaken. She'd been present — even if she hadn't seen — when two people had been murdered."

Frigid Revenge: Day 10

Word Count: 60,397

Summary of Events:

Oakley decided to watch some news coverage and learned that the army had been called in to back the police up. Charlie got upset at several of the guys at breakfast for not helping Oakley, which led them to promise their aid. Oakley was invited by the guys — who included Nigel, Rylan, Trey, Charlie's brother Pierce, and a couple of his friends Kingsley and Grady — to discuss plans for them to collectively start trying to get the gun out of their captor's hands, beginning with Oakley telling them about Charlie's suspicions he wouldn't get killed . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""It's not, like, a premonition thing," Oakley said. "I mean, she's pretty smart, like, picking up on the nuances."

"Oh she reads between the lines like nobody's business," Pierce said. "But, like, why is she convinced you're not going to die?"

"Because I'm fighting him," Oakley replied. "Like, when I first fought him at supper the first night, she heard him say to me that I wasn't suffering, and, I mean, I remember him saying it too, but, like, it didn't mean anything to me. I was like, of course I'm not going to suffer, I'm a fighter, always have been, always will be. But she, like, she thinks that he doesn't want to kill me until I'm suffering, because otherwise he won't get the mental win."

"Sort of in the same principle as I suggested he wouldn't want to diffuse the bombs for us even if we got the gun away from him," Nigel said.

"Yeah," Oakley said. "Like, even if it might demoralise all of you guys for him to kill me, he wouldn't get the win against me because I don't care about dying. If you talk to Dr. Reimann that's a problem, but whatever. A little more of a minor reason, she suspects, is because I look like his son."

"Does she have an iPad hidden somewhere that she's getting stuff off the internet from?" Grady asked. "Like, how would she know what this guy's son looks like?"

"From the news," Oakley replied. "I haven't seen pictures yet, but I was watching some coverage last night, and police have confirmed that our murderous host is a guy by the name of Craig Meyer, and he's got as all hostage to avenge the suicide of his son Travis."

"I'm guessing this Travis Meyer guy snowboarded?" Grady asked.

"Yes," Nigel replied before Oakley could, startling him. "I haven't heard that name in years."

"You rode with him?" Trey asked.

"Yes," Nigel replied, nodding. "He wasn't on the scene for very long."

"Two seasons I heard," Oakley replied.

"I mean, it almost feels like a dream, to remember him," Nigel said.

"The people on TV were saying a lot of people who competed with him were saying the same thing," Oakley said. "Why is it surreal?"

"Well, he was here, and he was amazing, and then, all of the sudden, he was gone," Nigel replied, snapping his fingers to emphasise the suddenness. "He came storming onto the scene and really dominated in his first season, he was a fantastic, talented rider, there was a lot of talk he'd go to Torino, especially the next season, and then all of the sudden he was gone."

"Why?" Pierce asked.

Nigel furrowed his brow in thought for a long time before shaking his head. "I don't know that I ever heard. We just came back next season and it was as if he'd never existed. I don't even know if any of his fellow Americans had any clue what happened to him. He was just gone.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 9

Word Count: 54,010

Summary of Events:

Charlie got to watch her parents get interviewed on TV and was prompted to cry when she realised just how scared they were. Oakley suspected that the killed man might've known something but been killed before being able to reveal it, and so went back to the scene to see if he could figure it out, only to encounter their captor and end up in a fight that only ended because it was lunchtime and Oakley was sore. Charlie, still shaken by her parents' interview, stared out the window as she listened to the latest news update . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""Police witnessed a rather interesting event in Copper Mountain this morning, as well as receiving some distressing and alarming news," Mr. Dunn's voice filled the room as Orelia must've unmuted the TV. "For more we turn to Kellan Rothwell, live in Copper Mountain, Kellan."

"Malcom, we are being told that one of the hostages was able to inform police by a series of notes that one man has been killed, and that not only are the doors rigged with bombs, but the elevator has been turned into a giant bomb," Mr. Rothwell replied.

"And how is that?" Mr. Dunn asked.

"Well, according to police reports the elevator is loaded with nitroglycerin, and the detonation of one of the bombs on the doors could cause the elevator to go into a free-fall down its shaft to detonate on impact with the bottom," Mr. Rothwell replied. "Police have ordered all businesses and other properties within a quarter-mile radius to be evacuated and closed until further notice, although there is possibility that the radius could expand depending on expert estimates of how far the blast wave of such an explosion could reach, which the police have experts simulating and calculating at this moment."

"As for the man who is dead, family is being notified at this time?" Mr. Dunn asked.

"Yes," Mr. Rothwell replied. "The statement officers received from the hostage was simply that he was dead, not how he died or anything like that, but, considering the amount of gunshots heard in the past couple of days, it's likely that he died by some sort of gunshot wound."

"And the interesting incident, tell us more about that Kellan," Mr. Dunn said.

"Well Malcom, police have said the officer who made contact with the hostage saw the suspect — which should lead to identity confirmation soon — and warned the hostage, who was not in the position to see his captor," Mr. Rothwell replied. "The hostage is reported to have been surprisingly calm at the appearance, and even fought with the suspect, despite the suspect shooting at him repeatedly. Police report that none of the shots appeared to have hit the hostage, and that the suspect ran out of bullets because he looked poised to kill the hostage, but didn't do so. Some other incident appeared to have prompted the altercation to be halted. The officer who witnessed the altercation had his body camera on, and police have plans to release some of the footage either later tonight or possibly tomorrow morning. No word yet as to whether they know who that particular hostage was."

"Thank you for the update Kellan, we look forward to hearing more from you," Mr. Dunn said. "That was Kellan Rothwell, live in Copper Mountain where the hostage crisis remains ongoing at this time."

Charlie was pretty sure the hostage that had been involved in that altercation had been Oakley. Who else would be so calm in the face of a loaded gun, much less some repeated gunfire?"

Frigid Revenge: Day 8

Word Count: 48,044

Summary of Events:

Oakley, and everyone else in the hotel near to one of the security cameras their captor had installed, took down the camera nearest him and stomped it to pieces. Charlie observed their captor as she stood in the breakfast line; she felt nervous when he announced his reaction to their destruction of the cameras. Oakley brought Charlie to his room to talk about things, being as he'd learned she was behind organising everyone to destroy the cameras and wanted to know her thoughts, which he found rather interesting.

Excerpt of the Day:

""Would you agree, then, that if we all rally around and jump him at once — or, at least, like, a good dozen of us do — and disarm him, that we could get him to diffuse at least one bomb and let us out?" Oakley asked.

"Why wouldn't he?" Charlie asked.

"Your coach seems to think that our captor is a man of extremes," Oakley replied. "It either ends with him getting all his demands met to the letter and everyone goes free largely unmolested, or we all go down with him instead of him being handed over to the police."

"Which would mean?" Charlie asked.

"He wouldn't diffuse the bomb even though we have the gun on him," Oakley replied. "He'd make one go off to trigger the elevator and level the whole place."

"There is an alternate plan," Charlie said.

"Which is?" Oakley asked.

"We communicate with the police to bring a ladder or ladder-truck and we break a window up here so they can get in," Charlie replied. "Then the bomb squad can diffuse the bombs and the police can take him down."

Oakley gathered his lips and thought for a moment. "I'd say there's some chanciness in that."

"Such as?" Charlie asked.

"Would he necessarily be oblivious to a ladder or ladder-truck?" Oakley asked. "And would they be able to find out how to deal with the elevator in time to keep themselves from being annihilated with us should he find out and trigger a door bomb to knock this whole place down?"

"Unless we only signalled them after we had him down," Charlie said. "Something of a hybrid plan."

"That would work," Oakley said. "The thing is, we need to get that gun out of his hands, which is proving to be almost impossible."

"That's because you're doing it alone," Charlie said.

"Well then we–"

Oakley stopped short at the sound of a loud crack. Two more sounded.

Swearing, Oakley shoved Sabrina off his lap and bolted for the door. Someone was being shot at.

Out in the hallway he found no one. He thundered up the stairs to the next floor, even though the gunfire had stopped.

Nothing in that hallway. He went up to the next floor. Nothing there either. 

On the top floor he found what he'd been looking for, but not been wanting to find. He hauled the door open and rushed over.

Blood discoloured the carpet and clothes of the unmoving figure. Two shots had made connection, one in the thigh, one in the back of the head. There was no use checking for a pulse.

Oakley swore. It wasn't him — and the way Charlie was talking it wasn't likely to be him — but it was someone. Their captor was serious about using his gun to kill. Oakley hated the thought of what effect this would have on those who'd just been emboldened by their part in the camera destruction last night."

Frigid Revenge: Day 7

Word Count: 42,230

Summary of Events:

Oakley had a pre-breakfast meeting with Charlie's coach Nigel and her fellow students Trey and Rylan — as Trey had wanted to talk to him the day before, but been unable to — during which they plotted ways to try and get out, or at least get a group together to stand up to their captor. Charlie, Chrissa, and Orelia watched a bit more news coverage, which already seemed boring because there were no new developments, so they moved on to watch a hockey game instead.

Excerpt of the Day:

""But, the thing is, we do need to get out of here, and we need to find a way to do it without being blown up," Trey said.

"If we rally enough of us and jump him we can get the gun away and make him diffuse at least one bomb so we can get out," Oakley said.

"You make it sound so simple," Trey said.

"It is, for the most part," Oakley said.

"The thing is," Nigel said. "Will he actually diffuse the bomb? Or will he just make it go off and blow everything up?"

"Well if he doesn't want to die he'll diffuse it," Oakley said.

"What if he wants to die?" Nigel asked. "I mean, he's just as trapped in here as the rest of us are if opening the doors is what causes the bomb to go off."

"You mean, like, he'd never intend to release us, ever?" Rylan asked.

"I mean, you just think about it: if we can't get out, he can't get out, Nigel said.

"But he also doesn't let us into the staff areas," Oakley said. "There've got to be doors in those areas. Who says they're armed?"

"That's true," Nigel conceded.

"But he's totally not cooking all that food by himself," Trey said. "I'm positive he's got the kitchen staff as hostages too."

"Well, he told us not to look for the hotel staff," Oakley said. "That does imply that he killed them and we'd just find corpses, but, yet, too, it could mean they're just hostage in other parts of the building, such as those staff areas where there might be exit doors."

"And brings us back round to my point," Nigel said.

"So then if he's trapped in here with the rest of us," Oakley said. "You figure he might just make a door-bomb go off to trigger the elevator and level the whole place to kill us all instead of being handed over to the police?"

"Yes, I would say so," Nigel replied. "To me it's really quite evident that his end goal is victory in truth or victory in defeat."

"Victory in truth?" Rylan asked.

"Yes," Nigel replied. "He either has victory in the sense that he wants, which is having his demands met in their whole without being negotiated down, or he has victory in bringing us all down with him."

"Okay, I get it," Rylan said.

"I feel like you guys have a plan though," Oakley said.

"Well, I've noticed there's more security cameras in the hallways," Trey said.

"I noticed that last night too," Oakley said. "They're the kind people put on their garage eaves. He installed them. Makes me wonder how many hours he was here before the fire alarms woke us up."

"That's how he knew Siggy was out of his room, which he punished him for," Trey said. "And the doctor too. So I think, to start with, we need to find a way to take all the security cameras down.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 6

Word Count: 36,144

Summary of Events:

Angry at being cooped up all day, Oakley went down to supper, where he got even angrier when he found out that his coach and the doctor who'd stitched his face up had been beaten for being caught wandering the hallways, and so attacked their captor; he didn't really win the fight, but he didn't get killed as their captor kept threatening either. Charlie and her roommates continued to watch the news coverage, which included being shown the video their captor had sent to the hostage negotiators earlier that afternoon . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""He was full of potential . . . and getting noticed for it," the voice continued. "He could almost taste his lifelong dream of going to the Olympics . . . when it was all taken from him."

The screen went black abruptly, and silence prevailed for a few moments before an image of a piece of paper with rather neat writing on it slowly materialised.

"This is the end," the voice read the words. "I can't take it anymore. My dream was to ride. To compete. To reach the Olympics. To represent my country. To win a gold medal for it. I was good. I did my best. But in the end, apparently, it wasn't good enough. Now I can never fulfill my dream. I can't stand the idea of never riding again. Or riding without that end goal. I was cut off before I could reach the top. And if I can never ride again, if I can never represent my country, because my country doesn't want me, then there is no point in being alive anymore. This is the end. There is no reason for living. Travis."

Charlie shuddered.

"Travis took his own life by gunshot twelve years ago," the voice said, showing a photo of a gun that Charlie instantly recognised as the gun their captor had been waving around all day. "Because he was shoved out. He was cast off before he could even be considered worn out. He was forsaken by the very people who understood what he lived for!"

The rage in the voice — even though Charlie was sure it was scrambled — was palpable, and made Charlie want to hide.

Slowly the gun faded away to show a photo of a half-open casket, with the still, pale, lifeless face that  had been so confident in the graduation photo. He was wearing the same royal blue coat as in the competition photos.

After too long — as far as Charlie was concerned — the image faded away and the screen was black again.

"He fought for all he was worth," the voice growled, although a touch of emotional waver reappeared. "And in the end, he lost the strength. So I have taken up the fight for him."

Charlie almost wished a picture would come up, it was weird to have the TV on but look like it was off.

"I call on the governing body of snowboarding in the United States to admit to criminal negligence and murder," the voice said resolutely. "I call on the government of the United States to arrest and prosecute them for those charges, and for them to be given the death penalty. And I demand one billion dollars in compensation from the governing body of snowboarding in the United States. If the United States, and any governments whose nationals are affected by my actions, wish to see their affected citizens alive again these conditions must be met. I refuse to renege any of these demands. The longer you hold out on me, the more dead bodies you will have to deal with.""

Frigid Revenge: Day 5

Word Count: 30,024

Summary of Events:

Charlie and her coach, Nigel, talked about long-term plans for her to stay in a different hotel room so she wasn't alone before discussing the potential merits of trying to escape out the window with her fellow students Rylan and Trey. Oakley got his face stitched up without anaesthetic before having lunch, after which everyone watched their cell phones ultimately self-destruct, as rigged by their captor. Charlie, who was now staying with two slope-style competitors Chrissa and Orelia watched the lates news coverage regarding their situation, as they were bored and the TV had signal . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""And what about the organisers behind the event?" the main newscaster asked, as the screen changed to have small insets of both men. "Are there any reports on what their plans are?"

"Unless the competitors can be released within the next forty eight hours the event will be called off," Mr. Rothwell replied. "Everyone who has purchased tickets to attend the event will have them refunded, but are likely to be asked to hang onto their tickets to gain them free entry into the rescheduled event, which, based on the busy schedule of other events these athletes have, probably won't happen until March."

"So you've talked to the organisers then?" the main newscaster asked.

"They e-mailed a statement to all the news agencies, as well as posting it to Social Media," Mr. Rothwell replied. "We have requested an in-person interview with a representative, but have yet to receive a reply at this time. We will keep you up to date on the latest."

"Thank you Kellan," the main newscaster said as his image filled the screen. "Kellan Rothwell, live from Copper Mountain in Colorado."

The camera changed takes.

"To recap our top story: this morning fire crews responded to reports of a two-alarm fire at the Copper Mountain Resort Hotel in Copper Mountain, at which the athletes and associated personnel who are to participate in the snowboarding competitions there over the weekend are staying and found no sign of fire, but a sign on the door telling them that to open any door on the building would see them blown to smithereens," he said. "They summoned police, who have the building surrounded. A bomb squad was brought in to try and diffuse the bombs, but due to their detonation mechanism and their location, the bomb squad was unable to diffuse the bombs. An estimated four hundred people are inside the hotel, hailing from the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Spain, Italy, Austria, Germany, France, Switzerland, Russia, and many more countries. Why they are being held there and who is responsible is unknown at this time as the State of Colorado's Hostage Negotiation Team has yet to get into contact with anyone inside the hotel. We will keep you updated on any further developments as soon as they come up."

The take changed again and the newscaster gave a hook for the next story they were going to cover before they headed off for commercial breaks.

Charlie shuddered. She didn't like being a part of the news like this. She didn't like being a part of the news at all, for that matter. She looked over at Chrissa, who'd muted the TV.

"Well, I guess they don't know anything we don't," Chrissa said. "They even know that guy got shot at."

Charlie nodded. Trey and Rylan had identified him as Oakley Lyzaniuk, a name she recognised herself. From what she recalled about him he was a fellow Canadian — which made sense, considering he'd asked if foreign nationals could be released."

Frigid Revenge: Day 4

Word Count: 24,645

Summary of Events:

Oakley was woken up by the fire alarm going off, an announcement informed him that it was a false alarm, proved by the firefighters not getting out when they showed up; he got suspicious when a sizeable horde of police showed up though. Charlie watched as a bomb squad showed up, not that she was sure why; she got scared and was grateful to accept Pierce's invitation to join him and King in their room, as opposed to being alone. Oakley joined everyone downstairs at the order of an announcement and everyone found out they were hostages of a lone man who'd rigged bombs to the doors and filled the elevator with nitroglycerin for reasons he wouldn't enlighten them to; before sending them back to their rooms, he demanded their cell phones, Oakley was the only one who held out against handing his over . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"In a flash he levelled the gun again and fired. Oakley didn't dare duck, he knew he wouldn't have the time.

White hot pain tore across his temple and ear as the bullet grazed him. Oakley was certain he'd heard the sound of his flesh being peeled open. The blood ran warm down his cheek.

"You don't break easily," the man said. "My guess is that girl means something to you."

Oakley said nothing.

"You were hugging her earlier, after all," he said, his voice ominous. "What if I put the gun on her head?"

As much as Oakley knew Sabrina would probably be a basket case for as long as this endured, he couldn't let her be killed, but he refused to give in. He didn't want this to be a standoff. He wanted it to be a fight.

He drew his phone out of his pocket.

"Giving in are we?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"No," Oakley replied. He looked at his phone's screen and entered the passcode. He wasn't sure what he could do, or should do, but he was going to make a fight out of this. It was much higher chances he'd win if it were a fight.

"We're saying goodbye to our sobbing girlfriend?"

Oakley looked up to see that he had his gun levelled toward the crowd to Oakley's left, where Sabrina was likely standing.

He shut off his phone and whipped it at the man's head. It bounced off, prompting the man to recoil his hands in pain.

In the same instant Oakley surged for the desk and jumped to get over it.

His vault was clean, but when he landed he found himself with the semiautomatic Magnum's barrel centred over his heart, the man smiling menacingly at him, and his phone in the man's free hand.

"Thank you very much," he said, smiling. "Now get out of here or I'll kill you."

Oakley wanted to lunge for his phone, but considering that the gun was ready to fire, a finger already resting on the trigger, he knew it would really be pointless. It was just a phone, after all. He could get another one and get everything back off the Cloud.

"Don't think we're all cowards," Oakley warned. "Or that we'll all be put down easily."

"You seem to be speaking of yourself in the third person," he replied. "I have my doubts you'll find many allies."

"You never know," Oakley said, offering a cockeyed smile before shoving past the man and exiting out of the built-in opening to the check-in desk.

"Everyone back to your rooms until I give you the call for lunch!" he shouted. "And don't forget about the nitroglycerin in the elevator!"

Oakley didn't look back as he headed for the stairs. This was going to be a lot more mental fight than physical, unfortunately; worse yet, he was better at the latter."

Frigid Revenge: Day 3

Word Count: 18,040

Summary of Events:

Charlie participated in her first training run at Copper Mountain, which had her excited for the upcoming weekend's competition. Oakley also did some training at Copper Mountain while Sabrina watched, as her grandparents were celebrating their wedding anniversary on the same weekend of the competition, so they'd agreed she would come down for training week so they could still spend time together even if they couldn't be in the same place over the weekend. Later on, Charlie watched her second-oldest brother Pierce and some of his fellow Canadians practise their Snowboard Cross for the weekend's events . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"It all came down to a close finish with Pierce in second, which was disappointing to Charlie, even though it was just a training run. A second-place finish in training didn't really mean anything on race day, after all, it would be insane if all four of these guys were in the big final together — goodness knew there might be questions of whether they were abiding by the rules or not if the big final was an All-Canadian affair.

Making her way down the stands, Charlie watched as the riders each talked with their coaches about their performance in the race. If she wasn't mistaken it was their last run of the day.

Pierce waved to her and Charlie hopped the barrier between the front row of the stands and the finish area to jog over to him.

"So what'd you think?" Pierce asked.

"You should've won," Charlie replied.

Pierce laughed. "You're biased."

Charlie crossed her arms and glared at him, but with a smile.

"Whoa, that's worse than Grady's pants!" the rider who'd beat Pierce exclaimed, shielding his eyes. "That must be new."

"I've had it for awhile actually," Charlie replied, knowing he was talking about her florescent pink coat.

"That is some intense dye," the rider said.

"Those are the Team Nigel colours King," Pierce said. "The Highlighters with their Highlight-Reel Performances."

Charlie rolled her eyes.

King laughed. "That actually works."

"Even if she doesn't like it," Pierce said, jiggling her braid.

Charlie whipped off her helmet and whacked him on the shoulder.

"Apparently she likes that even less," King said.

"Ow," Pierce moaned. "I didn't pull it Charlie!"

"You leave my hair alone," Charlie replied.

"If you'd cut it short it wouldn't be there to play with," Pierce protested.

"Mom won't let me have it as short as I want it," Charlie snapped.

Pierce sighed, but maintained hold on his shoulder. "Sorry Charlie."

"You've got some seriously Rapunzel-length hair going on there, though," King said.

"It stays out of my face that way," Charlie replied.

"It's almost long enough to be a whip," King said.

"Don't give her any ideas," Pierce whimpered.

"Well I'll stop there then," King said.

"Thank you," Pierce said.

"If it gets long enough I'll just braid it in cornrows with glass and metal beads, maybe some metal necklace pendants . . ." Charlie said, smiling mischievously at Pierce as she deliberately trailed off.

Pierce looked at her with a grimace of fear. "We haven't been that mean to you! Don't hurt us!"

King laughed. "The power of the youngest in the family at its most potent."

"If you guys don't leave the hair alone that's what's coming," Charlie warned.

Pierce whimpered. At times like these Charlie really enjoyed being the youngest."

Frigid Revenge: Day 2

Word Count: 12,334

Summary of Events:

Charlie and her fellow students were training when one took a fall and got the wind knocked out of himself, but he was okay otherwise. Oakley had to wake Sabrina up for breakfast because he was getting hungry; they then talked over breakfast. Charlie laid down a good run at her competition which assured her a good place in the next competition. Oakley was invited to a gathering of Sabrina's dad's side of the family, who came from Greece, where Sabrina introduced him to everyone before enlightening him as to their names . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

""Her name is what?" Oakley asked.

"Eleftheria," Sabrina replied. "It's Greek for something."

"Why would you name your kid Something?" Oakley asked.

"Oh, no that's not what I meant Oakley," Sabrina said, laughing. "I meant that I don't know what it's Greek for, that's not what it means."

"Oh," Oakley said, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

"That's the most adorable thing you've ever done!" Sabrina exclaimed.

Considering how embarrassing it was to him, Oakley was inclined to disagree.

"Come here Sabrina," Eleftheria said, beckoning with a knobby finger. "Bring your friend with you."

Sabrina grabbed Oakley's arm and hauled him through the family room to where the matriarch of the Dimitriou family sat. Oakley looked at her warily.

She was shorter as well as more wrinkled and hunched than his grandparents were, even though her hair was still jet black — although Oakley wondered if that wasn't because of hair dye — and her black-coffee-brown eyes were fixed on him critically.

"What kind of name is that you have?" Eleftheria asked almost demandingly, her voice strongly accented. "Oakley. What does that mean?"

"I think it means something like an oak valley," Oakley replied. "I looked it up a long time ago."

"You don't even dress up for a gathering," Eleftheria said, waving dismissively at him, her contemptuous facial expression accentuated by her wrinkles.

"I don't go to many formal-type gatherings," Oakley replied.

"What do you see in a boy like him Sabrina?" Eleftheria demanded.

"Well, he's strong, and handsome, and smart," Sabrina replied.

"What sort of job do you have?" Eleftheria asked, turning her attention back to Oakley. "To provide for my granddaughter and my great grandchildren?"

Oakley looked at Sabrina. He thought there wasn't going to be any talk of kids.

"I snowboard," he replied.

"What is this snowboard?" Eleftheria asked.

"It's like a skateboard without wheels that you use on snow," Oakley replied, praying she'd seen a skateboard before.

"But what do you get paid to do?" Eleftheria demanded.

"I get paid to snowboard," Oakley replied.

"Who would pay you for that?" Eleftheria demanded.

"People who think it's cool," Oakley replied.

"That is not a real job," Eleftheria said. "What you want for a real job?"

"I want to snowboard," Oakley replied.

"You make my granddaughter live on that pittance?" Eleftheria demanded.

"It's actually pretty good money," Oakley replied. "And because my gear is sponsored I don't even have to pay for that so most of it's take-home pay."

"How much do you make in a year?" Eleftheria demanded.

"Well within the range of what her dad makes," Oakley replied, indicating Sabrina.

"You are lying to me," Eleftheria said. "You are a lazy slob. Sabrina, you find another boy. He is no good."

"I like him Grandma," Sabrina said.

"You need a man who can provide for you!" Eleftheria exclaimed. "And for your children! He does none of that!"

Speech Oakley couldn't understand sounded behind him. He startled violently and saw the man identified as Uncle Filippos was talking, but he was most certainly not speaking English; Oakley guessed he was speaking in Greek."

Pronunciations:

Eleftheria: ellefftheereeah

Dimitriou: deemeetreeoo

Filippos: fihlihpos

Frigid Revenge: Day 1

Word Count: 6,058

Summary of Events:

Oakley, with the excitement of a kid at Christmas, took his first ride of the season at the local resort's opening weekend. Charlie ended up in a race with one of her brothers, although because he got a head start on her they both reached the bottom at the exact same time — as determined by her other brothers using the stopwatches on their cell phones. Oakley, hanging out at the opening weekend concert, spied a good looking girl in the crowd and got her to step away from the concert to talk a bit before they returned to the melée because they were tired of talking, although Oakley didn't care much for the band and wanted to leave.

Excerpt of the Day:

"The lead singer of the band thanked the crowd for being awesome before announcing that they were going to be performing their last song for the night. Oakley was grateful for that; he didn't want dancing to tire Sabrina out before they could leave here for a little privacy.

With a crashing thunder of drums the song started and sent the crowd jumping enthusiastically. Oakley did some mini, leg-only jumping jacks to continue the pretence of participation while watching as Sabrina jumped, twisted, flailed her arms, and miraculously kept her touque on the back of her head. His guess was there were bobby pins involved, but he was still rather impressed.

After the first verse and chorus — or, at least, what Oakley guessed to be the first verse and chorus — he slowed his jumping and guided Sabrina out to the fringes of the crowd.

"Take it easy Sabby," Oakley said.

"Why?" Sabrina asked. "I like this song."

"You don't want to be worn out," Oakley replied.

"What do you mean?" Sabrina asked.

"I don't want it to be bedtime after the concert's over," Oakley replied.

"I don't understand," Sabrina said.

"That's because I'm using words," Oakley said. "There's better ways to explain what I mean."

Sabrina looked at him with confusion. Oakley carefully wrapped his arms around her, settling one hand at her lower back, the other cradling the base of her skull, a bobby pin jabbing into his palm.

Drawing his hands closer to himself, he pressed her body against his tightly as he lowered his head down. He touched her nose softly with his before steering it down the left side, across her cheek, and away off her face as his lips made contact with hers.

As if the contact of their lips had created an electrical current, she suddenly moved, her lips hungrily moving against his own, her arms coming around his back to clutch desperately at the shoulders of his coat.

He felt her body sag against his as a moan resounded from her throat. Oakley savoured the feeling of her practically hanging off of him, as if she'd been starving in the desert and he was the first food source she'd come across in months.

Slowly, though, he pried his lips from hers and looked at her. Her expression was almost desperate.

"If we go now we'll beat the rush," Oakley said quietly.

"You'll take me in your car?" Sabrina asked.

"You don't think I'd make you hitchhike, do you?" Oakley asked, showing a bit of a smile.

Sabrina dropped her head against his chest heavily. "I don't think I'd have the strength."

"Come on," Oakley said, sliding his left hand gently around her back and guiding her toward the parking lot. It was going to be a perfect end to a fantastic day."