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."