Buried Alive! by Gloria Skurzynski

huge mountain—is that Denali?”
    â€œIt is,” Chaz answered.
    â€œOh my gosh, it’s amazing!”
    There, to the south, rising like an enormous crown, was a massive mountain with a peak that seemed to scrape the very bottom of the sky. Jack had been born and raised in Jackson Hole where the Tetons had always dazzled him, but this—this was almost too much to take in. The sky was a clear turquoise that framed the mountain like a jeweler’s velvet. At the base of the mountain, a long stretch of clouds hovered over the foothills in an endless streamer, bisecting the view. Just beyond, emerging from the snow, was the jewel of Denali, its scalloped ridges tinted in shades of palest blue and silver-white as if light itself had carved the facets. It was immense, brilliant, incomprehensible.
    Jack breathed it in, instantly glad he’d been here to see it, Nicky or no Nicky.
    â€œDenali is 20,320 feet high—the highest mountain on the North American continent,” Chaz told them. “It is also called Mount McKinley. In fact, that’s its official name, but everyone around here calls it Denali. Sometimes, if you get here on a clear day, you can see the mountain reflected in Wonder Lake.”
    â€œJust look at it,” Ashley said, her voice reverent, while Nicky added, “That is one big mountain.”
    Ashley turned to Chaz. Her stocking cap had been pulled almost to the bridge of her nose, but a few tendrils of hair had escaped. The wind blew them over her cap like dark, curling shoots. “You know so much about Denali—have you lived in Alaska all your life?”
    â€œNooo. I’m originally from the lower 48. About five, no, six years ago, I decided it was time to get away from all the city life, so I came up here. See, I thought the city was wild, but I had no idea what Alaska could dish out. Almost died my first winter. Now I got snowshoes and a shovel and candles and all kinds of stuff packed in my sled, ’cause the backcountry will kill you if you’re not prepared. Even carry a gun, just in case I tangle with an animal that won’t let me go my way. One thing I know, this place is wilder than the city.”
    Ashley asked, “Where were you from?”
    â€œI was born in Texas, but the years before Alaska I spent in Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, to be exact.”
    Jack felt, rather than saw, Nicky stiffen as he asked, “You lived in Philly?”
    â€œYeah. You’re from Philly, too, aren’t you?” Chaz answered coolly. His voice had become as frosted as the air. “It’s amazing, huh? The world seems to be such a big place, but in the end, everybody knows everybody, right? So how’d you get from there all the way to Jackson Hole, Nicky? Did your daddy take you there?”
    Jack turned to see Nicky stammer, “I…I don’t know.”
    â€œWhy’s that? You seem to be a pretty big kid to not know how you ended up somewhere.”
    Chaz’s jaw tightened as he gazed straight ahead. He had small eyes that were set deep, so deep they were hard to read, and the expression on his face was as blank as a sheet of white paper, but those eyes—they kept zeroing in on Nicky. A smile curled the edges of his lips as he asked, “So where’s your dad now?”
    â€œHe’s…gone.”
    â€œGone? Doesn’t sound like much of a dad to just up and leave you.”
    â€œMy dad is none of your business!” Nicky flared.
    â€œNicky!” Ashley scolded, “don’t be rude!”
    â€œStay out of this, Ashley,” Nicky snapped. “You don’t have—just stay out of it!”
    Leaning over the handle bow of the sled, Chaz said, “You remind me of my wolverines, kid. Fierce. Maybe a bit nasty, even. But I can deal with that. Oh, yeah, I can deal.” His gloved hand moved smoothly over his chin, like a snake. The dogs kept running, faster now, making Jack’s