1985 Polaris

Derek steered around the slick corner at break-neck speeds, causing Jared, his younger brother, to clutch to his waist.

“Geez,” he shouted over the roar of the engine. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

Derek just laughed, feeling the icy wind whip his face.

“Slow down,” Jared yelled. “That next turn is sharp.”

Derek ignored him. He had seen Mikel Anderson behind them earlier, driving his brand-new snowmobile like he owned the world. Well, Derek would show him. You didn’t need a shiny new toy to be the fastest or the best.

He spared a glance over his shoulder. Mikel was still on them, clearly trying to catch up.

Oh, no you don’t.

Derek leaned forward intently, pushing his old Polaris to the limit. He could hear the engine of Mikel’s Yamaha behind him, growing louder and closer. He gritted his teeth.

Just…a little…faster…

Jared yelled a warning, but Derek barely registered it. He hit the corner. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mikel try taking the inside to pass him up.

Derek’s stomach lurched. He slammed on the brakes instinctively, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that it was too late.

Derek had been on this trail hundreds of times. He knew that this corner was not wide enough for two vehicles.

Mikel jerked to the side, trying to avoid the sharp rock outcropping sticking out around the corner, and knocked into Derek and Jared.

Wheels slid, bodies jostled, and both vehicles went over the edge.

Derek managed to mostly control the crash. They hadn’t gone over a sheer cliff edge, but the descend was still steep. In the end, he hit a bump and the whole vehicle rolled, wrenching his grip free and sending him and Jared flying into deep snow.

A few moments of disorientation, followed by icy cold on his neck. He sat up with a shudder, vision blurry. He could see his snowmobile a ways off, where it had rolled to a stop on its side up against an evergreen tree. The engine puttered pathetically.

“Jared?” Derek called out, his voice raspy and breathless. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jared!”

A soft moan answered, and Derek saw the dark shape in the snow. He moved to scramble over to his brother, wincing at a sharp pain in his shoulder.

Jared was lying on his back, eyes squeezed close and breathing between his teeth as if in pain. “You…are…an idiot,” Jared finally managed.

Derek winced, but shame was immediately replaced with anger. “It’s Mikel that’s the idiot. When I see him, I’m gonna…” He trailed off, then stood and spun around. Where had Mikel gone? Derek was sure he had seen the boy go off the edge with them.

There.

A snowmobile lay about twenty yards away, upside down. He squinted, looking for any movement.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Jared grunted in reply.

Derek made his way through knee-deep snow, wincing as every step jostled his injured shoulder. As he grew closer, he realized that Mikel was pinned underneath the vehicle. Cursing, Derek hurried his pace.

“Mikel!” he called.

No response. He examined the wreckage. Mikel had a leg stuck between the snowmobile and the ground, but the rest of his body was in the hollow space created by the dipped seat. Derek heaved to lift the heavy vehicle, and the pain in his shoulder flared up.

“Let me help with that.”

Derek turned to see Jared approaching.

“You okay?” he asked.

Jared grimaced. “Got the wind knocked out of me, but I’m fine.”

Together, they managed to lift the vehicle high enough to get Mikel’s leg free. Derek pulled him the rest of the way out, not trying to be gentle.

Mikel groaned and shifted, then opened his eyes.

“How do you feel?” Derek asked.

Mikel blinked several times. “What happened?”

“You ran us off the road, friend,” Derek replied coolly.

Mikel gave him a blank stare, then snorted softly. “Not my fault you’re a bad driver.”

Derek leaned down a little closer, pulling his right glove off. “You just sent us all off a cliff. It was quite the fall. So I ask you again, how do you feel?”

Mikel eyed him. “Fine, I guess.”

“Good.” Derek punched him in the face. It was worth the sting of pain in his left shoulder.

Mikel cried out and put a hand to his nose, which immediately began to bleed. He let out a string of curses as Derek got to his feet and put his glove back on.

“We’re still not even, mind you,” Derek said. “Because with your leg, we’re going to have to drag you out of this canyon.”

Mikel made a sound that was almost a growl, and Derek smiled. Jared looked concerned.

“I’m going to call my dad, and when he gets here-”

Derek cut him off. “Cell service won’t work up here, friend. We’ll have to hike out a ways before calling anyone.”

Mikel glared at him with beady green eyes and tried to stand. Jared offered a hand, which Mikel slapped away. He fell back to the ground when he tried to put weight on the injured leg.

“I’m happy to leave you here,” Derek said lightly. “We can see how long you make it on your own. Let’s see, it takes about, what, five hours to walk out of this canyon under normal conditions?”

Jared nodded.

“Wonder how long it takes crawling.” Derek gave Mikel a meaningful look. With a final glare, the red-headed boy accepted Jared’s help.

Derek led the way, trying to make a clear path for Jared who was supporting the limping Mikel. The sun was getting low, their progress was slow. Derek tried not to let worry seize him. They still had time.

“Wait.”

Derek turned. Mikel had spoken. He was looking sideways, towards a branching trail that led into the woods.

“If we go that way, we’ll find my family’s summer cabin,” Mikel said. “We can get a call out from there.”

Derek snorted. “You can’t get a call out from anywhere around here.”

Mikel smirked. “You can if you have the right resources.”

Derek almost punched him again. Mikel’s family was extremely wealthy, and everyone knew it. That would be fine, if Mikel wasn’t a total jerk about it.

“Fine,” Derek snapped. Then he paused. “You say it’s your family’s summer cabin?”

“Yeah. You deaf?” Mikel replied, rolling his eyes.

“So how do we know that this is the right trail? You might not recognize it correctly.”

A flicker of hesitation ran across Mikel’s face. Then he sneered. “I know the way, 1985 Polaris,” he said. It was a clear reference to the fact that Derek’s family was too poor to afford anything new. Derek clenched his jaw.

“Let’s go,” he said to Jared, “before I kill our new trail guide.”

The trail led out to a clearing after about a mile. No, not a clearing, a lake. It was totally frozen over, and it stretched out a long way to both sides. Derek grimaced and began walking around.

“What are you doing?” Mikel asked.

“Walking.”

“Can’t we just go over it?” the boy asked impatiently.

“Don’t be stupid,” Derek said. “We’re going around.”

“It will take so much more time,” Mikel whined.

“I will stay so much more alive,” Derek retorted. “But by all means, if you would like to crawl across, be my guest.”

“It’s frozen over, dolt-head,” Mikel said.

“Like I said,” Derek replied. “You are welcome to test the ice’s integrity.”

“You’re such a little-”Mikel cut off as Derek spun on him abruptly. His face actually paled slightly, which was satisfying.

Derek walked carefully out onto the lake, just a few feet, and then stomped down. Not overly hard, just enough that a web of cracks spread out from beneath his foot. He slowly retreated across the ice, returning to face Mikel.

“If that,” he said, pointing at the cracked ice, “happened all the way on the edge, how thin do you think it is in the middle?”

Mikel tried to look angry, but the alarm in his eyes was clear. He finally just nodded.

Walking around the lake took a painfully long time, and the sun was getting dangerously close to the horizon.

“How far away is this cabin of yours?” Derek asked over his shoulder.

“Um, close?”

Derek looked sharply at Mikel. The boy seemed much less certain now than before. His already pale skin now matched the snow, and he leaned heavily against Jared.

“I swear, if you’ve led us on a wild goose chase-” Derek growled.

“Derek,” Jared said softly. “Let’s just keep moving.”

Derek glowered for a moment, then nodded. Jared was right. They didn’t have time to waste. The air was already growing uncomfortably crisp. If they were still outside after sundown, they could very well freeze out here.

They followed Mikel’s directions for another mile or so, and Derek grew increasingly concerned. What if they were lost out here? He imagined freezing to death and being buried in the next snowfall, his body lost and forgotten.

They finally broke out into a large clearing. There, in the center, standing like the castle of a king, was a wooden cabin.

The boys settled inside, all three collapsing with weariness. Mikel lay on a large couch, forcing the brothers to sit shoulder to shoulder on a smaller sofa. The air was not particularly warm, but the walls provided shelter from the wind and snow.

“Are there heaters in here?” Jared asked, nose and ears bright red with cold.

Mikel snorted. “This is a summer cabin, kid. What do you think?”

“I’m just as old as you,” Jared scoffed. “I’m hardly a ‘kid’.” It wasn’t entirely true. Jared was one year younger than Mikel’s sixteen. Derek had eighteen months on Mikel.

“Call your dad and get us out of here,” Derek said irritably. “I don’t fancy spending the whole night here.”

“Can’t,” Mikel said blandly. “Phone’s dead.”

Derek stared at him blankly, then glanced around the room, noting the many power outlets. “Then charge it, moron.”

“Leg hurts too bad,” Mikel replied, waving his phone in the air. “You’ll have to do it.”

“Better yet, I can shove you off that couch and drag you to an outlet by your leg,” Derek growled. Jared, however, just sighed, stood, and snatched the phone away to plug it in.

They waited a good five minutes before the stupid device had enough charge to make a call. Then they waited another five before the secretary let Mikel talk to his father. A long conversation followed, during which Mikel’s face grew ashen and his voice trembled. Derek felt a spiteful tinge of glee at the boy’s distress.

The cabin was dark and cold before help arrived. The brothers’ parents were there first, sweeping the boys into vicious hugs and doting over them incessantly. They insisted on waiting for Mikel’s parents to arrive before leaving, much to Derek’s dismay.

Finally, a sleek black pickup truck roared into the driveway, breaking the silent night like a thunderclap. Instead of looking relieved, Mikel looked…resigned.

Mikel’s father marched into the cabin. He ignored everyone else and turned directly to his son. “You wrecked the Yamaha?”

Mikel ducked his head. “Yes.”

His father snorted. “Just one more thing I have to pay for. Get in the car.” With that, he stomped back out, leaving snowy footprints in his wake.

Mikel kept his head down as he struggled to his feet. He limped painfully after his father.

Derek’s family sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

“Well,” his mother finally said. “It’s late. We should get home.” She looked after Mikel’s limping form. “That poor boy.”

That poor boy. Derek pondered that for quite a while on the ride home, warm inside the old rickety truck’s cabin, listening to his father crack jokes and his mother express her endless relief to find them okay.