"Do those look like rain clouds to you?"Korbie asked, frowning as she pointed at a cluster of dark clouds sprouting above the treetops to the north. "How is that even possible? I checked the weather before we left. Idaho was supposed to get rain, Wyoming wasn't."
"It will pour for a couple minutes and then the sky will clear." If you don't like the weather in Wyoming, hang around five minutes. So the saying went.
"It had better not rain a single day we're up here,” Korbie huffed with more indignation. I wondered if she was thinking about Rachel and Emilie sunbathing on Waikiki Beach. I knew how much Korbie had wanted to go somewhere tropical for spring break. I thought it said a lot about our friendship that she was with me now. We fought, sure, but we were solid. Not many friends would give up the beach for hiking in the mountains.
"I read in a guidebook that rain has something to do with the warm and cold air up here always bumping together,” I murmured idly, keeping my eyes glued to the road. "At this altitude, water vapor can turn to ice, which has a positive charge. But rain has a negative charge. When the charges build up, they create lightning and we get a storm."
Korbie lowered her sunglasses down her nose and gawked at me. "Do you also light fire with sticks and navigate by the stars?"
I let go of the steering wheel long enough to give her shoulder a shove. "You should have at least glanced at some of the guidebooks your dad bought you."
"You mean the guidebooks that taught me that a human can subsist on rabbit droppings if faced with starvation?" She wrinkled her nose. "That was the first and last time I picked up a guide. Anyway, reading a guidebook would have been a waste, since my brother will take charge and boss us around."
Calvin wasn't going to be in charge. Not this time. I hadn't trained this long and hard just to hand over control.
Soon after, the sky glowered a dark, dirty gray. The first drop of rain splashed like ice on my arm. Then another. Three more. In a matter of seconds, the rain was pattering down steadily, splattering the windshield with tiny pinpricks of water. I stopped the Wrangler in the middle of the road, since there was nowhere to pull off.
Korbie swatted the raindrops like they were mosquitoes.
"Help me put the top up,” I said, jumping out. I raised the soft top, indicating that she should latch it down. Opening the tailgate, I unrolled the window and fastened the straps. By the time I finished, I was thoroughly wet, the hairs on my arms standing stiff from cold. I slicked water out of my eyes and zipped up the side windows. Finally, I secured the Velcro seam and leaped back inside the car with a violent shiver.
"There's your negative charge,” Korbie deadpanned.
I pressed my cheek to the cold window and peered up at the sky. Violent gray storm clouds stretched in every direction. I could no longer see any blue, not even a crack of it on the horizon. I rubbed my arms for warmth.
"I should call Bear and give him the heads-up,” Korbie said, speed-dialing him on her phone. A moment later she slumped back in her seat. "No phone service."
We'd only made it another couple of miles before the rain broke from the sky in a torrent. A stream of fast-moving water gushed down the surface of the road. Water splashed up over the tires and I worried about hydroplaning. The windshield wipers couldn't remove the water fast enough; the rain beat down so furiously, I couldn't see where I was going. I wanted to pull over, but there wasn't a shoulder. Instead, I steered as far to the right of my lane as I could, parked, and turned on my hazard lights. I hoped if anyone drove up behind us, they'd be able to see the lights flashing through the downpour.
"I wonder what the weather's like in Hawaii,” Korbie said, using her sleeve to clear the fog accumulating on her window.
I tapped my nails on the steering wheel, wondering what Calvin would do in my shoes. It would brighten my mood tremendously if, tonight, I could report to him that I'd weathered the storm, no problem.
"Don't panic,” I murmured aloud, thinking it sounded like a good first step toward success.
"It's downpouring, we have no cell phone service, and we're in the middle of the mountains. Don't panic. Sure,” Korbie said.
CHAPTER THREE
The rain didn't let up.
An hour later, it continued to stream down the windshield, thickening to slush. It wasn't quite snow. A few more degrees, though, and it would change. I was still parked in the road, and I'd left the engine running almost the whole time. Every time I turned it off to conserve gas, both Korbie and I started shivering violently. We'd changed into jeans and boots, and put on our winter coats, but the extra clothing hadn't kept off the chill. For better or worse, nobody had driven up behind us.
"It's getting colder out,” I said, chewing my lip nervously. "Maybe we should try to turn back."
"The cabin can't be more than an hour away. We can't turn back now."
"It's coming down so hard I can't make out the road signs." I leaned against the steering wheel, squinting through the windshield at the yellow diamond-shaped sign ahead. The black markings were completely illegible. It had gotten dark awfully fast. The clock showed after five, but it might as well have been dusk.
"I thought the Wrangler was made to go off-road. I'm sure it can handle the rain. Just give it a lot of gas and get us up this mountain.”
”Let's wait ten more minutes, see if the rain stops." I didn't have a lot of experience driving in a downpour, especially one this severe, with gusting wind. The growing darkness only compounded the low visibility. Right now, driving, even at a crawling pace, seemed dangerous.
"Look at the sky. It's not stopping. We have to keep going. Do you think the windshield wipers will hold up?"
It was a good question. The rubber was wearing away from the metal skeleton, which etched into the glass with a soft squeak.
"Maybe you should have replaced them before we left,” Korbie said.
Good of her to point that out now.
"On second thought, I'm worried this weather might be too much for your car,” Korbie continued in a smoothly concerned voice.
I kept my mouth shut, afraid I'd say something I'd regret. Korbie's digs were always like that-under the carpet. She had the whole guilelessly undermining thing down to an art.
"They've really improved off-road vehicles over the years, haven't they?" she added just as sleekly. "I mean, the difference between your Wrangler and my SUV is remarkable."
I felt my back go up. She was turning this into a competition, like always. I would never tell Korbie, but last summer, during a sleepover, I'd peeked in her diary. I thought I'd find secrets about Calvin, things I could playfully tease him about later. Imagine my surprise when I found two side-by-side lists comparing Korbie and me. According to her, I had better legs and a more defined waist, but my lips were too thin, I had too many freckles, and therefore I was only generically cute. She had the better bra cup size, better eyebrows, and she weighed ten pounds less than me-of course she failed to mention she was three inches shorter! The list took up two pages, and I could tell by the changes in ink color that it was ongoing. She'd given each feature a point rating, and added up our score totals. At the time, she had me beat by a safe ten points. Which was ridiculous, since she'd given her manicure five points more than mine and we'd gotten matching ones at the same salon.