Chapter 179: Snow Mountain: Eight People, Each with Their Own Story

Chapter 179 Snow Mountain: Eight People, Each with Their Own Story

While the crowd in the hall was discussing the current situation, Everly was not idle either.

Cup in hand, she sipped her milk while quietly observing everyone present.

At this point, she had every reason to suspect that she had stumbled into a classic "snowed-in lodge" style thriller—

A sudden avalanche, severed contact with the outside world, and a group of people trapped in a lodge... Just look at the stacked elements—it would be a shame to waste this snowstorm if a string of murders didn't follow!

So what would happen next in the lodge? A grudge killing? Or perhaps, trapped too long on the snowy mountain, the people present would fall into infighting over uneven supply distribution, eventually descending into savagery over scraps of food?

After observing everyone in the room, Everly felt both scenarios were possible.

The lodge was small, but it still hosted quite a few guests. Besides Everly's group of four, the middle-aged couple, and the girl at the front desk, there were eight other lodgers in the hall.

All eight lodgers seemed to have a story behind them.

The first lodger, the guy with glasses, had been sitting by the fireplace reading since his first appearance, dressed like a gentleman from a bygone era. Despite his youth, he carried himself with a deep, steady air, and he also had a handsome face. A guy with that kind of vibe, in a movie, would be either the hero or the big bad.

The next batch of guests was the four suspected students. The two guys and two girls were always together, no matter what, clearly a group.

Among the four, one guy was tall and burly, not bad-looking, but with a thuggish swagger in his movements that came off as a bit sleazy. There was also a girl wearing nothing but designer labels, her nose always in the air with an air of arrogance. In contrast, the other two were cowering and docile, easy to overlook. Who was in charge and who was the pushover among the four was obvious at a glance.

Connected to the second group was the older, short and stout man. When the four young people exchanged opinions, they occasionally communicated with him, and they seemed to defer to him as their leader.

That left the last two guests—one was a quick-tempered red-haired young man, and the other was a frail-looking blonde woman. This pair was odd, too.

When they stood together, they were physically close, with the man casually slipping his arm around her waist. From that alone, their relationship seemed quite good, but upon closer observation, every time the man embraced the woman, she'd stiffen up and subtly pull away.

...

Just from a quick once-over, Everly had picked up on more than a few subtle red flags among the lodgers, and she felt it was highly likely that conflicts and infighting would break out among the guests later.

If this were a movie, she would gladly grab some popcorn and a soda, sit back, and watch the drama unfold. But unfortunately, she had wandered onto the movie set and become part of the show.

No matter what stories existed among these people or how the plot would unfold in the future, for her own safety, she'd do everything in her power to keep things under control—sorry, but that's just how it had to be.

With that thought, Everly looked across the table and shared a glance with Old John.

Receiving his granddaughter's signal, Old John, who had long been prepared, nodded almost imperceptibly. He set down his cup, rose from his seat, raised his hand, and clapped to draw everyone's attention, gesturing for everyone to calm down.

"Listen up, everyone. Don't panic—what you're worried about isn't going to happen, because when we set out, we brought a satellite phone as a precaution."

"Satellite phone? What's that? Can you use it to contact the outside?"

"Yes, unless there's extreme weather, even in remote mountains, a satellite phone can still connect with the outside world normally... Everly, would you mind going to my room and bringing the satellite phone from my luggage?" With that, Old John pulled a room key card from his pocket.

"Sure!" Everly answered brightly, took the key card, left the hall, and jogged upstairs.

Back in the hall, Old John kept talking.

"Once the satellite phone arrives, we'll call 911 and let the outside know that 15 people are trapped at Yormore Lodge. But before the phone gets here, we'd better take stock of the lodge's food and fuel supplies and plan out our usage for the coming days..."

"Can't we just contact the rescue team right away? There's no need to bother taking inventory," the short, stout man suddenly interjected, cutting off Old John.

Old John didn't take offense. In a measured, unhurried tone, like he was talking to a naughty grandkid, he patiently explained:

"Because the outside rescue resources are limited, and right now, compared to us with our food and shelter, the folks buried at Burns Ski Resort need help way more urgently. I think the rescue team will likely have us hold out on the mountain for a while—that's why I suggested taking stock. For one thing, we need to know exactly what we have and plan our consumption for the coming days; for another, the rescue team will also need that information over the phone."

"I see..."

"The old gentleman makes a good point."

At that, except for the short, stout man, who looked a little put out and displeased, everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Since the phone hasn't arrived yet, let's head to the kitchen and storage room first," the lodge owner, Joshua, suggested.

No one objected.

So, led by the middle-aged couple, the whole crew trooped out and headed toward the kitchen in the west corner of the first floor.

As the last figure disappeared through the kitchen doorway, no one noticed a slim figure darting by without a sound across the staircase in the middle of the hallway...

Following the lodge owner and his wife, the group took inventory of the food and fuel in the kitchen, cold storage, and utility room.

The lodge was currently in its peak season. To avoid food shortages that might upset guests, the owner and his wife had stocked up plenty in advance. If three meals were served normally, it could feed the 15 people here for about five days. If portions were strictly controlled—not aiming for nutritional balance or variety, just barely meeting basic survival needs with a little extra—the time could stretch to eight or nine days.

Compared to food, fuel was a bit tighter. With more guests recently and the harsh mountain climate, the lodge's boiler needed to run 24 hours a day, piping heat to every room.

The boiler ran on diesel, so the lodge's diesel supply was already running low. Joshua, the owner, had planned to go buy more the day after tomorrow, but then the avalanche hit today.

Fortunately, besides the boiler, the lodge had fireplaces and a tall stack of firewood against the wall.

If they didn't insist on a high standard of living, reduced boiler usage, used the wood-burning fireplace during the day, and only ran the boiler for two to three hours at night, they could probably hold out for six or seven days.

As a last resort, they could also collect gasoline from the cars parked outside and burn it for warmth.

Looking at it that way, with some frugality, everyone could survive here for at least a week.

Hearing that estimate, the expressions in the hall relaxed considerably.

"Tap tap"—just then, a light, quick footstep sounded. Everyone turned to see Everly clutching the satellite phone, breathing heavily, rushing down the stairs.

"Sorry, sorry—I mixed up the password on my grandfather's lockbox and spent ages trying to get it open... Did everyone wait long?" Everly blinked, putting on an innocent, naive look, and flashed an apologetic smile at the crowd.

"No, no, we just finished up over here."

"So this is a satellite phone—first time I've seen one."

People are always more willing to extend kindness to the good-looking. Though Everly had dawdled and arrived a bit late, given that she'd brought the phone, everyone was quite friendly.

Handing the satellite phone to Old John, Everly stepped back, retreating to the side to resume her role as a carefree, airheaded girl.

Then, under the expectant gaze of the group, Old John dialed 911.

Sure enough, just as everyone had feared, the rescue team—composed of fire, police, and National Guard units—had taken forever to assemble and had only just set out, heading for the ski resort at the mountain's foot. As for the lodge less than two kilometers from the resort, sorry, no one had even noticed there were people trapped there needing rescue.

On the call, the operator tallied the number of trapped people and their physical conditions, said they would contact the rescue team immediately, and noted that if needed, the team would call back on this satellite phone—please keep it available.

After hanging up, all that was left was to wait.

The lodge owner's wife, Layla, called over the front desk girl, Minnie, and went with her to prepare food for everyone. From their conversation, Minnie seemed to be the owner couple's daughter, helping out during the holidays—a close-knit family.

Meanwhile, to conserve fuel, Joshua, following Old John's suggestion, went into the boiler room and shut off the burning boiler.

Without heating, the entire mountain lodge soon turned cold. Only the hall retained some warmth, thanks to the blazing fireplace.

To wait for the rescue team's callback, everyone stayed put in the hall, settling onto the sofas to warm themselves by the fire.

Everly and three others were squeezed onto one sofa, the stout man and the couple sat on the sofa across from them, four students crammed onto another sofa, while the bespectacled man, more of a loner, stood by the window reading instead of squeezing in with the others.

With no phone signal and nothing better to do, the stout man kicked off the classic round of introductions.

He introduced himself as Samuel, a botany professor at a university. The four people with him were his graduate students. The five had come to Nathan Jorja Mountain to study the ecology of the cedar forests on the snowy peaks.

"Professor Samuel is quite renowned in botanical circles, having made major breakthroughs in the artificial cultivation of cushion plants, and even the journal of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences has published his papers!" chimed in Daniel, the guy with the roguish look.

The girl decked out in designer brands was Fatima, who piled on the flattery: "That's right, thanks to his research achievements in desert endangered plant conservation, the professor's also been elected president-elect of the American Society of Plant Biologists. Once the current president steps down, the professor will become the new president."

Hearing his students' praise, a smug look he couldn't hide spread across Samuel's plump face.

Unfortunately, the others present didn't know much about these things.

Sure, the journal of the American Academy of Sciences, the American Society of Plant Biologists—they sounded impressive and intimidating, but that was about it. As outsiders, they didn't grasp how remarkable those achievements were, so their reaction to Samuel was pretty lukewarm.

After a few half-hearted "mm-hms" and "ohs," the introductions moved on.

Next up was the couple with the weird vibe.

The boyfriend was the young man with red hair, named Jones, and the blonde woman beside him was Hilda. Both were employees at the same company, a classic office romance, and they'd only recently made it official. Jones had planned a Christmas ski trip way back in July, booking a cabin at Yormore Snow Mountain, and once they became a couple, they simply decided to vacation together.

Next was the bespectacled man, who gave Everly a mysterious vibe. He called himself Lucas, a freelancer, and said he'd come to the mountain to unwind.

When it was Old John's turn with his group, to avoid any unnecessary hassle, the old man just said he was bringing his granddaughter and her friends for skiing.

"Then why do you carry a satellite phone with you? Forgive me for being blunt, but that kind of professional gear isn't something regular folks would shell out big money for," Lucas, the bespectacled man, suddenly put down his book, his gaze sharp, staring straight at Old John.

If you know it's rude, then why ask...

Everly didn't like his pushy, interrogating attitude, and any slight fondness she'd had for Lucas based on his looks instantly evaporated.

Old John, being older, was more tolerant of the young, and being looked at with suspicion didn't bother him. However, he clearly didn't want to reveal his identity either, so he vaguely said, "Because this is a snowy mountain, and phones often lose signal, so I brought what I thought might be necessary."

Lucas stared at the old man's weathered face for a moment, then let his gaze drift down Old John's sturdy, thick arms, pausing on his large, calloused hands with prominent knuckles. After a moment of silence, he nodded: "Understood. Sorry, I'm just a bit overly curious."

Old John smiled and said nothing more.

Just when they thought that was the end of it, the bespectacled man, after observing Old John, turned his attention to Everly and the other two sitting nearby.

"And these three..."

"Beep beep!"

At that moment, the satellite phone on the coffee table rang.

Everyone had been waiting for the rescue team's callback, and in an instant, all eyes turned to the phone on the table.