Excerpt of Cold Sweat by J.S. Marlo

The snow glistened in the early morning sun and the air
sparkled with tiny crystals, changing the mountains into
a picturesque Christmas card.

Quest loved the serenity and beauty of winter with as
much passion as she loved skiing and shooting.

Her skis glided on the trail, packing the fresh snow into
two parallel lines every time she raced down a hill and
adding crisscross design to every slope she climbed.
Ahead of her, a cute blond guy with dark brown eyes and a
smile that could melt a glacier, groomed the trail. The
vibrations of his machine sizzled through Quest’s body,
but as the distance between them grew farther, the
sensation faded away.

Her rifle bounced on her back, unloaded, a comforting
ally in her silent world. Alone on the trail, Quest
didn’t bring any ammunition for target practice and
didn’t wear her bothersome transmitter. Later on, once
she rejoined the other athletes, she would rectify both
situations.

To give her brief reprieves from the white noise she must
endure in order to hear, Coach Goldman had requested that
special accommodations be made. Thanks to him, Quest had
been granted permission to train in the early morning
solitude of the sleepy mountains, outside the normal
hours of operation. Alone. She appreciated the
consideration.

As she ventured deeper into the forested area, the naked
trees cuddled closer against the evergreens, blocking her
view of the valley below.

Being invited by her coach to the altitude training camp
at Snowy Tip had been a dream come true. Convincing her
mother and grandfather to let her take the year off and
postpone her entrance to Princeton University in order to
train full-time for the Olympic trials had required
grueling efforts and perseverance.

White clouds formed around her mouth with every breath
she took. After two months in Montana, her lungs had
adapted to the lower atmospheric pressure. She no longer
felt the effect of the altitude. The trials were three
weeks away. She was as ready, mentally and physically, as
she’d ever be.

Beads of perspiration trickled between her shoulder
blades, quickly whisked away by the microfiber undershirt
she wore like a second skin. Every piece of clothing and
equipment played a role, down to her gloves from which
she’d cut off the tip of the right index finger to better
feel the resistance of the trigger when she fired.

The flat section ahead curved around a frozen pond. Red
markers delineated the perimeter of the ice surface in
case some skiers were tempted to cross over.

A yellow light reflecting over the white blanket of snow
caught Quest’s attention. She looked over her shoulder.
Two snowmobiles headed in her direction. The last one
pulled a rake on the ground, mimicking the grooming
effect and erasing her ski tracks.

Puzzled by their presence on the trail, she moved to the
side to let them pass. As they approached, they slowed
down before stopping a few feet away from her.

Despite the cold and wind, the ski masks covering their
faces weren’t common attire among maintenance
crewmembers. One driver stood up. Big and stocky in his
black snowsuit, he looked more like a man than a woman.

Trying her best not to appear intimidated, Quest glanced
back and forth between the two of them as she tried to
decipher which one led the pack. “Is there a problem,
guys?”

The lips of the closer individual moved. “Hope Craig?”

Only strangers, and her mother, called her Hope.

“Who wants to know?”

He pulled a gun on her.

“No reaching for your rifle. You’re coming with us.”