but hard, and coated with bluish ice. The sled moved forward, and Jonas grinned with delight,
looking forward to the breathtaking slide down through the invigorating air.
But the runners, this time, couldn’t slice through the frozen expanse as they had on the other, snow-cushioned hill.
They skittered sideways and the sled gathered speed.
Jonas pulled at the rope, trying to steer, but the steepness and speed took control from his hands
and he was no longer enjoying the feeling of freedom but instead, terrified, was at the mercy of the wild acceleration downward over the ice.
Sideways, spinning, the sled hit a bump in the hill and Jonas was jarred loose and thrown violently into the air.
He fell with his leg twisted under him, and could hear the crack of bone.
His face scraped along jagged edges of ice and when he came, at last, to a stop, he lay shocked and still, feeling nothing at first but fear.
Then, the first wave of pain. He gasped. It was as if a hatchet lay lodged in his leg, slicing through each nerve with a hot blade.
In his agony he perceived the word “fire” and felt flames licking at the torn bone and flesh.
He tried to move, and could not. The pain grew. He screamed. There was no answer.
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