Chapter 1

I SURVIVED THE CHILDREN'S BLIZZARD, 1888

CHAPTER 1 JANUARY 12, 1888 PRAIRIE CREEK, DAKOTA TERRITORY AROUND 10:00 A.M. A deadly blizzard raged across the prairie, and eleven-year-old John Hale was trapped in a frozen nightmare. The wind screamed in his ears as he

staggered through the blinding snow. His whole body was numb. The monster storm had come out of nowhere, a massive black cloud moving faster than a train. The temperature plunged. The wind howled. And then, Roooaar! The sky exploded like a bomb, blasting snow and ice through the air. Ground-up ice raked John's eyes like tiny claws. The furious wind pounded him, tore at him, spun him around. He felt like he was locked in a cage with a furious beast trying to rip him to pieces. And then a screaming gust picked John up and slammed him down. He tried to rise to his feet, but the wind was too strong. Snow was piling on top of him, burying him in an icy grave. John felt his flesh freezing on his bones. His body's warmth was seeping out of him, like blood leaking from an open wound.

John had never wanted to move west, to this wide-open prairie. He was a city kid, not a tough pioneer. And now the maniac wind was hissing in his ears, taunting him. You're weak! You'll never make it! You're doomed! That terrifying, evil wind was the last sound John heard as he was buried alive.