Chapter 26

This isn’t how I saw today going. A rescue mission is not a wise idea. In fact, it’s flat out fucking foolish, but there’s a person up there who needs help. It doesn’t matter that it’s Scottie—though the fact that it is gives me one more reason to be pissed at her. I can’t believe she’d be so foolhardy. She’s a smart woman, smarter than this.

At the six-mile mark, I stop to rest. Digging my crampons out of my bag, I slip them over my hiking boots and pull ski goggles over my eyes to keep the windburn at bay. After zipping my bag, I chug some water and keep going. I’m used to pushing my body to the absolute limit during fire season, but this storm is turning ugly. At a certain point, my self-preservation will kick in and I’ll need to make the decision to turn around. I’ve done several alpine climbs over the United States. I love traversing over the spine of a mountain and making the linkup to the next peak, but this storm is making conditions brutal.

How have I not run into her yet? What if I never do? She could have lost the trail somewhere along the way, and we could be ten miles away from each other. Is she taking shelter? I think back to earlier, and she didn’t appear to have gear for an overnight trip. This route is set up for day hikes, out and back. She should be back .

I check my watch. It will be dark in a few hours. I’m running on pure adrenaline, which has allowed me to move at a pretty good clip. I’ll give her one more hour, then I’ll have to turn around. I tuck my water into my bag and keep going. I’ve got to cover as much ground as I can before dark, or I won’t have a chance.

Whatever is keeping her up on this mountain can’t be good. With each minute that passes, the likelihood of her being injured goes up, and the odds of me finding her dwindles. I shout her name into the wind and scan the landscape for any sign of her. She only had a sweater on earlier. She could be dead from exposure alone if she didn’t have an outer layer.

Why wouldn’t she turn around when the weather got bad? The Scottie I know wouldn’t be so hellbent on a summit that she’d risk exposure, but there’re a lot of things about Scottie that I had wrong.

Toward the summit, scrambling is required in one of the sections with scree. It’s easy enough for hikers with experience, but the ground is less stable. Mountaintops are subject to extreme temperatures and erosion year-round. The fractured ground is loose and more dangerous than it is at lower elevations. Hikers, or even a strong gust, can trigger rockfall, depending on the conditions.

Why this woman? The only person I hate more than her right now is myself. I never should have slept with her, and now I’m risking my life for someone who lied. The ache in my knee has me wishing I’d wrapped it before attempting a second climb.

Clearing a copse of trees reveals the boulder field and switchbacks ahead. I cup my hands over my mouth and yell, “Scottie!”

I scan the open switchbacks and detect an out-of-place section. There’s a rock formation that looks odd from this angle? What the hell is that? It’s almost like an optical illusion of a small overhang, but it’s too high up to see.

Once I get through the boulder field, the switchbacks begin. Each spans approximately 200 to 300 feet, and I resist scaling straight up the side. My knees can’t take it. After the second switchback, I’m given a vantage point of the landscape I’ve already hiked through. I squint through my goggles, looking for any sign of movement off the paths. Nothing.

She and I are the only ones out here, but we might as well be on opposite ends of the earth. Glancing up, I furrow my brow and wrench off my goggles to see if it helps me gain perspective, but with the bright snow swirling around and sticking to everything, it provides no further insight. Probably my eyes playing tricks on me, but any sudden change in landscape is bad.

Another switchback down and I notice a large rock in the middle of the path that’s at least as high as my knees. I wouldn’t have missed that earlier. My heart pounds in my chest, urging me to pick up the pace. Another rock. Then another. And another. The higher I climb, the more peppered the area is with debris of varying sizes.

I purge the image of her lifeless form from my thoughts as quickly as it appears. I can’t handle another dead body. Injuries… She’s injured. We won’t be able to get back down in time if she’s wounded. My hand finds my pocket, and I run my fingers through my key ring. That might be my only option.

As I round the bend, I crane my neck to look ahead and almost freeze in my tracks when I see one of the biggest boulder blockages I’ve ever witnessed. The dread of seeing that boulder is nothing compared to the fear that strikes me when my gaze lands on a backpack. Scottie’s backpack.

As I get closer, my stomach lurches. The thought of her being crushed under that giant pile has me bending over and nearly throwing up. Why would her backpack be off? I look out from the ledge and cup my hands .

I shout her name as loud as I can, trudging over to her bag. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’m panting when I hear a faint noise. It’s so hard to hear over the wind. It could’ve been my imagination. Maybe it was nothing. I scream her name again, and this time, I hear it… It’s weak, but it’s there.

“Help!”

My eyes gape. “Where, Scottie? Keep yelling!”

She says she’s underneath, but she can’t be trapped under the boulder, or she wouldn’t be alive. Even a much smaller rock could have killed her instantly. There’s a small pile of rubble, so I begin pulling away the loose bits of dirt and stone.

“Here!” she shouts.

I drop my cheek down, prying my goggles off and squinting inside the opening. It’s dark, but there’s some daylight showing through. “Scottie?”

“Yes!” she sobs. “I tried to squeeze under.”

I stumble back at the sound of her voice, my relief soaring. I swallow and drop to her level. “How do I get to you?”

“I dunno…” she chokes out. “I’m stuck. Tried to squeeze through.” Her words shake like she’s being racked with shivers. Even her chattering teeth can be heard over the air whistling through the narrow opening. She’s been here awhile—it’s a miracle she’s still alive.

“I’m gonna get you out, baby. Just stay calm.”