Chapter 27

I force myself to push aside the impending panic attack and focus on the task at hand. Time to problem solve. The barricade is at least twelve feet tall. Some areas are closer to fourteen. Thankfully, I’ve been rock climbing and soloing since I was a kid, which allows me to spot a few handholds, but this is not a secure rock wall. Any of these could slide, taking me with it or crushing Scottie below.

First, I pick up her backpack by one of the straps and launch it over the heap. Almost positive it cleared the other side. I’ll find out in a minute, because I’ve got to climb over this thing to get to her.

Pulling off my gloves, I stuff them in my bag, along with the key ring in my pocket. My fists clench as I plan my route across. The wind isn’t doing me any favors, and in addition to being fucking freezing, it’s whipping up loose dirt in my face, so I’m grateful for the ski goggles. When I feel confident enough in the path I’ve chosen, I jump to seize my first handhold, instantly slip and hit the ground, stumbling backward a few steps. I try again, and on my second attempt, gain leverage.

My knuckles bloom white as I hang from the ledge and stretch with my free hand to the next target. The rock is large but could be loose, so I’ll have to act quickly. I go for it, but the boulder shifts and my fingers miss. I shoot an arm out to an opening above, and thankfully, it’s got a good chunk of grit that provides me with better purchase. Glimpsing down, I place a foot on a small lip on another boulder just as the rock next to it gives out. I freeze, waiting for the next movement. This is easily the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done.

A crevice in one of the rocks allows me to clasp it with my left hand. My fingers tremble as I move to the next mark and the one after that. As I traverse across the pile, there’s noticeably more gravel on this end. A little gravel is fine, but a lot can reduce friction.

My heart races. If I can get to the footing on my left, I’ll be able to get a better view of the other side. This fucker better not even think about rolling on me. I transfer one hand, falter, then throw an arm up and grab onto a sharp lip of the boulder that cuts into my fingers. I roar through gritted teeth, pulling myself up. There’s no choice but to grip it harder, bringing with it a pulsing pain. My foot finds a divot and pushes off while I reach for a different section. I feel around for anything, and finally, brush against something to hold onto. Then I wrap my hand around it, let go of the razor edge of the rock, and grunt as I haul my body over the top.

“Hell yeah,” I huff, wiping my palm on my pants and smearing blood across them.

I creep closer to the inner wall, wanting to distance myself from any rocks with the potential to slip or cause a collapse.

My body shakes as I cling to the slab and use my right arm to brace against the mountain wall while I plan my next move. The top of the boulder pile comes to a point, and I straddle it, swinging my other leg over an angled rock that slopes away from the mountain and toward certain death.

“I will not lose my fucking footing,” I mutter .

Inching across laterally allows me to make it to the other side safely. However, I’m not exactly thrilled with what I find.

There’s a drop-off. A big one. The slab of rock I’m on overhangs the ground below. Something shifts below me, and the slab tilts even steeper. I’m suddenly acutely aware of what a precarious spot I’m in. I need to move—now. I’ve got no choice but to drop off the side. There are no more options, not from here, and with the amount of scree below, it’s only a matter of time before these giants start to act like marbles. Not to mention, Scottie is underneath this mess.

Cursing the wind, I roll onto my belly and ease my legs over the side. My biceps and forearms are shaky as I battle for muscle control. I peek over my shoulder, and the drop doesn’t seem so bad. I’m six feet tall, but my vertical reach is about eight feet, which means my drop is probably only around four feet once I’m suspended off the end.

I lower my torso over the side. I just need to dangle over the edge, extend my arms to bring myself as close to earth below as I can, and then… let go. Except this fucking slab veers again, so I shove off as hard as I can, turning my four-foot drop into something closer to seven. I fall into a patch of scree and shuffle back as the slab slides off the massive boulder and over the mountain ledge. The crack of it colliding with the rocky landscape echoes from below. Holy shit.

I tumble back but miraculously find traction underfoot. I feel nothing as adrenaline hammers through me. Scottie.

She’s in what appears to be an empty shaft between the boulders and the mountainside. Peering behind an almost three-foot tall rock, my eyes catch on one of her hiking boots. I wrap a hand around the heel and shake it. “Hey. I’m with you.”

“Cal.” Her sob is full of renewed hope. She’s a first responder, so the idea of death must have been in her thoughts for a good amount of time, and that’s bound to fuck up anyone’s psyche. If I hadn’t gotten here when I did, she probably would have been right.

“Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m c-c-cold.” Her teeth chatter and the words are stuttered. That could be from the cold or a concussion. “Really cold,” she repeats.

“As soon as I get you out, we’ll get you warmed up. Just sit tight.”

“Mm-hm.” She sounds sleepy.

“Don’t go to sleep, just keep talking to me. What hurts?”

Carefully, I roll a few rocks out of the way.

“Headache. Don’t feel much.”

Fuck, if she doesn’t feel pain, she might feel nothing. “Do you feel your legs?”

“Did before.”

“Keep your eyes open, hear me?”

“Mm-hm.”

How did she even get in here?

“You with me?”

“Mm-hm,” she squeaks.

Moving into position, I grip her ankles. “I’m gonna pull, yell if you need me to stop. The more you can wiggle yourself out, the better off you’ll be.”

She rocks her hips as I tug, wriggling her body in jerky motions. She’s fighting for it. Thatta girl.

She shouts with a hoarse voice over the wind.

“What is it?”

Nothing.

“Scott—”

“Pull!” she cuts me off.

As I do, her hips twist and she jolts, releasing a small yelp.

“More!” she yells.

I grasp her calves and continue. Soon, her knees are out, and she’s able to roll to her back, scooting and wiggling side to side .

“Keep your head down! Slow!” As more of her body clears the space, I see she’s bracing one arm with the other like she’s injured. Her hands look like that of a corpse. What’s with her shoulder? Did she dislocate it? Is that what the yelp was?

When her face emerges, a smile spreads across mine, but quickly falls. Holy shit. She’s been out here too long, and there’s a big gash on the perimeter of her hairline, but at least she’s out. Her light-ginger hair is a chestnut brown, matted with blood and dirt.

“Hands too cold. Take my arm, pull it forward, and guide it back into the socket… Grab it.”

I gape at her. Okay. “Forward like in front of you or forward like in the direction you’re laying?”

“Straight in front of me.”

“Shit. Ready?”

She nods. I follow her instructions, and she winces, then rolls to her good side and pushes off the ground to get to her feet. Her fingers are as white as the snow swirling around. I curl my arms around her waist and help her up, then put her hands together between mine and blow my hot breath on them a few times, rubbing them. Afterward, I snatch the gloves from my bag and fit them onto her stiff fingers. Her teeth chatter again, and I wrap my arms around her body.

“Let’s move.”

I want to put as much distance as I can between this pile of rock and us. She has a limp, so I glance down. “Can you walk?”

“Jus’ cold. Need to c-cir-late.”

I furrow my brow. Huh?

“Needa walk!”

Circulate.

“Why the hell were you out here with a storm? What the fuck!”

She glares at me, her eyes cussing me out more than her words ever could. It’s the first spark of fire I’ve seen in her. Good, she will need that feistiness for the trek we have ahead of us.

“Gimme my pack… First aid… Hand warmers.” I’m getting better at translating her garbled words.

I drop to my knees and rifle through her backpack until I find them, then tear open the plastic wrap and shake up the pouches. There are four, but only three heat up. She leans against the mountainside while I unlace her boots and shove two of the working ones deep inside near her toes, then re-tie her back up again.

“How’re we gonna get down?” she asks, bewildered.

I chuckle, zip up her backpack, and slip out the water bottle, making her drink while I find another pouch in my bag to replace the dead one.

She takes it from me. Then stuffs her water in her bag and attempts to hoist it on her back. She grimaces as she slides it over her recently dislocated shoulder. I try to take it from her, and she yanks it back, glaring.

“Scottie, give me your bag. You can’t carry that with your injury.”

“I’ve got it!”

I shake my head at her stubbornness. I’m not going to bicker with her. “We’re not going down.”

“Yes we are! I’m not dying up here!” She stumbles to the side and catches herself with her good arm on the mountainside. She’s barely steady on her feet.

“I don’t have gear to get you over this wall, and you’re in no condition to do it yourself.” I shout over the wind. And I’m not climbing that fucking thing again; we’ve both tempted fate enough as it is. We need every bit of luck we have left to get us to the top.

“Gotta be another way down.” Her gaze scans the surroundings. “You know the mountain. Find another way.” I rip off the goggles from around my neck and place them over her red eyes and tighten the strap behind her head.

“Scottie, we have to go higher. We’re past getting off the mountain tonight. We need to seek shelter.”

There’s a tower at the top we can stay in until the storm blows over.

“Where!?” She sobs. “There’s nowhere! If we go higher, we’ll freeze!”

I shake my head, getting frustrated with her. We don’t have time to argue. Like she said, I know this mountainside better, so if we’re going to survive, I need her to follow my lead. She’s starting to panic, and if she doesn't fall in line now, it’ll cost both our lives.

“Even if the path wasn’t blocked, we’re eight miles from the parking lot… but the trail is gone . We can either go higher and find a new route down, which will be more than eight miles, or we can go to the summit and take shelter at the fire tower.”

“The wind will blow us off the mountain!”

The storm coming in is big. It’s our only shot.

“What’s the rule of threes?” I ask.

“No.” She frowns, and tears swell in her eyes, fogging up the goggles. I loosen them to clear the condensation. I don’t know how else to make her understand the severity of this situation.

“What is it?” I demand.

“Three weeks without food. Three days without water. Three hours without shelter in extreme cold.” She’s still not speaking properly.

“Exactly.” I put an arm under her. “Now move.”

She trudges with me. “I don’t know how long I’ve been out here. I was un—uncon?—”

“Unconscious,” I finish for her. “Then move faster.”

She’s unstable with stiff legs and struggling keep up, so I tuck an arm around her and haul her with me.

“What if I can’t do it?”

“You’re going to do it. Because I’m going to make you,” I growl. “You did not bring my ass up this mountain just to die. There’s not a ton of daylight left, so pick up your pace, Scottie, I mean it!”

“You’re a dick.”

If she’s too scared to fight the mountain, I’ll force her to fight me instead. Whatever it takes to give her the gumption to keep one foot in front of the other. I’ll be an asshole all the way to the top if it keeps her moving.

“Stop talking and walk,” I snap. I hate being this callous with her, but I need her to survive. Anger seems to be her only motivation. I promise to apologize and make it up to her later.

Surprisingly, she does what I ask, and we make it around to the last switchback. This one is only about one hundred and fifty feet long. As soon as we reach the top, there’ll be a false summit, where we can get into the cover of trees, which will hopefully block out some of the wind. Hopefully. From there, we’ve got a mile hike to the tower. Uphill.