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Authors: Cari Hunter
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attempt to make her way down.
A bolt of lightning split the sky, static electricity charging the atmosphere and making the hairs on her arms prickle. Thunder immediately followed in its wake, a furious percussion that smashed off the mountains. As the freezing rain lashed her, she tried and failed to prize open any of the shutters fastened across the windows of the shelter. The door would not budge an inch, even when she shoulder-charged it. Soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably, she winced at the electrified hiss and roar of the storm. She tried to console herself with her experience of the European Alps, reminding herself that even the most ferocious of storms there could sometimes burn out and pass over within minutes, sweeping out as abruptly as they swept in. In the absence of any real plan, that made her decision for her. She returned to the side of the steps, where she unfolded the survival bag she had packed almost as an afterthought, and she somehow managed to wriggle into it in spite of the wind ripping and tugging at the thick plastic. She tucked her hands between her thighs for warmth, raised her knees to her chest, and settled down to wait.
*
Through vertical sheets of rain, Alex could just about make out the shape of the small boat nearing the jetty on Ross Lake. A gust of wind barreled into it, throwing it wildly off course, until its skipper managed to correct its bearings and its tentative progress resumed.
“Hey there!”
Her hail carried on the wind, and one of the two young men waiting on the shore waved cheerfully as she walked over. The smile left his face as she drew closer, and he turned to confer urgently with his companion.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure the skipper’s done this hundreds of times,” Alex said, as soon as she could be heard without raising her voice.
“Sorry, we thought you were someone else,” the taller of the men said in a strong Australian accent, continuing to scan the trail behind her as he spoke. “Friend of ours—well, a friend as of last night. She went up Desolation on her own this morning, and…” He gestured in the direction of the mountain and then shrugged helplessly. Its lower slopes were barely visible, the summit completely shrouded by the storm.
His companion squeezed his bicep in reassurance. “We were going to go up after her,” he said, “but it got so bad we figured we’d only be causing more problems, and then there’d be three of us wandering aimlessly out there.” He opened his hands in frustration. “We’re fucking useless at this survival lark. We tried to phone the ranger station, but there isn’t a hope in hell of getting a signal in this.”
Alex nodded, her brow furrowed with concern. “I’ve got a radio. Should be able to get through to them. I can give them a heads-up that there might be a rescue pending. Oh, whoa, catch hold of that.”
The sodden rope hit the jetty with a thud, and the Australian stamped his foot on it to stop it from slipping into the water. Together, the three of them managed to haul the boat into place while the boat’s skipper jumped out to moor it securely. Without pausing to exchange pleasantries, he began to throw their bags aboard.
“You getting on too, ma’am?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort it had taken him to negotiate the crossing safely.
Forcing her gaze away from the storm that was battering what should have been her destination, Alex shook her head. “No, you get on out of here.”
The skipper nodded brusquely, disinclined to waste time by arguing with her, but the other two men hesitated.
“What are you going to do?” The Australian had obviously tracked her line of thought.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Carry on up a little way, hope that I meet her on the way down.” She gestured for them to get on board. “Go on. I’m sure she’s fine.”
The men climbed onto the boat, where they hung on to the sides as the wind buffeted them and
A bolt of lightning split the sky, static electricity charging the atmosphere and making the hairs on her arms prickle. Thunder immediately followed in its wake, a furious percussion that smashed off the mountains. As the freezing rain lashed her, she tried and failed to prize open any of the shutters fastened across the windows of the shelter. The door would not budge an inch, even when she shoulder-charged it. Soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably, she winced at the electrified hiss and roar of the storm. She tried to console herself with her experience of the European Alps, reminding herself that even the most ferocious of storms there could sometimes burn out and pass over within minutes, sweeping out as abruptly as they swept in. In the absence of any real plan, that made her decision for her. She returned to the side of the steps, where she unfolded the survival bag she had packed almost as an afterthought, and she somehow managed to wriggle into it in spite of the wind ripping and tugging at the thick plastic. She tucked her hands between her thighs for warmth, raised her knees to her chest, and settled down to wait.
*
Through vertical sheets of rain, Alex could just about make out the shape of the small boat nearing the jetty on Ross Lake. A gust of wind barreled into it, throwing it wildly off course, until its skipper managed to correct its bearings and its tentative progress resumed.
“Hey there!”
Her hail carried on the wind, and one of the two young men waiting on the shore waved cheerfully as she walked over. The smile left his face as she drew closer, and he turned to confer urgently with his companion.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure the skipper’s done this hundreds of times,” Alex said, as soon as she could be heard without raising her voice.
“Sorry, we thought you were someone else,” the taller of the men said in a strong Australian accent, continuing to scan the trail behind her as he spoke. “Friend of ours—well, a friend as of last night. She went up Desolation on her own this morning, and…” He gestured in the direction of the mountain and then shrugged helplessly. Its lower slopes were barely visible, the summit completely shrouded by the storm.
His companion squeezed his bicep in reassurance. “We were going to go up after her,” he said, “but it got so bad we figured we’d only be causing more problems, and then there’d be three of us wandering aimlessly out there.” He opened his hands in frustration. “We’re fucking useless at this survival lark. We tried to phone the ranger station, but there isn’t a hope in hell of getting a signal in this.”
Alex nodded, her brow furrowed with concern. “I’ve got a radio. Should be able to get through to them. I can give them a heads-up that there might be a rescue pending. Oh, whoa, catch hold of that.”
The sodden rope hit the jetty with a thud, and the Australian stamped his foot on it to stop it from slipping into the water. Together, the three of them managed to haul the boat into place while the boat’s skipper jumped out to moor it securely. Without pausing to exchange pleasantries, he began to throw their bags aboard.
“You getting on too, ma’am?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort it had taken him to negotiate the crossing safely.
Forcing her gaze away from the storm that was battering what should have been her destination, Alex shook her head. “No, you get on out of here.”
The skipper nodded brusquely, disinclined to waste time by arguing with her, but the other two men hesitated.
“What are you going to do?” The Australian had obviously tracked her line of thought.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Carry on up a little way, hope that I meet her on the way down.” She gestured for them to get on board. “Go on. I’m sure she’s fine.”
The men climbed onto the boat, where they hung on to the sides as the wind buffeted them and
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