Read Online Northern Exposure by Debra Lee Brown - Free Book Online Page A

“Did you find the compass?”
    She could just make out the pass, and could seehe wasn’t there. Where had he gone? She was beginning to get cold. Her anorak had a miniature temperature gauge hanging from the zipper. She drew it up close to her face, squinting in an attempt to read the tiny numbers. Forty-six degrees. Brrr. Summer in Alaska, what a treat.
    â€œJoe?” she called again.
    This time she got an answer.
    Another shower of rocks let loose from above. A sharp-edged missile glanced off her temple, startling her. “Ow! What the—”
    â€œWendy!” It was Joe’s voice, and she had to admit she was glad to hear it.
    Covering her head with her hands, she started up the trail toward him.
    â€œHurry!”
    The rock shower became more violent. She hunched over, using her backpack to shield her, and trudged upward. Something hot stung her right eye. She swiped at it with a hand, and her fingers came away wet.
    â€œNo, wait!” he called. “Go back! Wendy, go back!”
    â€œWhat?” She hunkered down under an overhang, pressing herself close to the wall of rock on her right, and squinted up the trail. “Joe, I can’t see you.”
    What she did see was—
    â€œOh, God.”
    Rock slide didn’t describe it, not by a long shot.
    It looked as if the whole side of the ridge had given way above her. Chunks of shale and volcanic rock pummeled the trail in a raucous staccato, bouncing and skipping off the cliff face, then the ledge, and shooting out into space.
    Wendy let out a half shout, half scream, working desperately to keep her footing. She heard the tumble of rocks below her in stereo as they hit the bottom of the valley, the sound echoing off the surrounding mountains.
    â€œI’m coming down!” Joe’s voice again. “Stay where you are!”
    But she couldn’t stay where she was. Loose scree and dust was fast filling in the crevices between the larger rocks that had caught and held on the ledge. The trail was literally disappearing around her. A minute later and she’d be trapped under the overhang.
    â€œJoe!” She had to move. Up was out of the question. The trail was almost gone in front of her. How would he get to her? She realized he probably wouldn’t, he couldn’t—not in time, anyway—and that she had to do something to save herself. Now.
    Down. She had to get down.
    Wendy moved, or rather crawled, backward on hands and knees, the blue backpack protecting her from the worst of the rock fall. The slide wasn’t as bad in this direction. Three feet felt like three miles, but she made progress.
    She knew her hands were cut, and a sticky warmth she realized was blood kept trickling into her eye. Not that she could see more than a few feet in any direction, anyway. The dust was thick as smoke.
    She heard Joe somewhere above her, shouting, but she couldn’t make out his words. She should try to help him, but how? What could she do? She felt helpless, useless, and that made her mad.
    The shower of debris lightened, and as the dust began to clear, Wendy crawled forward again, callingJoe’s name, toward the overhang that had sheltered her. She felt her way upward, reaching blindly ahead of her for the next handhold.
    Her scraped and bloodied palm connected, at last, with something solid.
    â€œI’ve got you!” he cried, and pulled her up.

Chapter 5
    â€œI was fine.”
    Joe zipped the two-man backpacker’s tent closed and shot Wendy a hard look. “You were not fine.”
    Even under the harsh beam of her flashlight, cut and bruised and bloodied, and as tightly wound as she’d ever seen any man, Joe Peterson looked good to her.
    And that was a bad thing.
    â€œI’d made it down, past the rock slide. I was out of danger.” She handed him the first-aid kit she’d paid $34.95 for in an Anchorage sporting goods store. “The only reason I climbed back up was to