and snapped-off parts scattered on both sides of the mountain. On one expedition, Hugh had watched climbers from a half dozen countries pass a dead Frenchman sitting in a perfect throne of ice beside the trail. He’d been there so long he’d become a landmark. At those altitudes, it cost too much time and effort to bury any but the ones that blew down to the flats, usually many years later.
“We’ve got a team on the way to the summit,” the ranger said. “They’ve been going all night. Once day breaks, Augustine will lower down to her.”
“The man we met last night?” Rachel said.
Hugh studied the situation. The shadows were useful, a way to gauge how far the body hung from the wall. Ten feet, he guessed. But above the hollow of the Eye, a brow of stone jutted out still farther. Even if Augustine could line up his descent just right and hit the dime, he’d still be facing a gap of twenty or thirty feet to the body. “It’s going to be tricky,” he said.
“Augustine’s the best we’ve got,” the ranger said. “Meanwhile we’ll keep searching the floor. It’s going to be slow going. There are niches and crannies all over, and we’re shorthanded. After nine-eleven, half the rangers got pulled from Yosemite to help guard dams and bridges.”
It was an invitation to join them. But Hugh saw the Kirk Douglas dimple in Lewis’s chin tighten. His vote was no. Hugh handed back the binoculars. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled from above,” he told the ranger.
The ranger didn’t beg. “Good enough.”
“The season’s getting late,” Lewis explained. “Every day counts.”
“There’s always next season,” the ranger said.
“No there’s not,” Lewis said.
“Oh, they’ll quit,” Rachel told the ranger. “But first they have to go through the motions for the sake of pride. They’ll come down. They’ll sneak out from the forest when no one’s looking.”
The ranger smiled at her little joke, then realized it was no joke. No one spoke for a moment. The generator roared, pouring light into the darkness.
“You’ll be close to the rescue team’s fall line,” the ranger finally said. “Watch your heads.”
They walked back to Rachel’s rental car. She was in a quiet fury. “You’re not going to help? You’re obsessed.” She was close to crying. “They could be your daughters.”
“Rachel,” said Hugh. “If there was a chance anyone might be alive, we’d join them in a heartbeat. But you saw for yourself. It’s over for them.”
She glared at him. He was the traitor, not Lewis. She’d given him a chance at her last night. He could have chosen romance. Instead he was going off toward death. She was trembling. “This is so ugly, I can’t tell you.”
Hugh had wanted things to be all right between them, to get her blessing, or a simple good-bye. That wasn’t going to happen. He felt momentary panic, an old nightmare, the lizard king rearing up from the desert. You’ll lose her forever. Did he dare?
He forced himself to breathe. You go forward. That’s why he’d come, not like Lewis, who wanted to go back. Searching for the dead…he couldn’t do that anymore.
Lewis started to change his mind. He saw an opening with her, or thought he did. “I could stay, if it means so much to you,” he said.
Rachel pointed at El Cap. “Go,” she said, “just go.”
Hugh slugged his rucksack onto one shoulder and stepped back to let Lewis say his good-bye. Without another word, she climbed into the car and closed the door and left them standing by the road.
SEVEN
It is a strange fact that tourists never venture through the screen of trees between the road and El Cap. They park their cars and pull out their picnic baskets and lawn chairs and cameras and binoculars to watch from the meadow, always sticking in safe numbers to the far side of the road, never suspecting that the strip of forest separating one world from another is scarcely a quarter mile deep. The trees serve as a
“We’ve got a team on the way to the summit,” the ranger said. “They’ve been going all night. Once day breaks, Augustine will lower down to her.”
“The man we met last night?” Rachel said.
Hugh studied the situation. The shadows were useful, a way to gauge how far the body hung from the wall. Ten feet, he guessed. But above the hollow of the Eye, a brow of stone jutted out still farther. Even if Augustine could line up his descent just right and hit the dime, he’d still be facing a gap of twenty or thirty feet to the body. “It’s going to be tricky,” he said.
“Augustine’s the best we’ve got,” the ranger said. “Meanwhile we’ll keep searching the floor. It’s going to be slow going. There are niches and crannies all over, and we’re shorthanded. After nine-eleven, half the rangers got pulled from Yosemite to help guard dams and bridges.”
It was an invitation to join them. But Hugh saw the Kirk Douglas dimple in Lewis’s chin tighten. His vote was no. Hugh handed back the binoculars. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled from above,” he told the ranger.
The ranger didn’t beg. “Good enough.”
“The season’s getting late,” Lewis explained. “Every day counts.”
“There’s always next season,” the ranger said.
“No there’s not,” Lewis said.
“Oh, they’ll quit,” Rachel told the ranger. “But first they have to go through the motions for the sake of pride. They’ll come down. They’ll sneak out from the forest when no one’s looking.”
The ranger smiled at her little joke, then realized it was no joke. No one spoke for a moment. The generator roared, pouring light into the darkness.
“You’ll be close to the rescue team’s fall line,” the ranger finally said. “Watch your heads.”
They walked back to Rachel’s rental car. She was in a quiet fury. “You’re not going to help? You’re obsessed.” She was close to crying. “They could be your daughters.”
“Rachel,” said Hugh. “If there was a chance anyone might be alive, we’d join them in a heartbeat. But you saw for yourself. It’s over for them.”
She glared at him. He was the traitor, not Lewis. She’d given him a chance at her last night. He could have chosen romance. Instead he was going off toward death. She was trembling. “This is so ugly, I can’t tell you.”
Hugh had wanted things to be all right between them, to get her blessing, or a simple good-bye. That wasn’t going to happen. He felt momentary panic, an old nightmare, the lizard king rearing up from the desert. You’ll lose her forever. Did he dare?
He forced himself to breathe. You go forward. That’s why he’d come, not like Lewis, who wanted to go back. Searching for the dead…he couldn’t do that anymore.
Lewis started to change his mind. He saw an opening with her, or thought he did. “I could stay, if it means so much to you,” he said.
Rachel pointed at El Cap. “Go,” she said, “just go.”
Hugh slugged his rucksack onto one shoulder and stepped back to let Lewis say his good-bye. Without another word, she climbed into the car and closed the door and left them standing by the road.
SEVEN
It is a strange fact that tourists never venture through the screen of trees between the road and El Cap. They park their cars and pull out their picnic baskets and lawn chairs and cameras and binoculars to watch from the meadow, always sticking in safe numbers to the far side of the road, never suspecting that the strip of forest separating one world from another is scarcely a quarter mile deep. The trees serve as a
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