Firestorm

Chapter Twenty-two

Jac crawled off the ledge, got her legs under her, and braced her body against the rising wind. Her pulse stopped racing, and her stomach settled with her first step onto stable ground. The snowfall formed a solid wall of white now, and she focused on Mallory’s dark silhouette just ahead of her as she pushed forward into the gale.

“Over here,” Mallory shouted, pointing to a story-high outcropping of boulders.

Following the brief break Mallory forged in the frozen tapestry, Jac ducked under a slight overhang, hunched against the rough rock face next to Mallory, and turned her head out of the driving wind and snow.

“How do you feel?” Mallory asked. Ice crystals caked her lashes, melting on the dark filaments like weeping diamonds.

“I’m good.” Jac saw the words deflected by the stormy surface of Mallory’s eyes, but she recognized pain where others saw only cold reserve. Mallory was blaming herself for the accident. “I’m alive. You’re alive. All that matters now is the mission.”

“We need to turn back. You’re injured and I can’t leave—”

“No. I can keep going.” Jac raised her injured arm to demonstrate. “Strength’s coming back. Must have banged the nerve a bit. No harm done.”

“My fault,” Mallory said tersely. “I shouldn’t have let you cross—”

“Mallory, we’re partners out here. A team.” Jac lowered her arm, giving her aching shoulder a rest. “If I hadn’t wanted to cross and hadn’t thought it was safe for you or me, I would’ve said so.”

“I’m still the boss, team or not. I’m sorry.” Mallory stared straight ahead, her jaw set, her cheeks pale beneath the windburn that painted a crimson swath high on each arched cheekbone.

“Look,” Jac said, refusing to let Mallory shoulder blame when there was none, “I know the statistics as well as you do. I know how many rescuers are injured or worse. If it wasn’t dangerous out here, those kids would’ve strolled down the mountainside yesterday. We don’t have time to beat ourselves up. Deal?”

“You’re right,” Mallory said, some of the tension easing from her face. She turned until their eyes met and smiled gently. “How’s your shoulder really?”

“Hurts like a son of a bitch.” Just seeing the shadows recede from Mallory’s eyes made Jac’s pain fade. “But it’s not broken, and the strength is back in my hand. I’m good to keep going, but I don’t think I can climb, at least not right away.”

“If this snow keeps up, we’re not going to be going anywhere for much longer.” Mallory brushed the moisture off her face impatiently. “We knew weather was coming, but I hoped we’d at least have today.”

“Let’s push on. We’ve still got some time.”

“Are you sure? I’m not risking you getting hurt again.” Mallory cupped Jac’s jaw. “I want to find them, but I can’t chance losing you.”

The words came out in a low, tortured whisper, as if Mallory didn’t want to say them, didn’t want to feel the fear that reverberated in her voice. Jac’s heart hurt for her, but Mallory didn’t need her sympathy. Wouldn’t accept it if she offered.

Jac removed her glove. “Give me your hand.”

Mallory’s brows furrowed, but she took off her right glove and held out her hand. Jac took her fingers and squeezed, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make her point. Mallory’s fleeting grin said she’d made the right move.

“Believe me now, Boss?” Jac relaxed her grip but kept hold of Mallory’s fingers. The heat of Mallory’s hand in hers was welcome in the bitter cold, but the connection warmed her in places far deeper. Mallory was a touchstone, a solid comfort she’d long ago stopped seeking. “Mal, I—”

“All right, Russo, I believe you.” Mallory slid her hand free. “But if you have any trouble at all, I want to know about it. No heroics.”

Jac nodded, not trusting herself to speak. What had she almost said? Not anything she ever expected to feel and definitely not anything Mallory wanted to hear. Mallory had made it clear over and over—Mallory didn’t want anything from her except her best in the field. The same thing Mallory wanted from all the other members of her crew—nothing more. When had she started wanting more—and how quickly could she stop?

Jac shoved her hand back into her glove. “No problem. All I want is to find them and get off this mountain.”

“Good enough. Let’s—” Mallory’s radio crackled.

“Rescue C-ten-two,” Sarah announced over the rescue channel. “We have one of the climbers. He said the other two are near the mountain crest. One injured.”

David Longbow’s voice cut in. “Approximate coordinates?”

Sarah responded with the location, and Mallory pulled out her map. “This is rescue C-ten-one. We’re half a mile below their location.”

“Can you make it with the weather?” David asked. “We can’t get a helicopter up there until morning at the earliest.”

Mallory hesitated and Jac knew why. Mallory was still worried about her, but if they didn’t get to the other two climbers, no one else was going to until at least the next day when the storm relented and visibility improved. By then, those two kids could be dead.

“Tell him yes, Mal. I’m fine and we can’t stay here. Might as well keep moving.”

Mallory nodded sharply. “We can make it, David.”

“Radio your position every half hour.”

“Roger that.”

Jac got to her feet and slung her pack over her good shoulder.

“I want to keep a line between us,” Mallory said as she stood and attached her rope to her harness.

Jac ignored the rope Mallory held out to her. She was the most likely to fall—even though she felt strong, her balance was a little off from shifting the weight in her pack to one shoulder. If she fell, she’d pull Mallory down with her. “I think I’m better off—”

“That’s the only way we’re doing this, Russo. Your choice.”

Jac didn’t see she had much choice. Maybe she was too used to going it alone. When she stared down an IED, it was just her and the bomb. She had teammates, but she took the long walk out to duel with death alone. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Mallory said. “I know it goes against your nature, Jac.”

Mallory’s understanding melted the last of Jac’s resistance, and she tied on to Mallory’s lead line. “You be careful too. You’ve still got a few things to teach me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, rookie. I’ve got plenty in store for you.”

Laughing with a surge of pleasure, Jac pushed off in Mallory’s footsteps.

*

Mallory fought her urge to go quickly. Too many rescuers ran into trouble when rescue fever made them jettison judgment in the rush to get to the victims. Visibility was almost zero, despite at least an hour of daylight left, and the footing was getting more treacherous with every step and every new inch of snow. She checked her GPS again. They couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards away from where the lost climber had estimated his friends were located. She gripped the line connecting her to Jac and tested the tension, some of the tightness in her chest easing when the resistance on the line told her Jac was behind her, moving in tandem with her. She didn’t try to talk to her. Her voice would never carry over the howling wind. If she turned to look for her, she probably wouldn’t see more than a blurry outline in the clouds of snow. Knowing Jac was there was enough to keep the images that haunted her from breaking her concentration. She couldn’t afford to see the ledge giving way, couldn’t let the memory of Jac disappearing into the void burn a hole in her brain. The terror still skirted the edges of her mind, threatening to cripple her if she couldn’t keep the panic at bay.

For a few horrible seconds after Jac had fallen, she’d stopped breathing, her heart threatening to burst from the agony. She’d thought nothing could be as horrible as emerging in the ashes of the blow-over last summer, of surveying her team and realizing she was missing two men. She’d prayed never to feel anything like that excruciating despair again. She’d sworn never to put herself in the position where she might lose everything. She’d do anything, everything, to ensure her team was always safe. She’d guard against personal affection, she’d steel her heart against caring. She would never be vulnerable again. But she hadn’t counted on anyone like Jac—so open, so honest, so fearless. Jac pierced her armor as if she were completely exposed and defenseless. She couldn’t let herself care this much. She had to find some way to stop it.

Mallory clambered over a rocky verge onto more level ground, dotted here and there with lone scraggly pines and enormous boulders. Jac came up beside her.

“How much farther?” Jac shouted.

“We’re close,” Mallory replied. “They probably don’t have a light by now. Hopefully they found some kind of shelter. Let’s check out the rocks up ahead.”

Jac gripped Mallory’s shoulder. “Let’s untie. If we search independently, we’ll make the most of the daylight left.”

Mallory hesitated. The idea of Jac being out of her sight made her stomach roll. She battled her racing heart and made herself consider their objective dispassionately. Jac was right. She was more than capable. She would be fine. “All right. Double-check your radio now.”

Nodding, Jac unhooked her radio, walked a few feet away, and spoke into it. Mallory’s radio crackled and Jac’s voice came over.

“You’re good,” Mallory called.

Jac returned, her dark eyes burning through the snow between them. “You be careful too.”

“Check in every five minutes.” Mallory pointed to a looming rock formation in the center of the field of boulders. “The one that looks like a snowman. That will be our center point. I’ll take left of there, you take right, and we’ll meet there, all right?”

“Got it. See you soon.”

Jac turned away and within seconds was swallowed up by the storm. Mallory’s throat was dry, and the coppery bite of fear filled her mouth. She swallowed, blanked her mind. The mission was all. She’d see Jac again soon.

Five minutes later, she checked in with Jac. “Anything?”

“Not yet.”

At ten minutes and fifteen, the response was the same.

Mallory reached the far side of the boulder field and circled toward the rendezvous point, battling frustration. When her radio crackled, hope surged.

“Mallory,” Jac said urgently, “I’ve got them.”

“Where?”

Jac reeled off the coordinates. Mallory checked her GPS, adjusted her path, and hurried forward as quickly as she could in the rapidly waning light.

She found Jac kneeling over two huddled figures on the lee side of a pile of boulders. The snow-covered climbers were barely recognizable as human forms, and in the dark, Mallory suspected they would have passed right by them. “Are they alive?”

“Yes, but both are unconscious.” Jac stood. “We need to get them someplace out of this storm. They’re both really cold.”

Mallory looked around. No caves, no forest. They were out in the open with nothing but rocks as windbreaks. She pointed to the cliff face. Snowdrifts several stories high rose from its base. “We’ll need to dig a snow cave. There’s no telling how long this storm will last or how much snow we’ll get. You know how?”

“I’ve never done it, but I know the principles.”

“There’s a good buildup on that rock face. Dig in three feet before you angle up. We don’t need a big cave, just enough for the four of us. I’ll call David with our position, and then I’ll get these two ready to be moved.”

“All right.”

Jac set off and Mallory radioed to base. “Rescue C-ten-one. Come in base.”

David’s voice crackled from her radio. “Go ahead, Mallory.”

“I have two injured,” Mallory said. “Both hypothermic. We’re digging in, David.”

“Roger. Will dispatch a helitack at first light if the weather breaks. Check in every hour.”

“Will do.” Mallory clipped her radio on her belt, shrugged out of her pack, and set it beside the two inert figures. She checked their necks for pulses. The girl’s was steady and slow, but the boy’s was thin and thready. She fished her penlight from her pack. His pupils reacted sluggishly, and in the dim light a large bruise over his left temple was apparent. Probably he had fallen, and the girl had elected to stay behind with him, sending the third member down the mountain for help. After positioning a soft cervical collar on each victim, Mallory pulled two thermal blankets from her pack and covered them. She didn’t want to start intravenous lines until she and Jac moved them to a more stable location. In the few minutes she’d had her gloves off to treat the climbers, her fingers were nearly frozen.

“Can you hear me?” Mallory said close to the girl’s ear. “I’m a paramedic. We’re going to take care of you.”

She got no response from the girl or her male companion. They were both dangerously hypothermic. She shoved her penlight into her pocket, propped the FAT kit as much out of the snow as she could, and trudged through the thigh-high drifts to where Jac dug. Freeing her shovel from her equipment pack, she started to dig in the tunnel Jac had started.

“Hey.” Jac backed out of the tunnel and crouched next to Mallory. “I’m about to angle up now. Soon as I make a little room, you can get in next to me, and we can dig together.”

“Okay. The sooner we get them inside, the sooner I can get some fluid into them. They’re both shocky. And we’ll need to get some heat.”

“Okay. Just give me a minute.”

“How’s your shoulder? Why don’t you let me dig for a while?”

“I’m holding up. We can switch on and off if we have to.”

Mallory wanted to protest, she wanted to take care of her, but she needed to respect Jac’s judgment. “Okay.”

Jac squinted as snow blew into her face. “How are they?”

“Critical, and not much we can do out here but try to keep them from getting any colder.”

“Guess I better get digging. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mallory touched Jac’s face with her gloved fingertips. “Don’t play hero if your shoulder wears out.”

“Not me.” Jac grinned and crawled back into the cave.

After a few minutes that felt like a year, Jac called Mallory into the tunnel. Jac had set her flashlight in the middle of the floor, and they worked shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space, scraping snow from the walls and ceiling, and pushing it out through the tunnel. Within minutes, they had created a domed space just big enough to accommodate four people. The closer they were crowded together inside the cave, the more their shared body heat would help to warm them. Jac used the handle of her shovel to push through the roof and create a vent hole.

“Nice work,” Mallory said.

Jac wiped sweat from her forehead, her eyes glittering with fierce determination. “Let’s go get them.”

Mallory wanted to kiss her—because she was fierce, because she was strong, because she was beautiful. She squeezed her arm. “Good idea.”

The distance from the climbers to the cave was only a few hundred feet, but it took them nearly forty minutes to move them, one at a time, bracing their necks and protecting their spines, ensuring that whatever injuries they might have weren’t worsened. Once they had them both inside and positioned on their backs in the center of the cave, Mallory started intravenous lines and infused a saline and glucose solution to help counteract shock and provide some minimal nutrition. While she worked, Jac carved out a ledge for the flashlight-sized portable heater.

“There’s not much more I can do.” Mallory sat back on her heels, her back against the ice wall. “I don’t see any obvious extremity fractures, but the boy clearly has a significant head injury.”

“Here.” Jac passed a nutrition pack to Mallory. “Eat this.”

Mallory took the foil pack, her fingers brushing Jac’s. The warmth of Jac’s skin shot through her arm. “Thanks.”

“I have a good internal clock,” Jac said. “We should try to get some sleep. I can wake up every hour to check them.”

“Make it every two. I’ll split the duty with you.”

“Good enough.” Jac settled down on the far side of the boy, stretching out so her front rested against his side.

Mallory did the same on the other side of the female climber, sandwiching the two victims between them to keep them as warm as possible. Impulsively, she reached over the two and gripped Jac’s arm. “You’re solid, Jac. I’m glad it’s you with me.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Jac’s hand closed over hers, and Mallory didn’t have the strength to pull away. She closed her eyes and held on to the comfort she needed so badly.