Alphas in the Wild (22 page)

She came up beside him, coiling rope as she moved close. “I know. We’re making good time.” She barked a short laugh. “Funny, I didn’t expect the clear weather to hold this long.”

“Me, either. Let’s make hay while we can.” He shucked his pack and pulled his crampons from one of the outer pockets. Buckling them with mitts on was nearly impossible. He sat on his pack, fitted the steel spikes to his boots, and attached them as fast as he could. “Brrrrr” He shoved his hands back into his mitts, sighing when their residual warmth soothed his aching fingers.

“Cold and clear. Doesn’t get much better than that for climbing.” Tina bent to put on her crampons. “I got this newer kind with snap buckles. Don’t have to take off my gloves.”

“I looked at those. Then I went home and counted how many pairs I already own. It was hard to justify a couple hundred bucks for what would have made the twenty-fifth set. They never wear out.”

She laughed. He loved how she tossed her head and the musical quality of her laughter. “Are you still sharpening them yourself?”

“You bet. Still making my own climbing hardware too.”

“Chomoly pitons?”

He grinned. “Yup. I still have the set I made for you.”

“You always reminded me of a Renaissance man. So self-sufficient...” Her voice trailed off. “Someone’s been trying to talk with me.”

His pulse sped up. He batted down apprehension—and hope—flaring in his chest. “For how long?”

“Since we were just a few minutes out of camp. I’m not certain who, but I don’t think it’s Mururata. I know what he sounds like. These voices are different.”

“Can you understand them?”

“No. They’re speaking something that sounds like a cross between Aymara and Spanish. Though it’s hard to be sure, it seems like they’re pissed because I’m using English to communicate.”

Craig slitted his eyes. “Makes sense. If it’s Illimani or Illampu, they’d speak whatever the native tongue used to be here.” He jumped to his feet, unable to sit still. “Those legends you read came from somewhere. There must’ve been a time when the spirits and human inhabitants of these parts were able to communicate.” He took two steps to where she sat and clapped her on the shoulder. “Maybe leaving your blood back there was a better idea than I thought.”

She twisted her lips into a tight smile. “I hope so. I don’t want to die. Or turn into some warped paramour for Mururata. Some things are worse than dying. That’s one of them.”

He hunkered next to her and took her hands in his. “I will not let that happen.”

She gazed at him through the clear lenses of her goggles. “Let’s play this one again from the top. If you’re thinking of bargaining with him and offering yourself in my place, forget it.”

“Tina. I will do whatever I think needs doing. I won’t know what it is until we’re in the thick of things. This is a lot like climbing. Spontaneity and flexibility, eh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Ach, you’re impossible.”

“Watch it. Your Scottish roots are bleeding through. Come on.” He stood and held out a hand to help her up.

She shouldered her pack and turned to face him, running the rope between her hands to straighten it. “You asked me why I chose your trip. It’s because if these are going to be my last hours on earth—or my last as a human before that monster gets hold of me—I wanted to spend them with you.”

His heart leapt. He wound his arms around her, clumsy because of her backpack. “Tina. Darling. My love,” he whispered against the hood covering her hair. Joy swooshed through him, so bright it could’ve lit a small town. There was still hope for them.

“Hey, you’re tangling the rope.”

“My ever-practical doctor.”

“Yep, that would be me.” She leaned into him and kissed him gently before pushing away. “We need to get moving. I just thought I ought to tell you in case— Well, in case something happens and I don’t get another chance.”

He looped the rope around an arm and walked close beside her. “When did you— Uh, I mean, how long have you—”

She laughed. “I knew I made a mistake not marrying you the first time I went climbing without you. It just felt so empty and lonely without you next to me. I’ve done mostly solo climbing since we split up. Never found anyone who fit with me anywhere near as well as you. They were too slow, or too inept, or too arrogant. Part of staying alive up here is just what you said. Being flexible and not clinging to a plan that isn’t working anymore.”

“Why didn’t you hunt me down?”

She shrugged. “Pride, mainly. I kept myself too busy to think about it most of the time.”

Sudden understanding blossomed, but he needed to hear her say it. “That’s not all.”

“What? Is everybody on this mountain psychic?”

“You’re hedging. You’d only been back from South America for a few weeks when I asked you to marry me. I thought about it a lot when I was climbing in the Vinson Range in Antarctica. Came back convinced you were the only woman for me and there was no reason to wait.”

She nodded. “I am hedging. Truth is I was still reeling from what happened here. It was so off-the-wall I didn’t know where to compartmentalize it. And I was in the middle of my second year of residency. Not sure if you remember, but I was assigned to an inner city hospital, and it was tough. Who would’ve thought Denver had gang wars? Whoops. Sorry.” She bent to pull the rope out of a crampon point.

“Here.” He did a better job of coiling the nylon loops around his arm. “This is why you don’t walk side by side. I’m bending the rules, though. I’ve waited a long time for this conversation.”

“Better watch it, Robson. You’re slipping. Break one rule, next thing you know—”

He swatted her on the rump. “Not interested in rules right now. Hell, you didn’t tell me anything seven years ago. Just said you couldn’t marry me and walked out of my life.”

“What happened to me here was so bizarre, I couldn’t find words for it. Part of me thought I might be having a late schizophrenic break. Maybe I’d hallucinated the whole thing, including my time in the crevasse.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “Regardless, whether I was going nuts or my life was on the line, I didn’t want to involve you. Didn’t seem fair.”

“It would’ve been better if you’d let me make that choice for myself.” He tried not to sound reproachful, but it leaked out, anyway.

“There was also my ambivalence about anything—marriage and children, for instance—getting between me and the mountains.”

“You still should’ve talked with me.”

“What can I say? It’s the whole caretaker thing. I make decisions for other people all the time. Most of my patients are too sick to be active participants—”

“Tina.” He latched a hand around her arm. “I wasn’t your patient. I was your lover.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low. “It doesn’t make it any better, but I’ve suffered from my choices as much as you.”

His head snapped up. “Wind. Can’t feel it yet, but I hear it.”

“Me too. It’s just a faint drone, but it’ll be on us in no time. Let’s hurry. I’ll drop behind. We’re faster when one’s in front. Lay into those afterburners. I won’t have trouble keeping up.”

The terrain steepened. Wind swirled yesterday’s snow into patterns. They looked surreal, glittering in the moonlight. If it didn’t get any worse, they’d be fine. Right now it was less than a minor annoyance. Craig checked his bearing from time to time using the GPS function in his watch. It wasn’t as accurate as the standalone GPS, but it was good enough.

He stopped to tap in another wand, but most of his energy was focused on Tina.

He couldn’t believe his good fortune. The only woman he’d ever wanted as part of his life wasn’t lost to him. Energy pulsed with every step. Tonight, he could’ve climbed Everest without supplemental oxygen and had strength to spare.

“The voices are back. What should I do?”

“Be open to them. Thank them. Ask for their help.”

He clicked on his avalanche transceiver. Nothing. It wouldn’t pick up Gunter’s signal until they were within a hundred feet or so. Craig checked his altimeter. He figured they’d find the German somewhere between seventeen-five and eighteen thousand feet. They were already at seventeen-seven. He pulled the radio out and keyed it. No answer. He tried again. “Gunter!”

“What’s going on?” It was hard to hear Tina over the wind. “He’s not responding?”

“No.” Craig slipped the radio back into his pocket. “But it’s not the top of the hour. His radio is probably off.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and cried, “Gunter!” The wind ripped the word away and made it echo strangely.

Tina climbed up next to him and slammed an axe into the slope to stabilize herself. “Nido de Condores has to be close. My memory is it’s the flat area at the top of this stretch.”

“Let’s go.” He powered up the last hundred feet and came out on a flattened shoulder. The upper mountain rose before him like a prehistoric beast. It was stunningly beautiful, with three of its five summits clearly illuminated by the moon.

“I’ve got a signal!” Tina’s voice held a note of excitement. She raced up behind him. “Angle left about twenty degrees. Transceiver says he’s a hundred and twenty feet from us.”

Craig moved quickly. Ever-present wind had scraped snow off the rocks. His crampon points skittered over uneven blocks of talus. He tilted his transceiver so he could see its display.

Yes!

He held the device flat in his hand and followed the arrow. Digitizing avalanche beacons had been a huge step forward. With the older analog ones, you had to walk a grid to find someone. The DTS Tracker in his hand would lead him right to...

“There he is.” Tina moved around him and bent into wind that was worsening by the minute. She fell to her knees in the snow beneath a huge boulder and turned her headlamp on high. Next she pulled her gloves off and tucked them under one knee, her hands busy at Gunter’s neck before they moved down his body.

“How is he?” Craig asked as he moved up from behind.

“Unconscious. Probably a blessing. Could you help me with more light?”

Craig angled his own headlamp to provide extra light. Once he saw Gunter’s gray face, he opened his mouth to tell Tina not to bother. Before he could say anything, she said, “Move a little farther right. Your light helps a lot.” She slid her pack off and retrieved her medical kit, extracting a syringe with a long needle. Climbers used them to inject medications through their clothes. She pulled three vials out of an inner pocket of her parka and loaded the syringe from them before jamming it into Gunter’s upper thigh.

“What’d you give him?”

“Dex, a broad spectrum antibiotic, and a small dose of a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory. His heartbeat’s weak and thready. Left femur’s broken, so he’s lost a lot of blood. It’s why his skin is so gray. We’ll need to reduce it—pull the bone back into place—before we try to move him.”

“I know you’re an MD and I’m just a dirtbag climber, but I think he’s dying.”

“He is dying,” she snapped. “But maybe I can alter the odds. I don’t think he has neurological damage. His pupils are equal and reactive to light. His core temperature is low, but that one’s a mixed bag. It’s probably the only reason he’s still alive. His femur’s bled like a stuck pig, and I’m pretty sure an edge of the broken bone clipped a minor vein when it came through the skin. It’s why his pants are soaked with blood.”

“Are you going to give him something for pain?”

“Why? He’s unconscious. Plus, I don’t want to depress his respiratory function any further.”

The wind blew harder. Craig’s instincts, the ones that had kept him alive in many dicey situations, went on high alert. Clouds appeared out of nowhere. The clear sky vanished. Thick snow fell blanketing them. Tina stuffed her hands back into her gloves and jammed them over her ears.

He knelt in the snow next to her and pulled her hands away from the sides of her head. “Talk to me, Tina.”

“They’re shouting at each other in my head. Christ! I finally know how it feels to be mentally ill.”

“Who?”

She tilted the beam of her headlamp out of the way and turned toward him. “Not Mururata, the other two.” She grappled for her medical kit and slid it back into her pack.

“Humph. Seems like a positive development.”

Gunter’s eyes snapped open as if pulled by an unseen puppeteer. They gleamed silver in the beam from his lamp.

“Holy crap!” Running on nerves and intuition, Craig shot to his feet, placed his hands under Tina’s arms, and pulled her against his body.

“What the fuck?” she sputtered, thrashing against him.

“Hush. Look.” He angled his headlamp beam toward Gunter.

“Shit! If I didn’t know better, I’d think—”

Still looking like a marionette, Gunter jerked upright. He took a step toward Tina, mouth contorted in agony. And then another.

“No!” Tina reached for the young German. “Don’t try to—” Her words were drowned out by an unholy shriek.

Craig yanked her back a few more feet. Adrenaline thrummed along his nerves, driving them into high gear. “Your first guess was right,” he ground out. “It’s not Gunter. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was dead before we got here. That’s why you haven’t seen Mururata. He’s been busy reanimating a corpse.”

“No. Gunter had a heartbeat when I examined him,” Tina insisted. “Mururata doesn’t.”

Gunter’s body took another step toward them. He extended a claw-like hand. “Your companion is clever. I thought I might be more palatable to you if I took on human form. It is time, doctor. Leave his arms and come to mine.”

“Never,” she shouted over the wind.

In one fluid motion, Craig shoved her behind him. “Head down the mountain, Tina. Do not look back. Go as fast as you can, but don’t take any chances.” He thrust the GPS at her. “The wands are programmed into it.”

“Nice try.” She stomped to his side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. “We’re doing this together. Climbing buddies, remember? We don’t bug out when the going gets tough.”

Despite the desperateness of their situation, Craig grinned. What a hell of a woman. He eyed Gunter. He’d brought a cylinder of white gas with him. If he got lucky, he could douse the corpse and set it on fire before Mururata could disengage. He reached into his parka for the gas and a lighter.