Beyond the Summit (26 page)

Late in the morning, they heard a noise like a plane. Searching the sky, Dorje spotted a round machine with a long tail like the one he’d seen land at the small police checkpoint just above Namche when Hillary built the hospital. The Norwegians started yelling excitedly and waving their arms.

“What do you call this thing in English,” he asked them.

“Helicopter,” Royd shouted and took his jacket off to whirl it over his head. They all held their breath as the machine hovered over the Everest Valley. When it turned northeast towards Base Camp, a barrage of Norwegian words spewed from the men’s mouths as they stared in disbelief while it disappeared over the ridge. “They know trekkers are out here but they can’t see us in this damn hole,” Royd said. “Surely there are others like us.”

As a glum silence settled over the group, enthusiasm for path clearing waned. Most of the porters turned back to camp saying they needed water. Everyone did. The sun had softened the snow making work easier. The Norwegians relaxed a little and joked about the long cigars and tall drinks they would enjoy on the French Riviera on their way home. Forty-five minutes after the first sighting, the helicopter reappeared flying toward them this time. Dorje grabbed Hamar’s red jacket and scrambled to the top of the snow bank. Waving it wildly, he watched the helicopter pass farther north over the Cho La.

Stunned, he wondered if they could be that far off the trail, but it was impossible to tell with everything snow covered. He wiped the sweat from his face, grateful for the glasses hiding the disappointment in his eyes. Having heard the dull boom so often in winter, he almost didn’t look up as a fresh layer of soft snow separated from the rock wall a hundred yards ahead and plummeted down its face, exploding like a giant rapid striking a rock and shooting enormous white walls into the air. A second crack and another piece tumbled with a horrendous roar and filled the sky with impenetrable white powder. Then deathly silence. Scanning the high ridges ahead, Dorje saw heavy cornices wind-shaped into giant waves hanging precariously above them. The snow and ice having thawed enough to become unstable by afternoon, it was too hazardous to go on. After a long argument with himself, he reluctantly shoved out the words, “We must turn back.”

The cook met him coming up the path. “What’s happening? We can’t stay here without food and water. The Sherpas are sick and half have swollen eyes. They will go blind. The longer—”

“Think I don’t know that?” Dorje growled as he strode past. Then feeling guilty, he turned to apologize but the understanding cook motioned him on. Going to Beth’s tent, Dorje was surprised to see her lying on top of the bag with her eyes closed. He gently lowered himself beside her.

How could he? With Beth in his arms, he could block out the boom of a falling cornice, hunger, pain, and glaring sun. Only she mattered. He tipped her chin to kiss her, tongues teasing and playing, building to the fervor of rapids hurtling downstream as they made love. Completely spent afterwards, he drifted endlessly as the slanting evening light cast the tent in shadows and the air chilled. Shivering, he knew she must be cold too, but when he started to cover Beth, her skin still felt warm—too warm. Puzzled, he touched her shoulders and arms and then laid the back of his hand on her forehead.

“You feel hot,” he whispered, not certain that she was awake.

“Yes. Have been all day and with a bad headache since last night.”

So that’s why it felt different
, he thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid we wouldn’t make love, and I don’t want to miss a moment with you.”

“You need water. I’ll be right back.”

When Dorje talked to the cook, he learned she had eaten little of the small meal offered that afternoon. “I want her to have water before anyone else,” Dorje told him. “Melt as much as you can tomorrow.”

“I already did today.”

Taking the last two cups from the dining tent, Dorje returned to Beth. Even though the cold had lowered her temperature, she still felt warmer than on other nights. Headaches were common at high elevation, but she had been free of them and was now sleeping lower. None of his clients suffering from altitude sickness ever had a fever. Something else was going on and it scared him. The next morning, he found her sitting slump shouldered. “I’m not doing too well today,” she admitted and looked up at him with eyes that seemed less blue as if the poppies had wilted.

Needing to get her lower yet, he instructed Sangbu to break camp immediately, move to the head of the ravine, and wait until they had cut through to the end. Then they must pass under the cornices quickly and before the afternoon sun made the snow unstable. Needing to work on clearing the path, he asked for a volunteer to carry Beth in a
doko
seat when the camp moved, but no one was willing. The long walk would be difficult enough without food and their eyes burning. Dorje repeated the urgency and finally Pemba’s nephew stepped forward once again agreeing to take her.

The repeated melting during the day and freezing at night had packed the snow, creating a hard crust impervious to the table. Without it, Dorje, the Norwegians, and Lhamu took turns forging a trail. Again progress was slow with Kirk only advancing several feet before breaking through and sinking to his waist, hauling himself out, advancing several steps more, and falling again. With a deep growl, Hamar hurled himself forward, arms flying like a great clawing beast, a feverish sweat dripping from his face.

“Hush,” Dorje whispered pointing to the fragile lip looming directly overhead but he was too late. A cornice broke free and tumbled towards them with great powdery plumes shooting skyward as the avalanche roared and crashed down the ravine.

”Run!” Dorje yelled, turning back towards camp.

The snow thundered past Royd, the last in line, who barely escaped by diving forward face down. “You oversized moron,” he screamed at Hamar. “You just buried an hour’s work. We’ll never get out of this fucking place!”

Ignoring them, Dorje immediately started breaking trail again, but Hamar dragged him out of the way and charged with the ferocity of an angry bull. With everyone working, they finally created a channel wide enough for porters to pass. Once they were clear of the cornices, Dorje announced he was going back for Beth and the others.

Seeing Beth at the head of the ravine and feeling the nightmare about to end, he breathed for the first time all day without his stomach trying to exit through his mouth. Not caring who watched, he kissed her long and hard, whispering his love even though no one else understood English. Her face still felt too warm. Dorje glanced at the cook. “Have you been giving her water?”

“All that we had,” he answered with a haggard expression, and Dorje realized the others were sacrificing for her. The magnitude of that guilt did not override his need to save Beth. At least he could relieve Tashi of carrying her any farther, but the affable, lanky porter would not be dissuaded and insisted on following Dorje. Shouldering a pack with his own bag and pad, Dorje headed out with Tashi babbling about wanting to prove he was strong enough to work an Everest expedition and could Dorje help him get a job.

Pointing to the cornices, Dorje whispered, “Hush. No more talking till later.” They proceeded with eyes constantly searching the ridge. The sun dancing on ice crystals in an array of formidable beauty kept Dorje in awe as they walked silently through the ravine. Fifty yards after passing the Norwegians on their way back to Sangbu, Dorje heard the chopping of helicopter blades again. Suddenly rising up from the valley as if out of nowhere, it hovered a quarter of a mile away. The Norwegians became hysterical, shouting and waving their jackets once more. Dorje tried to still them but they were too caught up in the promise of rescue.

“Please see us?” Beth whispered and Dorje gripped her hand as the helicopter circled the area as if trying to locate a landing area. Then they gazed in horror as it turned north toward Lobuche and Everest.

“Wait,” Kirk yelled. “We’re here! We’re here in this fucking hole where you can’t see us.” Royd and Hamar hollered too hurling their jackets in the air.

Hearing the first ominous rumblings and seeing the snow pucker on the ridge, Dorje yelled, “Look out!”

Fifty yards from him, Royd cried, “Oh shit,” and began running towards camp with Kirk, Hamar, and Lhamu right behind him.

Tashi started after them but Dorje caught his arm and pulled him the opposite direction, unwilling to lose the ground they had gained.

A crack followed by a terrible pause, and then a horrendous boom as the cornice broke loose. Sweeping slowly off the top at first, it thundered down in a violent mass. Dorje tried dragging Tashi and Beth beyond its reach, but the first wave hit with an agonizing jolt slamming them into a boulder and tossing Beth out of the
doko
. He grabbed her arm but the snow savagely wrenched her from his grasp and consumed her. Like a pebble carried downstream, Dorje tumbled head over foot until he didn’t know which end was up. Suffocating in darkness, he fought by instinct for the surface, thrashing and whipping his body but the snow’s power was unrelenting. His lungs on fire, he let his breath out slowing, conserving it to the last second. Then it was gone and blackness filled his head. In a dizzying final thrust, he kicked his way through to daylight and gasped for air like a baby’s first breath. Having spent its fury, the avalanche now lay motionless. “Beth!” Dorje screamed. His side in horrific pain where he’d struck the boulder, he clawed his way onto the surface and quickly searched for a landmark where he’d last seen her. Guessing about ten yards back, he clambered over the surface, frantically uncovering every mound. Expedition porters caught in avalanches had survived if found in time. But how long? A few seconds, minutes?

“You can’t have her,” he shouted at the gods. “Not here, not like this!” Spotting a strand of golden hair, he used his arms as shovels, shooting snow into the air with the fury of a dog digging after a rodent. She was lying upside down, folded over. He pulled her shoulders free and lifted her head. Beth’s breath exploded in a loud gasp as she gulped the air convulsively, her entire body shaking, her face terror-stricken. The seated position she’d been riding in had created a small air pocket in her lap—enough to keep her alive the precious minutes between life and death.

The pain in his side reminded him. “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t think so, but I feel awfully sick.” Looking around, Beth asked, “Where’s Tashi?”

The porter had to be nearby but time was running out. Again Dorje scoured every mound and depression for a sign of life. Finding the blue corner of Beth’s sleeping bag, he dug wildly. More bag, the
doko
, black hair, and then Tashi’s face staring at him with vacant eyes. A deep shudder coursed through Dorje. Was it the will of Buddha that this tall, rangy Sherpa with an enormous heart should die so young?

Hearing Beth empty her stomach made it even more imperative that he get her to the Khunde hospital. He climbed to the crest of the avalanche and yelled, “Are you there?”

“Yes,” Royd shouted back. “It missed us. No one hurt? And you?”

“Tashi is dead and Beth is sick. I am going to take her down. Tell Sangbu to follow my trail. We will all meet tonight.”

Dorje returned to Tashi and placed him in a fetal position to prepare for rebirth. Then he prayed to the gods to guide him to the heaven of boundless light. But having died in an accident on the mountain without proper funeral rites, Tashi’s soul risked becoming a restless
shrindi
spirit doomed to wander endlessly without entrance to one of the six realms.

When Beth wasn’t looking, Dorje lifted his shirt to check his side, expecting to see a wound, but the skin was unbroken. He touched where it hurt and almost screamed but didn’t want to alarm her.

The snow’s weight had crushed the bamboo
doko
beyond use. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“I can do anything I have to. I learned to survive long ago.”

Admiring her courage, he added her pad and bag to his pack. Then they slowly worked their way off the avalanche and continued down the ravine, constantly alert for any sound or movement of melting snow. Beth could not survive another fall. The intense glare of the sun burning his eyes, he reached for his glasses and with a jolt realized they were missing, lost in the avalanche. At the end of the path, Dorje looked back for Sangbu and the Norwegians. Nowhere in sight. It must have been harder to get through than Royd anticipated, but Dorje couldn’t risk waiting with Beth still too hot. She needed fluids badly and he had neither water nor a container, so he insisted she eat snow even though it would take ten cups to produce a single liquid one. With perhaps three more hours of sunlight, he could get her lower yet.