My heart turns over. “No. Why? Didn’t he come down from the campsite yet?”
Jerry shakes his head. “Not yet. And we’ve had no contact either. I’m sure it’s fine, but I came up to check it out and saw your car by the ridge. I thought he might’ve brought the group here for a pit stop.”
“He’s never been here.”
“Shame. It would’ve helped him out these past few months.”
There’s no accusation in Jerry’s words, but I feel the guilt all the same. This whole time Jax could’ve stayed right here, avoiding the forty-five minute drive to Burlington every damn day, and I never said a fucking word. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but wow, I really am a dick. “I never even thought of it. I haven’t been here since—”
“I know,” Jerry says. “It’s why I didn’t mention it either, but if it’s any consolation, I think Jax is pretty happy with how things have worked out.”
“But he’s not back yet.”
Jerry’s ghost-like grin fades. “No. I’m sure he’s fine, but we’ve been getting more rain than snow this year, and I’m worried about—”
“Rockfall,” I finish for him. Black Claw is known for unstable ground. Jax and Jerry have spent the past few months marking out safe routes up and down the trails, but Mother Nature is unpredictable. Anything can happen, anytime, anywhere. Ask me how I know.
Actually, don’t. I don’t need those images right now. I need to know Jax is safe.
It takes me a split second to make a decision, and thirty more to reclaim the key from beneath the maple tree and go back into the cabin.
The closet is in the hall. It’s stuffed full of every kind of outdoor gear a man could ever need, some Gabi’s, some mine. I find waterproof pants, a thick coat, and some gloves. I throw them on and stamp into snow boots that have seen better days.
Jerry nods as I hurry outside. “I’ve got the satellite phone. Sure you wanna do this? I’m probably worrying about nothing.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He accepts my answer, and we set off up the trail, taking the route Jax had preplanned, tracking him and the conservationists to Lynx Point. It’s a long hike, and the terrain is tough. After more than a year kicking it in the city, my legs feel it, but it’s a good pain. The best. My lungs breathe the clean Vermont air and relief wars with the building worry in my heart for Jax. We traverse a steep ridge. I sweep the landscape I once knew like the back of my hand. There are patches of loose ground everywhere, not enough on their own to cause a serious problem, but, put them together, and it’s enough to cause big trouble.
Jerry waits as I scale a rough notch to get a better look. “This is new,” I call down. “Some of this has slipped in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Damn.” Jerry grimaces. “I shoulda told him not to go.”
I don’t answer until we’re level again. Then I shake my head. “This is a risk all year round. What he needed was for the dumbfuck local to go with him and have his back.”
“Are we talking about me or you?”
There’s no time to give Jerry the withering glare he doesn’t deserve. We walk on, both of us ignoring the fact that it’s the first time we’ve been in each other’s company since he came to see me last fall, and I didn’t speak to him for the entire two hours he sat with me. I need to tell him I’m an asshole, and he was the best boss I could’ve asked for. That what happened to Vic was even less his fault than it was mine. But we keep moving instead. I steady him over harsh ground and meet his gaze with my whole self and hope that by the time I get around to saying that shit, he’ll already know.
The site where Jax made camp overnight is still a mile away and we’re running out of time to reach it before we lose light. So far we’ve found no trace of Jax’s group, and there’s every chance he changed the route of their descent when the unexpected rain hit last night. He’s likely already back at the Wildfoot truck and speeding home to Burlington. But thewhat-ifmonster in my brain is loud. If there’s loose ground on this route, there’ll be loose ground everywhere. What if it’s already slipped? What if it slippedlast nightand Jax is hurt? Trapped? What if—
Jerry squeezes my shoulder and points into the distance. “Let’s keep going to the ridge over there. We’ll be able to see as far up as we’re going to at this level. If we don’t see nothing, we gotta go back. Ain’t no use to anyone, least of all Jax, stumbling around in the dark. I already let Kai know we might need him tomorrow.”
It’s a sensible plan. I know it in my head, my gut, and my heart, but there’s zero part of me that can truly contemplate leaving Jax out here another night. I stride on, pushing for the ridge. Jerry’s a heartbeat behind me. The incline is steep and littered with boulders big enough to kill a man if they rolled over one, but I try not to think about that. I focus on the clearing sky, and the faint strains of winter sun fighting the rain clouds. It reminds me of Jax smiling at me when I’m so sure I want to be miserable. When he’s stumbling sleepily around my kitchen, cracking eggs into a pan and somehow missing the goddamn pan, and it’s the funniest thing in the world. It’s him laughing at everything and nothing, and me absorbing every sound he makes to wrap around my fucking soul. His light to my dark. Sunshine and storms make rainbows, right?
“Tanner.”
Jerry says my name as a low rumble breaks through the Jax-centric meanderings in my brain. His hand is on my back, and I follow his gaze to the ground above us. At first, I see nothing, then the rumble grows louder, and the ground beneath us shakes, reacting to the rocks and boulders barreling down the hillside.
It’s heavy and fast-moving, picking up speed and debris. With the tough terrain below us, we have zero chance of outrunning it. Whatever we do, it’s going to hit us, and it’s gonna hit hard.
My brain snaps into autopilot. I rip the pack from Jerry’s back, open it, and hurl it as far down the hill as I can. His belongings spill out, leaving a trail that will hopefully lead whoever comes looking for him close to wherever we land after this. The satellite phone is in his coat pocket. For it to be of any use to us, he needs to survive this hit too, but there’s no fucking time. I shove him sideways and hope for the best, then the rockfall hits, and the world spins out of control.
Earth and sky fight for dominance.
Tumbling.
Falling.
