My fingers tighten around the phone. But my voice stays calm. Measured. Soft enough not to scare her. “Emms. Tell me exactly where you are.”
She tries to sound breezy and fails. “I can’t see the path. Or… much of anything, really.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach.
“Send me your location through WhatsApp,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady. “Tap the paperclip, then ‘Location’. Don’t move until I tell you.”
“Alright,” she says, trying to sound calm. She doesn’t succeed. I hear wind rushing over the microphone. Too strong for where she should be.
My phone pings.
I open the map immediately. The moment the coordinates appear, Nick is suddenly right beside me, shoulder to shoulder, peering at the screen.
He inhales sharply. “She’s just short of Angel’s Wall.”
Cold slides through my chest. Angel’s Wall isn’tjusta wall. It’s a fifty-metre sheer drop into the valley. One wrong step and she’d vanish.
I grip the phone tighter. “Emma? You stay exactly where you are. Promise me.”
“I’m not moving,” she whispers, breath catching as the wind roars again down the line.
Nick steps to the window, squinting up at the sky. “Clouds are low. Really low. That’s going to close in fast.”
Tommy, who’d paused in the doorway when he heard my tone, joins us fully now. His expression shifts into full operational mode. “They forecast a storm rolling in from the west. Strong gusts, heavy rain, poor visibility.”
I feel my pulse hammer once, hard, like my body’s trying to punch me into motion.
“Emma,” I say, forcing my voice steady, “it’s alright. You’ve done the right thing calling. I’m with you. How much battery have you got on your phone?”
A rustle, a shaky inhale. “Twenty-three percent.”
“And what are you wearing?” Her answer causes another rush of panic to sweep through me.
“Okay. Stay on the line with me a moment. Just breathe.” I cover the mic with my thumb and turn to the others. “Cardigan. Jeans. Twenty-three percent battery.”
Nick swears quietly. Tommy’s expression tightens. We all know what that combination means if the weather breaks hard.
Nick looks at the GPS pin again, jaw clenching. “She can’t move on her own. We need to get—”
I don’t need him to finish. He’s right.
Before Tommy can speak, Nick grabs his pack off the hook. “We need gear. Now.”
Tommy lifts a hand, moving after us as we head for the gear room. “Protocol says only teams of six deploy. Unit Five is on the way. We do not run half-crewed rescues.”
Nick barks a humourless laugh. “By the time the team is here, kitted, and up the track, she could be hypothermic or worse. Storm’s moving fast.”
I’m already shrugging into my rescue jacket, phone still pressed to my ear, heart battering my ribs. Emma is trying to keep her breathing even on the other end, and every tremor in her voice tightens the knots in my stomach.
Tommy follows us into the gear corridor. “Alex. Nick. Don’t make me write you both up for this.”
Nick throws a glance over his shoulder, sharp and focused. “Call your full team. Do everything by the book. But Alex and I are going for a stroll.”
It hits me then. For the first time in all the years I’ve known him, Nick isn’t getting in my way. He’s standing with me. Not as a rival, not as a nuisance. As someone who understands exactly what’s at stake.
I lift the phone back to my ear. “Emma? I’m coming to you. Don’t move, don’t try to go up or down. Stay exactly where you are.”
A shaky breath crackles through the line. “Okay. I… Alex, I’m scared.”
