If he succeeded—and he was so close—he’d become the first man in history to climb all three 8000-meter peaks alone and the first to do it in only five days. But if anything went wrong…
Nothing could go wrong.
Megs sat at the Ops desk, listening in to one of the adventure climbing sites, just as they’d done the day when Bruce and the Stenger twins had been killed. Every once in a while, a climbing party coming back to Base Camp would say they’d passed him on their way down or spotted him through binoculars somewhere in the distance. But for a while now, there’d been nothing but silence.
Kenzie willed herself to eat a slice of pizza and some fruit, doing her best to laugh and smile with the others, time seeming to creep by.
There came a burst of static.
A woman’s voice came over the Internet. “We’ve got a storm front moving in.”
Kenzie’s pulse took off, the Ops Room growing quiet as they listened to the rest of the weather report.
Joanie reached over, squeezed Kenzie’s hand. “He’ll be off the summit by then, love. Bruce always told me Conrad was the brains of the operation.”
Kenzie hoped what Joanie said was true. Harrison had promised to come home and make a baby with her. She would hold him to that promise.
* * *
Conrad putone foot in front of the other, his fingers aching from cold, his body near its limits. He’d spent more time in the Death Zone on this expedition than ever before, and even with supplemental oxygen, he could feel its effect on mind and body.
One step. Breathe. Another step. Breathe.
He couldn’t sit. He couldn’t rest. If he did, he’d become just another frozen corpse littering the mountainside.
The summit wasn’t far now. He would have been there a few hours ago if he hadn’t stopped to render medical aid to a German climber who had developed high-altitude pulmonary edema. He’d given the man an injection of Nifedipine out of his own pack and helped his party get him down to a lower elevation.
Now, the summit was within sight.
Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.
The sensation in his body went beyond fatigue, beyond cold, beyond pain. Every moment brought pure, distilled agony, his mind screaming at him to stop.
Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.
Kenzie.
He’d promised her he’d come home. He’d promised her a baby. What the hell was he doing here? He ought to be home with her. He could turn around right now and head back to camp, make a meal, and sleep.
But Bruce had wanted this.
Harrison couldn’t give up now. He was close, so close.
Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.
Pain became an aching numbness as he shut out any thought of giving up.
Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.
He willed himself onward, willed his mind to focus, exhaustion and extreme altitude a threat to mental clarity. Climbing without fixed ropes or a belay meant that one slip could mean death.
Step. Breathe. Step. Breathe.
Another step and another and another, and, at last, he was there.
It took a moment for that fact to penetrate his pain and exhaustion. When it did, adrenaline surged through him, boosting his energy. He turned, glanced back at the summit of Everest, where he’d been just yesterday, then looked down at the Khumbu Valley below. He was there. He’d made it.
A torrent of emotion washed through him, making his throat go tight. He ripped off the oxygen mask, took the sat phone out of his pocket, and called Kenzie, not wanting her to worry. “I made it. I’m here on the summit of Lhotse, and I’m fine.”
