“That’s the climb that set the Valley on fire.”
As a result of the news coverage, new faces had begun to arrive in Camp 4. Inspired by Mitch and Megs’ success on Free Spirit and Half Dome, the dirtbags had started finding their own routes and putting up first ascents all over the Valley. The free-climbing revolution was on.
“We ended up in newspapers and on television. We both thought that was the end of it, but we were wrong. It was the beginning of…”
Megs’ words trailed off as Kim walked in, a bag of IV antibiotics in hand. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I read the news article about Mitch. You two are famous. What an incredible life you’ve had together. I can’t imagine traveling to all of the places you’ve been or doing the things you’ve done.”
Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m afraid of heights.”
“You save lives for a living. That does more good for the world than climbing.”
Kim shook her head, checked the subclavian line. “The world needs people like you to inspire us. The rest of us sit at desks or slog our way through the workweek. You give us reasons to dream. You take us places we would otherwise never go.”
“Thanks.” Megs had never thought about it like that. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“What was your toughest climb?”
That was easy.
“Without a doubt, it was K2. That’s the world’s second-highest Himalayan peak after Everest. That trip nearly broke me. It was so cold, and the climbing was brutal. I wasn’t sure we’d make it.”
Almost 30 percent of climbers who attempted K2 died.
“Why did you do it?”
“Good question. We’ve been sponsored by various climbing gear companies since our twenties. Part of the deal is coming up with exciting projects. Mitch and I tried not to let our egos drive us, but we justhadto tick the boxes and climb all of the eight-thousand-meter peaks.”
“Which was your favorite?”
“Everyone expects me to say Everest, but Everest is overrated—too many people, corpses, oxygen bottles, and trash.” Megs thought about it. “Honestly, I think it was our first ascent of the Regular Northwest Face on Half Dome that I was just reading to Mitch. It’s not that difficult, really, compared to other projects. But there’s nothing like being the first to do something when others believe it can’t be done.”
That’s when Megs noticed. Mitch was looking right at her. “Mitch?”
There was a grimace on his face, as if he were in pain. He bent one leg, squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again.
Megs’ pulse raced. “Tell me you saw that. He bent his leg, and he was looking right at me. Then he opened and closed his eyes. I think he’s in pain.”
“Yes, I saw it.” Kim hurried out of the room. “I’ll page his doc. He might need pain relief now.”
Mitch grimaced again, moaned, stretched out his leg.
Megs held tightly to his hand. “I’m so sorry, love. I bet you’ve got the world’s worst headache. She’s going to get the doctor. I’m right here, okay? They’ll give you something for pain.”
Could he understand what she was telling him, or was he trapped inside himself, confused and aware only of pain?
It took the neurosurgeon on duty a brief eternity to answer the page. When he arrived, he went over Mitch’s chart and then examined him.
“Though there’s some disagreement, there’s good evidence that people in a minimally conscious state can feel pain. I’ve ordered morphine for him, though we want to be careful not to overmedicate him. That can have adverse effects that set him back.”
“We don’t want that.” Megs also didn’t want Mitch to suffer.
“We’ll do what we can to keep him comfortable.”
“Thank you.” When the doctor had gone, Megs stroked Mitch’s arm. “They’re bringing you pain meds. You get the hard stuff.”
Kim walked in with a syringe and injected the morphine into his line. “This should bring immediate relief. We’ll monitor him closely.”
Within seconds, Mitch’s face relaxed, his eyes drifting shut.
