“Rock!” Moretti shouted from far above.
“Rock!” Hawke and Taylor repeated the warning, pulling themselves close to the rockface and shielding Megs with their bodies.
Stone struck stone as another rock crashed its way to the canyon below.
“Shit!” Hawke looked up. “This really is a vertical choss heap.”
“The whole damned wall is just waiting to come down.” Taylor adjusted his position on the ledge, stood a little closer to Megs.
“You’ve both got wives and kids back home.” Megs had known both men since they were little boys. She knew their wives—Lexi and Vicki—and their young children, too. “Please don’t get yourselves killed trying to rescue me.”
“Hey, that’s our job.” Hawke glanced at Taylor, then reached for his handset. “Copy that.”
Taylor explained. “They’ve got Ahearn and are sending the litter back down.”
It seemed to take an eternity for the litter to reach them. While Hawke and Taylor held it steady, Megs climbed in, instinctively reaching to unclip herself from the protection she’d set and attach herself to the litter instead.
Hawke stopped her. “You need to sit this one out and let us do the work.”
“You’re right.” She was too shaken to think clearly. Any mistake she might make would endanger Taylor, Hawke, and the other rescuers.
But doing nothing came at a price, leaving her mind free to fill with fears. What if Mitch was left badly disabled? What if he never regained consciousness? What if he died on the way to the hospital?
No. No, she couldn’t let herself go there.
Mitch was strong. He’d been wearing a helmet. He would recover.
The ascent to the canyon rim was slow and steady, Hawke and Taylor keeping the litter from swinging into the cliff wall. Megs let out a relieved breath when they topped out, hands reaching to pull the litter to safety and secure it.
While hanging out on the wall had been quiet, the rim of the canyon was swarming with people. Belcourt had constructed the anchor and was now breaking things down with the help of several rangers. O’Brien, Conrad, Moretti, and Life Flight paramedics carried Mitch’s litter toward the waiting helicopter.
Hawke and Taylor unclipped Megs from the litter and helped her out just as the head ranger, probably the Incident Commander, approached.
“Do you need medical attention, Ms. Hill?” He couldn’t have been much older than thirty, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes.
“No. I’m fine. Thank you for your quick action.”
“Your SAR team did most of the hard work. We’re all admirers of you and Mitch, ma’am, and we’re sorry that this happened here at the Black Canyon.”
“Thank you.” She fished her keys out of her backpack, handed them to Hawke. “Thanks, Eric. Thank everyone for me.”
She hurried after the litter.
A sheriff’s deputy stepped into her path. “Ma’am, I need to get a statement.”
“A rock broke loose from the wall above us, missed me, but struck Mitch Ahearn on his helmet. That’s the whole story.” She side-stepped the deputy, jogged toward the waiting helicopter.
“I need your contact information!” the deputy called after her.
“Ask one of the Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue Team members!” She ducked down, accepted Conrad’s help climbing into the chopper.
“Godspeed, Megs. We’re all thinking of you two.”
“Thanks, Conrad. I’m putting you in charge while I’m out. I know that’s a lot to ask when you and Kenzie have a three-month-old at home. Please don’t let the Team collapse while I’m away.” Megs took her seat, put on her earphones.
“It’s not a problem. I’ve got it. We’ll be fine.”
“Thank the boys for me. You’ve gone out of your way, and I know it.”
