But as soon as Stone’s phone goes off, a pit of dread opens in my stomach.
“Hello?” he answers, his voice rough from sleep. Because the house is completely silent, I can hear every word despite the call not being on speakerphone.
“Stone, Oscar Evans with Search and Rescue here. We’re gonna need your help.”
Shit.
“Are you telling me some asshole went out in the backcountry in this shit?” Stone says angrily.
It’s a tangled web of emotions. Accidents happen, and as a first responder of any kind, your internal nature is to help people in trouble, but it’s easy to become jaded when people’s poor decisions put others’ lives at risk unnecessarily. For example, when evacuation orders are issued, and people don’t do it, then they cry for help when floodwaters begin to rise and claim the lives of those who have to go back for the ones strandedbecause they ignored the warning. That happened to a friend of Stone’s a couple years back, and it put a hard limit on his tolerance for stupidity.
“Apparently, a group of three went out two days ago and were supposed to be back before it got really bad, but they never showed. Probably got turned around in the storm,” Oscar says.
“Why thefuckwould you go out knowing this storm was coming?” Stone yells into the phone as he pulls his thermals on.
I throw the covers back and climb out of bed, prepared to do the same.
He throws me a stern look and shakes his head.
What the hell does he mean, no?
Ignoring him, I keep getting dressed as Oscar continues rattling off details.
“Your new admin won’t let you take the chopper.”Thank God.“So, you’re going to have to snowmobile in. Thankfully, the campsite was just over the western boundary of Ricochet.”
No. No. No.That snowpack isterribly unstable right now. The western boundary hasn’t been open for two weeks.
“You can’t go over that. You have to go around,” I tell Stone.
“I’ll call my team and touch base once we’re all on-site. Send me the coordinates, pictures of the skiers, and anything else you know.”
“10-4,” he replies, and then the call ends.
Stone immediately dials Deacon.
“We’ve gotta roll. Backcountry skiers are missing over the western edge of Ricochet. No chopper, so we have to go in on snowmobile. I’ll meet you at basecamp in twenty. Can you call Logan and ask him to prep team two? I’ll call Jeremy and the others,” Stone says into the phone, pulling his snow pants on next.
“Will do, Boss.”
“See you soon.” Stone hangs up the phone and pins me with a murderous glare. “Don’t even think about it, Hanlon. No fucking way am I letting you go out in this shit.”
“If you’re going, I’m going. Deal with it,” I snap.
“It’s myjob, Han. I don’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, well, you’re mylife,Stone. My whole fucking future. So, I don’t really have a choice either. I’m not sending you out there alone.”
Stone grips my shoulders.
“Fine. Come set up at basecamp, but you’re not coming out on this mission, Han. I can’t have my concentration divided, and I’ll be so worried about you that I won’t be able to think straight. I need to know you’re safe and warm and waiting for me to get back. Can you please do that for me? I’ll make sure you’re listening in on the comms channel so you know I’m okay,okay?”
I don’t like it.
But I understand it. He’s right. They could be out there for hours, and as much as I hate it, I’d be a liability in these conditions.
“Fine,” I reluctantly agree.
Stone moves into the bathroom to brush his teeth when there’s a knock on our door.
