He took off running, Harley behind him. They crashed through snow-covered undergrowth, whipping past branches. The storm was picking up, heavy flakes now falling sideways in the wind.
An opening appeared ahead, a break in the trees. Two figures huddled at the edge—Winter in her heavy flight jacket andTopher wearing what looked like three layers of flannel under a Gore-Tex shell.
“Thank God.” Winter’s relief was visible even through the thickening snow as they ran up. “Harley?”
“Hey, Win. Are you okay?”
“We need help,” Topher said. “Sunni’s hurt. She fell, and I think her ankle’s broken.”
Jericho had already reached the ravine edge, backing up as he noted the crumbling lip. Thirty feet below, Sunni Bowman lay propped against the rock face, looking up at them, her face drawn and pale. Blood had frozen in her blond hair, and her left leg stretched out, as if she’d hurt it.
Orlando whined, pressing against Harley’s leg. Above them, the storm clouds had turned the early afternoon darker, the sun fading.
“We don’t have much time,” Harley said. The words frosted in the air between them.
They carried what went unsaid.
The blizzard wouldn’t wait.
8
This is howpeople died in Alaska. Not in some dramatic plunge off a cliff or from a bear attack, but in the simple, brutal mathematics of time versus temperature. The body could only fight the cold for so long before it started shutting down, system by system.
Harley pressed closer to Orlando, not far from the cliff, watching from her perch under a tree. Her job was to hold on to the antsy dog. Frankly, she just wanted his solid warmth against her aching ribs. The wind had teeth now, found every gap in her coat, hat, scarf, and thermal pants. She fought a shiver.
She had questions about the man Sunni had been chasing. According to her, she’d gotten off the plane and seen someone on the ridge.
So that was comforting.
But it begged the question, What was Sunni doing out here in the first place?
They’d worry about that later. After everyone lived.
C’mon,JB. He and Sunni hung over the edge of the cliff, tethered by an ascender to a rope secured at the top and manned by Winter and Topher.
“I got you, keep coming!” Topher’s voice barely carried over the storm. He stood, braced at the anchor line, his usually casual demeanor replaced by a ferocious focus. The climbing rope ran through his belay device and held Jericho as the man climbed up the cliff.
Harley had glimpsed over the edge earlier. Twenty feet down, Jericho had been working his way up the snowy rock face, Sunni secured to his back in a rescue harness. Even from there, Harley had seen the strain in Jericho’s shoulders, the careful way he tested each hold before committing his weight.
“You got this, Jer.” Winter crouched at the cliff, leaning over, ready to grab him when he got close enough.
Snow drove sideways now, cutting visibility to barely an arm’s length. The spruce trees creaked and swayed, dropping loads of white with dullwhoomphs. Orlando pressed closer, his coat already frosted over.
“Almost there.” Topher took in more rope. “Sunni, you doing okay?”
“Been better.” Pain tightened her voice. “Pretty sure my ankle isn’t supposed to bend this way.”
“Just hold on.” Jericho’s words came out clipped, concentrated. “Winter, can you reach us?”
“Not quite yet.”
And Harley simply couldn’t sit by and donothing. Even if Jericho had asked her to keep track of his dog. She headed over to Winter and put her hands on the safety line. “I got it.”
Harley’s hands ached with cold as she held the line so Winter could lay down and grab Sunni. Jericho’s head appeared over the edge, snow coating his dark hair. Sunni’s arm wrapped his neck in a death grip.
No wonder he looked winded, his cheeks reddened from the cold.
And she saw it, right then. The rescuer in him. Strength. Courage.Determination. It reached in like a fist and grabbed hold of her, sent heat through her.Aw ... danger,danger!
