Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  To her right, down the hill, Amanda’s and Rodney’s voices grew louder.

  Boom, boom. Shelby’s head throbbed in time with the heartbeat of the lost skier, the pounding thuds urging her to move faster. Faster. The light around them had settled into a flat, dim gray that had nothing to do with the waning daylight. She scrubbed a gloved hand over her eyes. All it did was make them tear up. Nothing came into focus. All shapes blended into dull nothingness.

  Her foot twisted on the uneven, snow-covered ground. Shooting pain chased away the throat-clutching terror that threatened to freeze her in her tracks. Hiking the Tetons while blind. Beyond stupid.

  But she had to find the man, had to meet up with her teammates. It was imperative. Rodney and Amanda needed to find the victim and quickly.

  Because if Shelby found the guy, she couldn’t help him. She couldn’t even see a few feet in front of her anymore.

  Her foot shot out from beneath her. Sliding a few feet down the slope, she landed hard on her other knee. She dug her gloved hands into snow and rock. How far was she from the edge? If she started to slide again, would she ever stop?

  Yeah, she would. A lot later. And that was the problem.

  “Damn it,” Eric spat, crunching through the snow.

  “I’m fine.” Even she didn’t believe the words.

  “That’s it. We’re done here.” He grabbed under her armpit, pulled her back up and spun her around. His face smeared into a gray blur. Thank God she couldn’t see the pissed-off Eric face, the one with the tight jaw and disappointed narrowing of his eyes.

  Concentrate on business. A victim was out there, alive. Barely. “A little farther. Come on, we can get to this guy.” Easing out of his grip, she continued toward the pull of her target’s mind.

  Whatever Eric muttered behind her was likely descriptive and uncomplimentary. The surge of nasty yellow ire that blasted past her confirmed his feelings on the matter.

  “Hey!” Rodney called out.

  “Got something, you guys,” Amanda shouted.

  Shelby concentrated on not falling off the mountain as she forced her rubbery, burning legs to move.

  Amanda’s anxious tone cut through the thick clouds around them. “He’s over here! Get out the supplies.”

  Approaching the voice, Shelby detected lights—headlamps—and shadows. Not much else.

  Those imaginary fingers on her neck squeezed again. Yeah, she was in big trouble. Blind hikers didn’t survive long above tree line. Or anywhere deep in the Tetons, for that matter.

  Her body jerked to a stop. “Stop, Shel. You almost stepped on him. What’s wrong with you?” Eric yelled.

  Sinking down to her knees, she scrubbed at her eyes and squinted. Two fuzzy lights and three dark shapes appeared with a smidge of color haloing each form.

  Oh, shit.

  Eric relayed position through the radio. Ben’s team would work their way up to a rendezvous point back below the ridge behind them. It would be up to Eric’s team to transport the guy to that point. Alive.

  Eric’s team minus one.

  “Can you get an IV in him, Shel?” he asked. “You’re our best stick. The guy needs fluids fast.”

  Grabbing Eric’s leg, she tugged him down until he knelt next to her. She pulled him close so her mouth was close to his ear.

  “You know that trick I did back there to get in this guy’s head?” she whispered.

  She felt, rather than saw, his nod.

  “You know how two weeks ago that mental trick wiped me out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, this time I can’t see anything.”

  “At all?”

  “Nothing.”

  Chapter 5

  Not for the first time today did Eric want to kill Shelby.

  Well, they had wondered what the use of her new power would do.

  Totally blind? On the top of the Tetons with the weather blowing in? Damn it, they already had one victim to deal with.

  “Hold still,” he whispered.

  He rifled in his bag and pulled out a penlight. Flashing it over her face, he spat, “Geezus.” Sweat cooled on his neck. “Your pupils aren’t constricting. Damn it.”

  “What’s going on there, guys?” Rodney asked. “We need some help.”

  “Shelby’s snow blind.”

  Amanda turned her head, illuminating Shelby for a moment. “How? It was overcast today.”

  Under his hand, Shelby’s shoulder tightened.

  “Don’t know. Just happened,” he managed. Not exactly the truth, but he knew that Shelby didn’t want anyone to know about her power. If necessary, Eric would take that information to his grave. Along with a boatload of other crap he would never share with any other human being.

  “Shit, man. What do we do about her?” Rodney called.

  “Hello? She’s right here, guys. She can hear you,” Shelby said.

  Even in the low light, Eric detected the brief quiver of her lower lip. Shelby scared? Not good. The woman was a rock when it came to dealing with stress. If she was worried, they were in a way worse scenario than he’d imagined.

  “Sorry, Shelby. But this is a bad situation.” Rodney pulled out a bag of fluid and an IV needle. “Roll up the guy’s sleeve, Amanda.”

  Shelby coughed into her gloved hand. “I’ll be fine. Stabilize this guy, and let’s get him down off the mountain.”

  The skier moaned, and Eric clicked on his headlamp. “What’s his status, you two?”

  “Broken leg, head injury, hypothermia,” Amanda said. “Heart and lungs are okay for now. We’ll get a collar on him, splint that leg, and we should be able to move him.” When the man moaned again, she crooned back at him, giving reassurances that he would be okay.

  In the next five minutes, the last light faded away. Then the damned wind picked up in earnest, clawing through Eric’s thick alpine gear. God damn it.

  They weren’t all going to be okay. Not by a long shot.

  At least for now, everyone was alive. Eric would do his damnedest to keep it that way.

  He leaned back to Shelby and pressed a bottle into her hands. “Drink. Stay hydrated for the hike back down.”

  How was he going to get a critically injured man and a blind woman off the mountain?

  In the shadows from the headlights, her eyes widened. That brief flicker of fear on her face iced his blood more surely than the dropping temperatures.

  “I’ll get you out of here,” he murmured. “I promise.”

  “Yep,” she said. No inflection. Blank. Staring at nothing.

  As much as he wanted to keep reassuring her, there was the victim to attend to, and he supervised the stabilization efforts. The man’s neck and leg were protected, and pulse ox showed he was getting enough oxygen. Good.

  Time to go.

  They unrolled the compact Ultralite rescue sled and attached two hiking poles for stability. Easing the man onto the sled on the angled terrain set Eric’s nerves on edge, especially when the sled shifted a foot downhill as they strapped the man into it. If anyone started sliding here, the scree field a thousand feet below them would break their fall . . . and their body.

  Attaching cordage and clicking the buckles to secure the victim, Amanda, Rodney, and Eric prepped the guy for transport in ten minutes.

  Shelby crouched in a ball, gripping the water bottle like a lifeline. Eric could make out her wheezes, audible even over the now-howling wind.

  “Ready?” he shouted to his teammates.

  Rodney gripped the front of the makeshift travois, and Amanda hung on to a stabilizing rope behind him, so the tail of the sled wouldn’t slide downhill. The two of them trudged back across the mountain.

  Eric called out, “Shelby?”

  “Yup, all ready. Let’s go.” The brightness of her tone didn’t fool him. The woman could have an arm ripped off and she’d tell anyone who asked that she was perfectly fine.

  He helped her to stand and gripped her shoulders. “Here’s how this is going to wor
k.” Even though he was right in front of her, he had to yell to be heard over the bursts of wind. “I’m going to carry your pack in front of me. And you will hang onto my backpack.”

  “But I can carry—”

  “No arguing. You know how dangerous this situation is. And now we need to keep up with Rodney and Amanda.”

  “Yes, but—”

  His ears rang. The last straw had been applied to his back. “Geezus, could you do what I say for once in your hardheaded life?”

  That came out way too harsh, judging by the kicked-puppy look on her face, but he didn’t care. He had pulled her brother, Kerr, out of hell during a battle in Afghanistan. Eric had saved his childhood friend, but Kerr lost his leg that day. Eric would do better today with Shelby’s life. Had to.

  He stowed her hiking poles, donned his own gear, and settled her backpack in front of him. What was an extra fifty pounds among friends, anyway? If it meant Shelby survived the night, he’d bear any weight necessary. Hell, he’d carry her, too, if need be.

  “Grab on to my pack. Got it?” he asked.

  Over the wind, he heard her hoarse voice. “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  • • •

  The slog down the mountain? Pure misery. Black and gray coated Shelby’s vision, punctuated by a few spots of the dim headlights. She had her own headlight on, but it made little difference as to how much she could see. Her only lifeline? The straps on Eric’s backpack and his steady, sure steps through the night. As the hours ticked by, her reality boiled down to the cold night, their slow and crunching footsteps, her nasty wheeze, and occasional communication crackling through Eric’s radio.

  She had accomplished her goal, proven that she was tough, despite not being healthy enough for the mission. Found the victim, like she always did.

  Mission accomplished, but at what price?

  An imaginary vise clamped around her heart. Would her vision return? What if it didn’t? Air got stuck in her throat.

  Blinking again, she could make out a few more shadows. Maybe it was only temporary blindness. But why was today’s side effect of using her ability worse than before?

  The first time this happened, her vision only blurred for a few minutes. Tonight, though, she was several hours into near-total loss of vision. What if each time she used the part of her power to get inside her target’s mind, she risked a new, horrible side effect?

  Psychic Russian roulette. How fabulous.

  If she tried to help her fellow man, blammo, she’d go blind. Or have a seizure. Or lose bladder control. Or drop dead. Who knew what exciting and interesting side effects she would experience the next time she tried to get inside of her target’s head?

  No way was she pulling that trick out of her bag again. Altruism only went so far. In the future, she would only search for the victim, not enter their mind.

  Her head throbbed from tracking the guy earlier, but like her siblings, she always got a headache with any use of her powers, whether it involved finding someone or reading emotions.

  Or in the case of Eric, having emotions flung at her so hard they hurt. It was obvious how he felt. She winced as another hot and curdled wave of fury and concern blew by her.

  Would it be too much to ask him to shut off his brain, at least for a few minutes? No. He didn’t know about her ability to detect feelings. He had no idea how much pain he was causing. His anger, punctuated by some shards of fear, buffeted her mind like relentless gusts of the northern wind, blowing and ripping at her until something gave way.

  She sure hoped the thing that gave way wasn’t her sanity.

  At least they were headed downhill. More oxygen. Easier on her raw lungs.

  Another grave miscalculation. Smoke inhalation and nearly burning to death did not go well with rushing to elevation and hauling packs through the snowy backcountry. Her pride could have impeded the efforts to save that skier. Could have compromised his chance of survival. Could have put other people in danger.

  Could have gotten her killed.

  The night wasn’t over yet.

  She sank into a deeper hole. The fact that she hadn’t broken an ankle yet was a miracle. They were off-trail, on a steep and rocky mountainside, in the snow. And she couldn’t see where she was stepping. Only a matter of time before she made a major blunder.

  “Doing okay back there?” Damn Eric’s kind words and steady tone. Like he wasn’t exhausted. Like he wasn’t waiting to rip her head off when they got back down the mountain.

  “Fine.”

  “Need to rest? Water?”

  “No, thanks. Are you doing okay with both packs? I can take mine back, you know.”

  “No.”

  She recoiled at the whip of his tone. “How’s the skier doing?” she asked.

  “In pain from his leg but stable and conscious.” The undertone of anger remained, and she shivered. Eric rarely got mad. If he truly simmered now, she might be looking at a fumarole venting, right before the entire volcano blew. Yikes.

  “Good.”

  “Lights up ahead. Ben and his crew waiting for us.”

  Relief weakened her knees. One step closer to getting out of here.

  But one step closer to Eric’s impending explosion.

  Chapter 6

  When she stumbled again, Eric muttered, “Damn it all, Shelby.”

  This time, she didn’t flounder because of her eyes. Over the past hour, her vision had actually improved to where she’d said she could see well enough to hike on her own. Eric had checked with the penlight, and sure enough, her pupils responded a bit. So she wasn’t feeding him a complete line of bull. Okay, maybe she stretched the truth to downplay the vision problems, but she wasn’t outright lying.

  No, as Eric judged by the way air sawed in and out, breathing was the issue. She was reaching the end of her endurance. When he mentioned using the portable oxygen, her response had all but set his head on fire.

  She’d have to collapse before he’d offer it again. What a stubborn idiot.

  Probably what she would call him for remaining so concerned about her safety and health. Damn it, he needed to be the guy who managed the situation and took care of things. He needed to control the situation as much as possible to get them both back alive.

  He needed her to be okay. And damned if he was going to examine why that need made his gut clench and his chest tighten.

  They had fallen far behind the rest of the group, but it didn’t matter. As long as their victim got to the snowmobiles and then on to the ambulance, he and Shelby could take their time. Ben had said he’d make sure the team left a machine for Eric to use.

  He checked his watch and groaned. Five a.m. This extraction had taken forever. Made sense. Well over six hours to hike in, starting at nine yesterday morning. Rule of thumb with alpine rescue was to double or triple the approach time to estimate an extraction time. With no helicopters able to fly in support for nearly the past twenty-four hours, that figure had been pretty accurate.

  It had taken even longer with Shelby’s vision problems and slow pace.

  He wiggled his cold fingers in his gloves. What he’d give for a cup of something hot along with a giant-sized breakfast. And sleep. He’d give his right arm for a soft bed and eight uninterrupted hours of shut-eye. In a pinch, he’d settle for an hour-long nap on any warm, dry, horizontal surface.

  But sleep wasn’t in his future. Rolling his shoulders, he gave a mental groan. He’d promised Garrison and Kerr he’d help work on the barn when he wasn’t out on a Search and Rescue call this week. Eric had vowed not to repeat his parents’ flaky behavior.

  So, no. He didn’t desert people. He didn’t go back on promises.

  Sleep wouldn’t be in Shelby’s future, either, once her brothers heard what happened to her when she used her power last night. He couldn’t give a crap about keeping her secrets. Her family needed to know what had happened, for their own sakes as well as hers. They apparently all had strange
extra abilities, each one different. If something misfired when they used their power, each sibling had a right to know about it.

  If she didn’t tell them, Eric would spill the proverbial beans, and damn the consequences.

  But he wasn’t stupid. He’d have his flak jacket cinched and his head ducked down if Shelby was anywhere close when the story came out. Damn, her temper was a sight to behold.

  A beautiful thing, her temper, as long as it was aimed away from him.

  A lit tower made the clouds glow up ahead. His shoulders sagged. Thank God. They’d reached the edge of the sprawling ski area. He continued to follow the tracks of his teammates. Hopefully, he and Shelby would find the promised snowmobile waiting near the top of the ski lift.

  After another fifteen minutes spent crunching in the ice-rimed snow, they reached the machine, key in the ignition. A man sitting on another snowmobile called out as they approached.

  “You Eric and Shelby?”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “Nathan, assistant manager at the resort. Didn’t know if you wanted company, but I couldn’t see making you find your way back to the operations facility on your own.”

  “Thanks, Nathan,” Shelby rasped behind Eric.

  The man clapped his gloved hands together. “Let’s stow those packs on my machine. You’ve carried them long enough.” With quick movements, he secured the supplies and hopped on his snowmobile.

  Shelby settled behind Eric. When she snaked her arms around his waist, a strange sensation flooded him. Shelby, depending on him. They had never been this physically close, not like this, except for when he picked her up after the fire.

  Tonight? It felt right. Too damn right.

  What would it be like to have her arms around him in other situations, preferably wearing less bulky alpine gear? To have her frame pressed flush against his? Pretty damn fabulous, if the coil of warmth rolling through him gave any indication.

  Too bad that what he wanted had no hope of ever happening. Between the risk of ruining his place in the one family where he almost fit in and the risk of alienating Shelby, one of his closest friends—not worth it. Besides, what kind of relationship would they have? Stubborn Shelby meets control-freak Eric. Not a match made in heaven.