Alphas in the Wild

by Ann Gimpel

Tina quested about for a neutral topic. “The mules?”

  “Gunter has them.”

  “Good, they’re carrying my medical supplies.”

  “And most of our food. Don’t worry.”

  Good advice. Too bad I can’t take it.

  They walked until dirt changed to snow that crunched under her boots. Tina checked her altimeter and frowned. She turned to face Craig. “We should wait here for the others. We’ll never make Nido de Condores at this point. It’s a thousand feet above us.

  “Condor’s Nest.” He grinned. “I’ve always liked that name. I was just about to say the same thing. Looks like we’ll be walking on snow for the duration. We should stay together. We’ll rope up once we hit the glacier.”

  “We’re at sixteen-five.” She shot him a worried look.

  He glanced at his multiple-function watch. “About what I’m reading. So?”

  “Last time I was here, I hit continuous snow just past fourteen thousand feet. And it was close to the same time of year.”

  He shucked his pack, turned it backside down, moved his ice axes off to one side, and sat on it. “I see what you’re getting at. Here.” He patted the ground next to him. “Take a load off. It may be a while.”

  She unbuckled her waist belt and sternum strap, catching the heavy pack by its haul loop as it slid off her shoulders. Once it was off, she rooted through an outside pocket for her down jacket, took off her shell, zipped into the down, and replaced the outer jacket over it. She pulled both hoods over her head and buried her hands in her sleeves.

  “Brrr.” She glanced at her watch and clicked a few buttons. “No wonder. Eleven degrees. Guess I’ll dig my heavier gloves out next time I stand up.”

  In the meantime, Craig had done much the same, bundling against the cold. He handed her a water bottle. “Has Gatorade in it.”

  “Thanks.” She tipped it back, crunching ice chunks. They flowed into her mouth along with the liquid. “Guess it’s time to put the water in my parka.” She handed his bottle back, tugged hers out of a side pocket of her pack, and dropped it into an inner jacket pocket.

  He held out some cheese and a couple slices of salami. “How many years since you were here?”

  “Seven.” She took the food, munching gratefully. “You?”

  He pursed his lips together. “Three. No, make that four. But you’re right we did hit snow much lower.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to remember if the glacier had any particular issues. If the snowpack’s shrunk, it should be easier to see the crevasses.”

  Yeah, on a normal mountain. This one’s anything but.

  She kept her thoughts to herself. Silence stretched between them. “We’ve been here for twenty minutes. How long do you think we should wait before we go back for your charges?”

  “They’ll show up.”

  “But if they don’t, shouldn’t we go look for them?”

  He held up a hand and pulled his two way radio from a parka pocket. “Gunter. Where are you?”

  A volley of German crackled from the speaker.

  She looked at Craig. “Can you understand him?”

  He shrugged. “Sort of.”

  “Well, what did he say?”

  “I think he said they’re in the last hanging valley we passed through.”

  Tina felt her eyes widen. “But that’s seven hundred feet below us.” She dropped her head into a hand and massaged her temples to get her anger under better control. This bunch of clients had no business on Illimani. None. They weren’t strong or fit enough.

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, really.” She tried to rein in her sarcasm, but it bled through anyway. “What?”

  “It was foolhardy of me to accept clients like these to climb anything.”

  She looked up, and the corners of her mouth twitched into a frown. “That about nails it. Why did you?”

  His face took on a guarded expression. “I already told you. Times are harder than they used to be.” He blew out a breath. It plumed white in the chill air. “I don’t have a trade like you. I can’t just drop into the neighborhood ER and pick up a thousand bucks an hour.”

  She snorted. “Try three or four hundred, depending on the shift.”

  “Still.”

  “Point taken.” She shifted her body so she could look at him. “Have you considered going back to school?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, but it held a bitter edge.

  “I don’t get it.” She snaked out a gloved hand to stroke his arm, but pulled it back before she actually touched him. “What’s so funny?”

  “Who’s going to support me while I go to college?” He met her gaze. “Don’t take this wrong, but my life isn’t anything like yours. I didn’t have a family homestead to move into. I have a mortgage. The business has debts. Mountaineering equipment isn’t cheap. Neither are the permits when I go to the Himalaya. I have to buy them before I know if I’ll have clients. Lost my shirt last season. I’d planned for fifteen on Everest and ended up guiding five. The Nepalese government doesn’t reimburse you for unused permits. They’re about fifteen grand a pop. I sold some of them, but I was still out for five.”

  “I can see where they wouldn’t pay you back. The permits reserve space on the mountain. It’s not like Nepal can resell them.”

  “Exactly. A lot of the guide services were in the same boat. I was lucky to sell those few I did. If I’d gotten stuck with all ten unused permits, I’d have had to declare bankruptcy.” A bitten-off quality in his tone made it clear he was sorry he’d been so open with her.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea things were so tough in the climbing world.” She took a measured breath. “I think we should set up camp here. It’ll be dark before the group gets to us, and they’ll probably be too tired to push on, anyway.”

  Most clients could make the fifty-four hundred foot elevation gain from Estancia Una to Nido de Condores in a long day. Not these.

  “I suppose you’re right, but the mules have most of the tents. I’m only carrying one.”

  “We can set it up plus the one in my pack. And we can start water heating. There’s an open creek about twenty yards down the valley.” She pointed. “It will save fuel if we don’t have to melt snow tonight.”

  Craig got to his feet. “Thanks for listening.” In the fading light, she saw his face flush from more than the cold. “Didn’t mean to unload on you.”

  “It’s okay.” She stood too. “How about over there?” She pointed. “It’s nice and flat, and there should be room for all the tents.”

  They worked in a companionable silence. Tina was amazed how easily they fell into their old pattern of teamwork, positioning the two tents, hauling water, and starting soup and tea. It felt good to be setting up camp with Craig. Too good. The trips she’d gone on with him since he’d invited her to the Karakoram two years before, had porters who took care of those things.

  Bells from the mules’ harnesses jangled an hour past full dark. They hadn’t gotten any radio calls from Gunter, but concern for the clients nagged at her just the same. She and Craig sat on foam pads in the snow, sharing mugs of soup.

  “Thank God.” She tapped the beam of her headlamp down so she wouldn’t blind Craig and looked at him.

  “Yeah. I was starting to get worried too. I’ll go greet them and show them where we are.”

  Tina watched him walk briskly toward the track and turn downhill. An uneasy feeling soured her stomach. She’d been relieved once she knew they wouldn’t spend tonight on the glacier. Whatever had suckered her into that bargain was waiting for her up there. She felt its malevolent presence and shivered.

  I need more of a plan before I face it again.

  Chapter Three

  Craig strode through shallow snow toward the trail. Rocks and gravel crunched under his boots. It was a clear night, and the sky was riddled with millions of stars. Long years of guiding taught him to mask his feelings, but he’d been ecstatic to hear the bells. G
unter would’ve called him on the radio if anything had gone truly wrong, but the young German’s assessment of situations wasn’t always accurate. For one thing, he tended to use himself as a measuring rod. If Gunter wasn’t tired, he assumed the clients weren’t, either. Craig had gotten more than one complaint about his assistant guide, but they hadn’t been serious and the price was right. Gunter was more interested in earning his chops as a guide than in money. Besides, judging from his clothing and equipment, he had plenty from somewhere.

  Craig blew out a breath. Money. It had turned into a perennial problem. There was never enough. He loved the high mountains of the world. Adored them. They were the only place he felt truly at home. He’d been so enamored with climbing as a teenager, he would’ve done anything to ensure he had as much time cragging and peak-bagging as possible.

  Decisions he’d made years before rose to mock him. Tina had suggested going back to school. Craig snorted and turned downhill to meet his clients. He wished he’d gone to graduate school. A bachelor’s degree in history wasn’t worth much. Couldn’t even use it to teach at a junior college. He’d been set to get his masters, but Alpine Attack, one of the pre-eminent guide services, offered him a job. Getting paid—even if it wasn’t enough to live on—to spend time in his favorite places had proven too seductive to refuse.

  The glow from seven headlamps lit up the night as his little group topped a ridge. Craig hastened his steps. He hoped the clients weren’t in as bad a shape as he feared. Calling a trip was never a popular decision, particularly since clients understood it didn’t mean a refund. All that was laid out in the client contract each had signed.

  “That you, Craig?” a raspy voice called out, followed by a chest-wrenching cough.

  Who the hell else would it be?

  “Yes, Joe. It’s me. Sounds like you’re still feeling a bit rough.”

  “Nah, nothing—” The next words were obliterated by coughing.

  Crap. Hope Tina has something for him that doesn’t involve going down.

  One of the problems with only having one assistant guide was if Gunter had to escort a client back to La Paz, Craig would have to manage the remaining ones on his own. With more competent climbers, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but with this bunch... Tina had been right to be shocked by their lack of skill. He was too, but he couldn’t let it show.

  Tina could help as a guide. He’d have to pay her more, but it would be chicken feed compared with what she got as their doctor.

  “Gunter.” He clapped the German on the back. “Nearly gave up on you.”

  The other man avoided his gaze, dark eyes hooded. “Why you not come down? Zwei, er two men sind krank.”

  “Yes, I can hear they’re sick. Why didn’t you call me on the radio?”

  Gunter shrugged. “Maybe get better?” A crooked grin lit his features. “Never go down.”

  Yeah, the mountaineer’s creed.

  “We’ll let Tina take a look and see what she thinks. If she says they need to descend, you’ll take them.”

  Gunter stepped back, shock mirrored in his face. “Ich habe nicht vor diesem Berg erklommen.”

  “I don’t care if you haven’t climbed Illimani before. You’re a guide. The clients are our first concern.”

  Gunter turned away, muttering under his breath in German. Meanwhile, the six clients had caught up. “Hey, I understood that. I speak German.” Ted sounded winded, but at least he wasn’t hacking.

  “Yes, well, so did I.” Craig tried to sound affable. “I’m certain he didn’t mean it. Shall we? We’re close to camp for the night.”

  “Thank God,” Ted muttered. “Longest six miles I’ve ever walked.”

  Craig fell into step beside him. “You haven’t come six miles. That was the distance to high camp. We’re still a thousand feet below it. You told me you’d climbed all the fourteeners in Colorado.”

  “Uh, well, that might’ve been a slight exaggeration.”

  Craig pressed his tongue against his teeth and fought back annoyance. Damned clients, anyway. What did they gain by lying about their climbing pedigrees? He winced, knowing the answer to his rhetorical question. They gained entrance to trips where they didn’t belong—where they put their teammates at risk. Never mind their guides, if they had to haul their sorry asses out of a dicey situation.

  Guiding was a word of mouth endeavor. Happy clients were clients who stood on top of something, took a bunch of photos, and got home in one piece. They were the best advertisement Craig could hope for. Many days, he felt more like a nanny than a mountaineer. Clients like these ruined his alpine experience with their bitching, moaning, and lies.

  I’ve got to stop feeling sorry for myself. I accepted Ted and Joe and the rest of them. They’re my responsibility until we get back to La Paz.

  “So how many did you climb?” Craig tried not to sound as if his teeth were gritted together.

  “Don’t recall exactly. How far is camp? I’m about done in.”

  Craig took hold of Ted’s arm. “Let the rest of them go on by. Camp’s close.”

  “What? Let go!” The other man tried to shake his hand off, but Craig held tight.

  When the last of the five mules had clomped past, he said, “I’m trying to give you some privacy.” Craig inhaled sharply, the thin cold air bracing. “I need the truth about how much actual mountain climbing you’ve done. From the look of things, this is the first mountain you’ve ever been on. Am I close?”

  Ted, all overweight five-foot-ten of him, jerked his arm away. His short, black hair was hidden by a wool cap. “Why is it important?”

  Craig rounded on him, any semblance of hanging on to his temper gone. “Because I’m responsible for your life up here. If you give me bogus information about what you can do in the mountains, it’s the same as lying to your doctor about your medical history. It puts your life at risk. Unfortunately, it puts mine on the line too. And everyone else on this trip. I’m giving you an opportunity to tell me the truth.”

  Ted turned his head away. “You’re pretty close to right. I’ve never really climbed anything.”

  Damn, damn, damn! Fuck!

  “Why’d you want to come on this expedition?” Craig forced the words out.

  “It said on the Internet these mountains were easy.”

  Craig’s jaw clenched. “They are—compared with the Himalaya or Alaska. Try again. Why’d you decide to begin climbing mountains on peaks that are over twenty thousand feet?”

  “Midlife crisis?” Ted laughed, but it came out more like a squawk.

  “Come on.” Craig started walking. “We’ll sort this out in the morning. I think Joe has the beginnings of pulmonary edema. If Tina agrees, he’ll be going back to La Paz with Gunter, and you’ll be going down with them.”

  “You can’t force me—”

  Craig balled his hands into fists inside his mitts. He wanted to land a punch right in the middle of Ted’s overfed face, but he swallowed his anger. “It says on page four of the contract you signed that I can. Now, are you coming?”

  Ted stomped along the trail beaten into the snow.

  Craig was grateful the other man didn’t try to talk. It would’ve been a struggle to be cordial.

  “Craig.” Tina met him a few feet from camp. “I need to talk with you.” He noticed the men had started setting up the other tents, including the larger mess tent. Good.

  “Thanks for getting them moving setting up camp. Or did Gunter do that?” He followed her behind a group of good-sized boulders which would shield their conversation.

  “Not a problem. Someone needed to. Gunter blew through here muttering in German. I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Shit! I told him he’d probably have to escort some clients down. He got mad. Bet he’s gone off halfcocked to climb the mountain by himself.” Craig grappled in his pocket for the radio, keyed it, and called Gunter’s name.

  Static crackled. The German didn’t answer. “Damn it!”

  Tina grunte
d. “Well, it’s what you or I would’ve done at his age. To be this close to the second highest peak in Bolivia and have it snapped out from under—”

  “Not the point. I’m paying him to do a job,” Craig growled. He rubbed his jaw to ease the tension in his facial muscles. “What did you need me for?”

  “Joe has pulmonary edema. He’s got to go down. Brice may have the beginnings of cerebral edema. His headache is worse, and he’s not tracking well.”

  “I figured as much when I heard Joe hacking. Bummer about Brice. Can we wait until morning, or do I need to radio for a chopper?”

  She cocked her head to one side. “I shot both of them up with Dex. Joe’s propped up in his bag with a warm drink. Robert’s in the tent with him. I described specific things to watch for. Brice is sitting up wrapped in a sleeping bag. He got an opiate along with the Dex. Give me an hour, and I’ll let you know.”

  Craig tried not to stare at her. Tina was one of the most striking women he’d ever met with her long, red hair, dark blue eyes, and lithe, six-foot frame. It had been the saddest day of his life when she refused his marriage proposal.

  She turned to go.

  “Wait.”

  “Yes?” She looked over one shoulder without actually turning around.

  What he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and feel the press of her body against him.

  Don’t be a fool. She doesn’t want me.

  “Just wondering if you’d help with guiding after I send Gunter down. Assuming the clients can wait until morning, that is.”

  Tina spun to face him, the movement so rapid it caught him by surprise. “Sure. Be glad to help, but I’m afraid you may be facing bigger problems. For one thing, I’m not all that certain Gunter will be back.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? Even if he’s sneaking in a summit bid, it’s only another five thousand feet or so. He’s young and strong. He’ll be back before we get up tomorrow.”

  She looked away. Watching her in the flickering light from his headlamp, Craig sensed she wanted to say something. He considered prodding her, but kept his mouth shut. Tina could be stubborn. He gave her lots of space.

  The line of her jaw tightened. She looked up. “There’s something wrong with this mountain.”