Murphy's Law

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by Yolanda Wallace


  Peter retrieved the joint. “I’m glad you found a worthy substitute.” He leaned over and shotgunned smoke into Pasang’s mouth. The gesture was almost as intimate as a kiss. “Someone told me sex on the mountain is forbidden.”

  “No jiggy-jiggy,” Pasang said, using one of the many Sherpa euphemisms for sex. “Sauce-making okay at base camp, maybe. On mountain, bring very bad luck. Mountain is to be respected and revered. She gets angry when she’s dishonored.”

  “If she can hear the thoughts running through my head most nights,” Marie-Eve said, “we’re all in trouble.”

  Olivia jammed her hands into the pockets of her down parka. She felt like an overworked chaperone riding herd on a group of hormonal teenagers. She could use some adult conversation. Even if she was doing most of the talking.

  “Would you like a hit, Doc?” Marie-Eve asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  She didn’t need to get high. What she needed, she realized with a start, was five more minutes in Sam Murphy’s arms.

  She had pulled away because the urge to stay had been too great. She didn’t want to be seen as weak when everyone—herself included—needed her to be strong. Sam was her guide not her confidant. Their relationship, such as it was, needed to remain strictly professional. Olivia intended to keep it that way, even though her heart was beginning to long for more.

  Chapter Five

  Olivia’s extremities felt like ice. She checked the thermometer propped against her backpack. According to the digital display, the temperature inside the tent was twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit. The air temperature outside was probably warmer but, thanks to the biting wind, it certainly wouldn’t feel like it. Shivering, she pulled her sleeping bag up to her chin and moved closer to the warm body lying next to hers. The air was so cold she could see her breath. A thin layer of condensation had formed on the inside of the tent.

  “Did you forget to close the flap when you turned in last night?”

  Marie-Eve burrowed deeper into her own sleeping bag. Olivia could hear her teeth chattering. “No, did you?”

  “I can’t remember.” She had barely been able to keep her eyes open by the time she had crawled into her sleeping bag last night. In her exhausted state, she might have neglected to secure the tent. Except when she checked it now, the flap was closed. She rolled over and pulled the zipper. Frigid air rushed inside.

  “Brr. Damn, Doc. What did you do, forget to pay the heating bill?”

  “The check’s in the mail.”

  “That’s what they all say.” Marie-Eve disappeared inside her sleeping bag as if she were returning to the womb.

  Olivia poked her head outside. Sparkling white snow—at least two feet by the looks of it—covered the ground. More continued to fall as huge flakes the size of dimes drifted from the sky.

  “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You got your wish.”

  “Halle Berry’s outside wearing nothing but lipstick and a smile?”

  Olivia grabbed a handful of snow, squeezed it into a tight ball, and tossed it in Marie-Eve’s direction.

  Marie-Eve popped her head out of the sleeping bag. “I guess not.” She vigorously shook melting ice and snow out of her hair before joining Olivia at the tent flap. Her eyes were bloodshot. She squinted to protect them from the blinding glare. “Looks like Christmas morning. But I suppose we should probably celebrate Halloween and Thanksgiving first, right?” She stuck her hand in the snow and whistled when her arm disappeared past the elbow. “If it’s sticking this well down here, imagine how deep it must be farther up the mountain.”

  “It’s gorgeous now, but we’re going to be in for it once the temperature gets above freezing.”

  Living in a cold weather environment, Olivia was accustomed to seeing snow. What she could never get used to, though, was the mess the frozen precipitation caused once it began to melt. In Colorado, melting snow was an inconvenience. Out here, it could mean life or death. She hoped everyone had been paying attention during Sam’s lecture on avalanche survival techniques. They might be putting her suggestions to use. Soon.

  “Come on.” She pulled cold weather gear out of her backpack. Thermal underwear, fleece-lined pants, wool socks, thick gloves, a wool cap, and her trusty down parka, in addition to gaiters and snowshoes. “The quicker we get dressed, the quicker we can get moving.”

  Marie-Eve returned to bed. “What’s the matter? Got a hot date?”

  Olivia finished dressing and waited in vain for Marie-Eve to begin. She nudged Marie-Eve’s sleeping bag with the toe of her boot. “Up and at ’em. We need to get some food in our bellies before we hit the trail. You, Peter, and Pasang, especially. You have to get the marijuana out of your systems or today’s leg could be ugly.”

  “Don’t worry about us, Doc. We got the munchies so bad last night we ate six cans of beef stew between us. I probably have more preservatives in me than King Tut. You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

  Olivia pulled her cap over her ears and secured her helmet. “If you’re not ready in thirty minutes, we’re leaving without you.”

  Olivia climbed out of the tent and closed the flap. The camp seemed deserted, the only sounds the loud snoring coming from Marie-Eve’s and Peter’s tents. The Sherpas’ tent was empty, their bedrolls and belongings nowhere to be found. Food and coffee warmed over the campfire, which sputtered but continued to burn.

  Olivia saw Sam exit the supply tent. Her clothes were wrinkled and her short hair was wild. She looked as if she had tossed and turned all night, though Olivia couldn’t imagine why. Sam combed her hair with her fingers before covering her unruly locks with her helmet. She looked around, taking the lay of the land. Olivia had been astonished to wake up and discover the mountain had turned into a winter wonderland overnight, but Sam’s face betrayed no hint of surprise. As if she had seen it all before. Then again, she probably had.

  Olivia poured herself a cup of coffee from the metal pot hanging over the campfire. The thick brown liquid woke her and warmed her at the same time. “Would you like some?” she asked when Sam joined her by the fire.

  “Yes, please.” Olivia poured her a cup and returned the container to the hook attached to a metal crossbeam. Sam took the cup from her and inhaled half the contents. Then she peeked inside a cast iron pot, revealing bacon, poached eggs, and home fries. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  Olivia was too upset over Chance’s departure to eat, but she knew she had to force something down or risk running out of gas on the trail. “Please.”

  Sam grabbed two plates and loaded them with food. She and Olivia sat on opposite sides of the fire. They didn’t talk, but the silence felt comfortable instead of strained.

  “Where’s everyone?” Olivia eventually asked.

  “Jimmy and the guys are climbing ahead.”

  “Are they attaching fixed ropes?”

  Fixed ropes performed the same function as a hand railing attached to a flight of stairs. Providing support and reassurance, they were bolted to mountains to assist climbers and trekkers as they made their way over particularly difficult sections. Adventurers clipped one end of a climbing tool called an ascender to the rope and attached the other end to the harness around their waists, then hung on for dear life.

  “We won’t need fixed ropes until we climb from Camp Two to Three. Then the elevation becomes much more challenging. Jimmy, Pasang, and Lhakpa are scouting the trail to make sure the snow isn’t camouflaging any potential danger zones. If any new crevasses have formed since the last time we reconnoitered the area, chances are we wouldn’t see them until we fell through the opening.”

  Olivia shuddered at the thought of stepping onto what she thought was solid ground only to find nothing more substantial than snow and air beneath her and a long, potentially fatal fall.

  Sam scraped the last bite of food off her plate and cleaned the smooth stainless steel surface with fresh snow. Then she downed the rest of her coffee and dashed the paltry remainder on the ground. “Is
your crew prepped and ready to go?”

  “Almost.” Olivia poured two more cups of coffee, one each for Marie-Eve and Peter.

  “Get them ready. We need to start climbing as soon as we can in case there’s more weather on the way.”

  Sam grabbed a shovel and began dumping snow on the fire. While she waited to see if the flames had been extinguished, she held the last shovelful of snow aloft. Olivia marveled at her strength. How was she able to keep her arms from trembling under the heavy weight? The woman was practically a machine.

  She had developed her muscles in the gym, spending as much time as possible in the hospital fitness center between rounds. Sam had apparently earned hers the old-fashioned way. Through hard work.

  “Sam.” Jimmy’s voice came over the walkie-talkie, panicked and reedy.

  Sam stuck the blade of the shovel in the snow and reached for the walkie-talkie clipped to her waistband. “I read you, Jimmy,” she said in Nepali. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’ve found something.”

  “Something like what?”

  Sam cast a wary eye at Olivia as she waited for Jimmy’s reply. When it came, Olivia’s brain was too muddled to translate what he said. It was way too early and she hadn’t had nearly enough caffeine. Had he found a bhatti or a body? Neither made sense. Sixteen thousand feet was too high for a tea stall and too low for a corpse. Theoretically. On Annapurna I, anything was possible.

  The grim expression on Sam’s face let Olivia know the correct answer, unfortunately, was the latter.

  “Can you tell who it is?”

  “The Sri Lankan who tried to climb the mountain solo. The one who went up last April and never came down.”

  Sam looked stricken. “Sanath? Are you sure it’s him?”

  “The St. Christopher medal he wore is still around his neck.”

  “Can you tell what happened?”

  “It appears a large rock came off the mountain and crushed his skull. Half his head is caved in. We found his helmet farther up the mountain. It was undamaged so I don’t think he was wearing it at the time of his accident. He also fell a great distance. I’d say at least a thousand meters. His neck is broken and the bones in his arms and legs are like powder.”

  Olivia grimaced. She knew from treating patients that the pain from a broken bone was excruciating. Multiple fractures must have been unbearable. She hoped Sanath’s death had been swift and immediate.

  “That makes no sense. Wearing a helmet is Climbing 101. There’s no way he would have made such a rookie mistake. I taught him better than that.”

  “I can’t explain what happened, Sam. I can only tell you what we found. After Lhakpa and I bring the body down, should we send him home or bury him in a crevasse? You knew him better than I did. What do you think he would have wanted?”

  Marie-Eve crawled out of the tent. Olivia shook her head when she started to speak. Frowning, Marie-Eve looked from Olivia to Sam and back again. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Jimmy found the remains of a missing climber,” Olivia whispered back. She handed Marie-Eve the cups of rapidly cooling coffee she forgot she had been holding. “He and Sam are trying to decide what to do with the body. It’s tradition for someone lost on a mountain to be buried on the mountain, but he’s been missing for so long his family might want a chance to say good-bye without having to fly two thousand miles to do it.”

  Stunned into silence, Marie-Eve gulped as she looked off into the distance. “This is a beautiful resting place, but I don’t want it to be mine.”

  Neither did Olivia, but the possibility that it could happen had never seemed more real. Sanath had many more climbs under his belt than she did. If such an experienced climber could have a fatal accident, no one was safe.

  Sam pinched her eyes shut with her left hand. Tears leaked between her fingers. The machine was human after all.

  Sam abruptly turned her back as if she suddenly remembered she had an audience. An audience she didn’t want to perform for. “He’s a climber. He’d want to stay here. We can lay him to rest in one of the crevasses between Camps One and Two.”

  Olivia remembered the gashes in the earth Sam was referring to. One was so deep her legs had refused to obey her brain’s commands when she crawled over the metal ladders that had been strung across it.

  “Give us some time to wrap the body in plastic sheeting and prepare it to be moved,” Jimmy said. “Find some spare tarp we can use as a coffin. We’ll see you in about an hour.”

  Sam signed off and clipped the walkie-talkie to her waistband. She took a few moments to gather her composure before she turned around. “Jimmy, Lhakpa, and I have to descend to Camp One to—”

  “We heard,” Olivia said gently.

  Sam’s chin trembled. She looked away as her eyes filled with tears. Olivia sensed Sanath wasn’t the only person she was mourning. Sam had never lost a client, but perhaps she had lost someone even more precious. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and resumed speaking. “Pasang will lead you to Camp Three so you can begin acclimatizing. The rest of us will sleep at Camp One tonight and catch up to you tomorrow.”

  “Peter and Marie-Eve can go with Pasang, but I’m coming with you,” Olivia said. “Even though I didn’t know Sanath, I’d like to pay my respects. I can see how much he meant to you. Let me help you say good-bye.”

  Sam, her bright eyes dulled by pain, approved Olivia’s request with a nod.

  “Did you know him well?” Olivia asked.

  “The group of dedicated climbers is a small one. We’re members of an exclusive club, each member racing to be the first to achieve a goal. Of course we all know each other.” Despite her heretofore laconic demeanor, Sam seemed to welcome the opportunity to talk. “I met him five years ago when we were in the same group that climbed Kilimanjaro. I thought he seemed sincere, if a bit reckless, but his passion for climbing impressed me. He became a friend and something of a protégé. I greeted him at the airport when he landed in Kathmandu last spring. We shared a couple beers and shot the breeze for a few hours before we caught a chopper to the Conservation Area. Before we parted ways, I told him the next round was on me when he made it back. Only he never made it back.”

  Sam’s voice broke as she finished her story.

  Peter had wandered out of his tent sometime during Sam’s tale. “What did I miss?” he asked as Marie-Eve handed him a cup of cold coffee.

  “I’ll fill you in later.” She extended her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Didn’t anyone notice Sanath was missing?” Olivia asked after Peter and Marie-Eve returned to their tents to prepare for their ascent to Camp Three.

  “His base camp manager got nervous when she lost radio contact with him sometime during the second week of his climb. Searchers went up the mountain, but they couldn’t find any trace of him. Crevasses open and close depending on the movements of the glaciers near them. Sanath’s body must have come to rest in one that later closed then opened up again, allowing flood waters from the monsoons to dislodge his body and his belongings from their hiding place.”

  “Why do you think he wasn’t wearing his helmet?”

  “Like I said, he could be reckless and altitude makes you do strange things. That’s why no one should ever attempt a feat of this magnitude alone. You need someone to keep you in check when you aren’t able to do it yourself. Even if you think you know what’s best, there’s always someone who knows better.”

  Olivia heard what Sam had left unsaid. Sanath’s fate could befall her if she took similar risks. But she could see the determination in Sam’s eyes to prevent that from happening to her or anyone else. She realized the reason Sam put her life at risk every day. To prevent others from losing theirs.

  Though she was standing on the world’s most dangerous mountain, Olivia had never felt so safe.

  *

  The rope dug into Sam’s palms as she, Olivia, and Lhakpa slowly lowered Sanath�
��s body into the crevasse. Jimmy presided over the informal ceremony. He held up a piece of white cloth, making an offering on behalf of the dead. His sweet, melodic voice rose to the heavens as he recited the mataka-vastra-puja.

  “Impermanent alas are formations, subject to rise and fall. Having arisen, they cease; their subsiding is bliss.”

  Sam let go of her end of the rope after Sanath’s body settled onto the bottom of the crevasse. She poured water into an overflowing cup, a task she performed in Sanath’s family members’ absence. “As water raining on a hill flows down to the valley, even so does what is given here benefit the dead. As rivers full of water fill the ocean full, even so does what is given here benefit the dead.”

  Lhakpa kneeled at the edge of the deep fissure. He wriggled the ropes free, then took aim and dropped a burning torch onto the propane-drenched tarp that covered Sanath’s body. The resulting fireball was so powerful the percussion forced everyone to take a step back. Thick, acrid smoke poured out of the hole. Olivia said a quick prayer then rushed to get downwind. She covered her nose and mouth with her jacket to guard against the sickly-sweet smell.

  Sam clutched Sanath’s St. Christopher medal. A fan had presented it to him after his successful solo ascent of K2. Even though he was Buddhist, not Catholic, Sanath had worn the talisman every day since. It had accompanied him on successful climbs around the world. It had been with him at the end.

  The horrible thing was his death could have been prevented if he had only followed the precautions Sam had tried to drill into him. Had she been wasting her breath? Why hadn’t he listened?

  She ran her finger over the medal’s raised surface. “Safe journey, my friend. May your next life be as exciting as this one.” Except for memories and photographs, the talisman would be the only thing his friends and family would have to remember him by.

  Jimmy held his fur hat in his hands. Lhakpa did the same. Their short black hair fluttered in the breeze. “I’ll radio Rae so she can arrange for a monastic to visit his survivors and perform the mataka-bana at the appropriate time.”

 

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