I don’t care how hard they beg, I am never, ever taking my children to any spooky wax museum, she promised herself. If I ever have any children… If I ever get married… If I ever get out of here… Don’t panic. Stay calm. Conserve your oxygen.
Eric, you didn’t get covered, too, did you? You and Pam should’ve been free and clear. Where are you?
ERIC DESCENDED THE ICY cover of what remained on the surface. The unstable snow was far below, but the hard ice that remained was just as dangerous. His skis cut hard into the pack, his poles not always penetrating the crust as he made his way downhill. He had a strong signal from the beeper, and the large boulders had apparently remained in place. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t even have recognized Lindsey’s last location. The landscape had totally changed, except for the massive glacial granite. He angled toward the rocks, praying Lindsey hadn’t been smashed against them, praying she wasn’t too deep, praying he could find her in time.
A beeper was no substitute for the pinpoint accuracy of a trained rescue dog. And one tired head ranger in just the barest glow of sunrise wasn’t a strong search party. He resisted the urge to scream out in sheer frustration, resisted the urge to scream out her name. He didn’t resist gravity, however, and skied as fast as he dared to Lindsey’s last location, listening to the homing locator beeper sounding at his jacket.
He reached the boulders and kicked off his skis. Then he pulled the basket off one of his poles so he could use the rest as a snow probe. Homing beacons were more two-dimensional than three-dimensional. They could only locate a specific area above the snow. They couldn’t tell him how far down to dig. He checked his receiver and started stabbing the snow with his pole.
Lindsey hadn’t taken the full brunt of the snow, he thought. She made it to the side of the bowl. She shouldn’t be too deep.
The minutes ticked by as he advanced, probed and withdrew, advanced, probed and withdrew, over and over again. Once his pole hit something firm, but his frantic digging only unearthed a broken tree limb. He rose again, keeping to a grid pattern as best he could.
How many minutes has it been? he wondered. I wish I had my watch. He’d hated leaving it with Pam, hated leaving the terrified child, too, but had no choice.
The quicker I find her, the quicker I get back to Pam.
He stabbed again, withdrew, stabbed, withdrew, as he mentally ticked off the minutes.
I should never have let her lead. If anything’s happened to her…
He couldn’t finish the thought. Didn’t dare dwell on it or he’d go insane. Right now he had a job to do. Bent low he probed, withdrew, probed and withdrew. The beacon receiver pinged rapidly at its highest frequency, indicating close proximity to Lindsey, yet despite his search, his pole continued to sink until he arrived at the boulders, the end of his grid. Could she have sunk deeper than his pole could reach? Frantically Eric dropped to his hands and knees and retraced his grid, shoving the pole down to the snow until his hand rested on top of the snowy surface.
You’ve gotta be around here somewhere. The damn receiver hasn’t slowed or shut up. Lindsey, where are you?
He felt the pole hit something, but something that yielded. He tried again, and felt the same thing. Immediately he clawed at the snow, digging like some wild beast in a frenzy. The snow came away in clumps and sprays until, more than a yard deep, he uncovered the top of Lindsey’s ski boot.
A strangled cry burst from his throat and stilled his hands for just a second. He changed position and began digging even faster where Lindsey’s head should be, willing her foot to move or her ankle to bend, anything that would give him a sign that she was still conscious…still alive!
Snow fell into the hole he was digging. Eric swore, taking time to clear more snow between the head area and exposed boot, hating the extra seconds that ticked away, yet knowing that he could work only so fast. Thoughts of Eva filled his memory at that motionless boot, driving him to dig with more fury than before. A few more minutes…an eternity later…he had her face uncovered.
“Lindsey?” he said as he cleared more snow from her chest. He couldn’t administer CPR with it there. “Speak to me, sweetheart. It’s Eric.”
Nothing. He peered closer, hoping he’d see her eyes flutter, her lips move, her chest rise and fall with respiration.
“Please, Lindsey, open your eyes,” he begged, taking off his gloves and brushing the snow from her eye sockets and nostrils. He lowered one bare finger to rest beneath her nose, and felt the faint pulsation of warm, exhaled air. That was all the inspiration he needed to finish clearing off the rest of her body. As he started examining her arms and legs for breaks, she opened her eyes.
“Lindsey?” He spoke her name like one demented, barely able to form the syllables.
“No, it’s Frosty the Snowman, you idiot,” she said faintly before she coughed and gasped in fresh air. Then, in a slightly stronger voice, she added, “What took you so long?”
First-aid techniques and the head ranger’s calm, collected demeanor flew out the proverbial window. Eric grabbed Lindsey and pulled her into his lap, his arms crushing her to his chest. “Thank God,” he whispered, overjoyed that she had the strength to raise her arms and place them around his neck. “Thank God.”
They clung to each other. Eric drew strength from her, and felt his professional manner return as he slowly went through the required questions. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
“Um…” She considered that, still slightly dazed.
“Can you move your arms and legs? Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head anywhere?” he asked.
“My head aches,” she answered.
He noticed that her hat was gone. His gentle fingers found a large knot on her head, but no bleeding. Her pupils were both reactive and equal. “That’s gotta hurt,” he said, “but I guess we can skip the ice pack.”
She watched him take off his hat and put it on her head. He removed the scarf from his neck and wrapped it around her bare hand. “That’ll keep your hand warm. I can’t find your glove. Ready to sit up?”
“Sure.” He noticed that her hands were shaking. She looked light-headed, and obviously felt it. Eric laid her back in his arms again as her eyes closed.
“Breathe,” he murmured. “It wouldn’t do to have you fainting now, Lindsey.”
“Pam okay?” she managed to gasp out. “You, too?”
“She’s okay, but I left her up above us. We can’t stay here for long, Lindsey. We’ve got to get moving.”
Her eyes opened. He saw that the first trace of sunrise shone in the east. That sunrise showed a totally different contour in the bowl, a massive shift in snow now exposed to the light of dawn. Eric shook as he realized just how close she’d come to death. He gave silent thanks for her deliverance, and then in a sudden release of pent-up tension, bent over and kissed her lips with rough joy and deep gratitude.
“Thanks for coming after me,” she breathed.
“Thanks for taking point,” Eric said, silently vowing to take the lead from now on. He gave her one last kiss, then said, “I’m going up to get Pam. Will you be all right?” he asked.
“I—my skis are gone!” she said. “And my poles. What are we going to do?” She raised her scarf-wrapped hand to feel his hat. “This is your hat,” she said inanely. “I can’t take your hat.”
“You packed me a spare, remember? Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll get us all down.”
“How?”
“Calm down, love. I’ll tow you with Pam. It’s downhill all the way. We’re almost there, Lindsey. Almost to the checkpoint. Okay?”
She nodded as he lifted her out of his lap and made her as comfortable as possible. He put the skis and poles back on. “Soon as we get to town, I’ll get us some coffee. Stay calm, stay put and I’ll be back in ten minutes,” he assured her.
She glanced at her watch. “My watch is broken,” she said, surprised. “Look, Eric.” She held up her gloved wrist. “It’s broken.” Eric ignored the wat
ch. He kissed her wrist above the raw skin where the snow had ripped away the strap of her ski pole.
“I’ll buy you a new one.
“Then how will I know when it’s ten minutes?” Her voice sounded like that of a fearful child, more like Pam’s than Lindsey’s.
“You’ll know when I zip right back to your side. Lindsey, love, I have to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.” He touched her cheek with a gloved hand, then started the tedious uphill track on skis.
LINDSEY TRIED TO sit quietly during his journey, but couldn’t. The panic she’d managed to suppress earlier had left her shaking with reaction, and with cold. Her wrist and head started to throb, her cheeks and forehead were freezing, and her scarf-wrapped hand, which she now held beneath the bottom of jacket, ached with pins and needles as the numbness of her fingers began to fade. Suddenly she was crying, silent sobs that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. Reaction mingled with adrenaline letdown and the chilling cold, causing her to shiver so violently her head throbbed even more.
The only good thing about all of this was that she’d been the one leading. She hadn’t had to see Eric and Pam get buried alive. She cried and shook until she tired of both, and managed to calm down when Eric returned, although she still shivered slightly from the cold. Eric pulled off her ski boots and bundled her into the sleeping bag with Pam, put on the replacement hat and strapped both of them securely onto the sled.
“We’re almost there, ladies,” Eric said as he placed the blanket over their faces. “Half a hill more, a half hour or so, and we’ll all be home.”
But where’s home for me? Lindsey wondered. Back with my family or here with Eric in this deathtrap? She continued to wonder until she heard the sound of a helicopter. She pushed away the blankets, raising her face to the light of the sun. And she watched the chopper land as tears of relief and happiness streamed down Pam’s cheeks.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rangers’ winter cabin
Day 6, midmorning
NAOMI AND GINGER RETURNED from a quick trip outside, the dog vigorously shaking her coat, Naomi stamping her boots before rejoining Keith, who sat in front of the cabin fire.
“It’s down,” she said bluntly to Keith’s silent query. “The whole damn radio antenna is down.”
“Hell. Was the wiring intact, or could you tell?”
“I dug some of it out of the snow. It’s in pieces, Keith. It’ll need more than a simple splice. The cable must’ve been shredded when the wind blew the tower over.”
“The tower went, too?”
“Oh, yeah.” Naomi tossed her hat and gloves onto the table. “Even though the mounting bracket screws are still on the base.”
“The storm pulled the whole thing out of the ground?” Keith asked incredulously. The radio tower had been bolted and cemented into solid drilled granite.
“Yeah. Tower and antenna went down together and traveled a good distance.”
“We’re damn lucky it didn’t come through the ceiling,” Keith said.
“Lucky. That’s us. Guess we’ll have to get the portable antenna up on the roof.”
“You’re not going up there. You’d be a sitting duck for Wilson!”
“Like I’m letting you break open that wound again,” Naomi said. “Someone’s got to do it.”
“You couldn’t manage the portable antenna by yourself, anyway. Last time the tower was down for repairs, it took both me and Eric to get it on the roof, and that was in the summer, no less.”
“Still…we could try.” Naomi bit her lip. “We need that radio, Keith. We could wait until dark, I could climb onto the roof, and if you could manage to hand me the portable antenna, I think we’d be in business.”
“Or out of business, if Wilson has an infrared scope on his rifle. I’m the senior ranger, and I say it’s not worth the risk.”
“You’re on the sick list, so I’m in charge,” Naomi countered.
“Either way, I’m not handing you the antenna,” Keith said. “Without my help, you have no choice but to stay off the roof and safely inside.”
“My brother’s out there! I need to know if he’s all right.”
Keith’s expression hardened. “There’s more to this job than your personal wants, Naomi. If Eric was here, he’d be the first to agree. If all went well, Eric, Lindsey and Pam are on the other side of the pass by now. No portable antenna could reach them.”
“What if everything didn’t go well? What if they’re hurt? Still on this side of the pass?”
“Either way, there’s nothing we can do for them. Getting yourself killed trying to prove me wrong won’t help. It’s not worth the gamble.”
“I think it is!”
“You’ve got to have confidence in your brother, Naomi. And in Lindsey. And in me. If you can’t trust any of us, you’re no better then Eva, and you’ll end up the same way she did.”
Naomi felt tears start in her eyes. “How can you be so cruel?” she whispered.
“Not half as cruel as you are to yourself. You act like we’re all incompetents—even Eric—and only you can save the day. At least I know the definition of teamwork. Grow up, Naomi. This is real life!”
Her tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. Without another word, Naomi stood up and walked into her chilly bedroom and firmly shut the door behind her.
Keith sighed. He adjusted the sling keeping his shoulder immobile, and reached for the keys to the generator room, where the portable radio antenna was stored. He wouldn’t be able to get it onto the roof, but he could probably mount it on the woodpile and string the cable through the cabin’s radio hole. It wouldn’t transmit or receive outside the park, but at least it would function inside Yosemite for some distance. With any luck, it would pick up Eric and Lindsey after they’d cleared the pass on their return journey. As Eric struggled to get his good arm into his coat, he thought, Naomi’s gonna be the death of me, yet.
BINOCULARS TO HIS FACE, Wilson continued to watch the cabin from the outcropping he’d hiked to earlier. He’d seen one female ranger and the dog outside earlier checking on the downed radio tower that held the antenna. That destruction was a piece of luck for him, since without the right tools he couldn’t have done it himself, not like the storm did. But his jubilant mood turned decidedly sour when he’d noticed the wounded male ranger outside near the woodpile struggling with what looked like a miniature antenna.
Where was the healthy male? Where was the other female? There could be only one reason for a wounded ranger to tackle such an important chore alone. He was protecting the remaining woman—which meant the other two had left…probably with Pam.
Fury pumped through Wilson’s veins. They must’ve left during the night, because he’d kept vigil on the cabin the rest of the time. On snowshoes, the hike from his present shelter to his lookout point didn’t take him too long. Weather permitting, he’d checked regularly on the rangers who held his daughter. Only it appeared they’d outsmarted him. Pam was long gone. By now they’d probably taken her far enough to make recapture difficult, if not impossible.
He’d have to try something else, like holding the female ranger hostage and exchanging her for his daughter. As for the male ranger— Wilson had missed eliminating him the first time. He’d make damn sure he succeeded the second time around, but he didn’t have a good shot right now. That damn cabin was too sheltered, too low among the surrounding hilly terrain. He’d have to let the one-armed ranger finish getting the antenna rigged. It would save Wilson some work later on. Might as well leave the man alone—for now. Tomorrow would be a different story.
Lee Vining City Hospital
Same Day, late afternoon
UNDER ERIC’S GAZE, Lindsey sat on the emergency room table, her raw, sprained wrist dressed and wrapped. The aching lump on her head—a glancing blow from a flying ski, she seemed to recall—had been X-rayed at the same time as her wrist and pronounced not serious. No frostbite, no exposure, no serious damage, thanks to good fortune and the
helicopter that had carried the three of them to safety. She felt passable physically now that she’d warmed up. Emotionally, though, she’d been better. She glanced at the door to the cubicle, wondering how Pam had fared.
“I’m glad Pam’s mother made it here,” Lindsey said. “It doesn’t seem fair, what those two have gone through. I hope things turn out better for them.”
Mrs. Wilson had arrived with tears of joy at the reunion, then tears of pain at her daughter’s condition. She’d briefly, but fervently, thanked Eric and Lindsey, then gone to consult with the pediatrician, who planned emergency surgery that night. He hadn’t been optimistic about saving all the toes on the child’s feet. No further treatment was needed for Pam’s frostbitten nose, and her fingers were fine.
“You’ll see her again,” Eric said.
“I won’t.” I won’t be here. We have to go back to Yosemite.
Lindsey’s attending physician walked in. “You’re all set to go, Ms. Nelson,” he said. “Sign these papers and you’ll be on your way.” He went on with the usual safeguards, warnings, come-back-ifs, and concluded by passing her a prescription for mild painkillers and a recommendation to take a week off from work. He’d also asked one last time if she’d consider spending the night under observation, but Lindsey refused.
“You sure she’s okay?” Eric asked, signing the workers’ comp statement that attested Lindsey was injured on the job. “Maybe she should stay.”
Lindsey answered for herself. “I’m fine. Let’s go!” she insisted. She collected her gear, thanked the doctor and took her copy of the paperwork. With Eric at her side, she left the hospital.
“Where’s the nearest hotel with room service?” she asked, glad a rental vehicle had been left for them in the hospital parking lot by staff from the rangers’ main office. Their sled, Eric’s ski gear, Lindsey’s ski boots and their packs were already stowed in the trunk and back seat.
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