Authors: Kimberley Woodhouse
Tell him . . .
Daddy would still be my hero. I didn't have to move him to second place.
I smiled.
Okay, God.
"Hey, Cole?"
"Yeah, Einstein?" Cole turned and grabbed his pack.
"I love you."
He jerked to a stop and stared at me.
Yes, I really mean that.
A strange faraway look glimmered in his eyes. "I'll be back before you know it." He started climbing down.
Sitting down beside Mom, I watched his every move.
God? I'm sorry. I haven't been handling things the way I should have. Please, please, keep Cole safe.
I grabbed mom's gloved hand. Why was he so surprised when I told him I loved him? He may have been hard to like, but not that hard!
After awhile, I saw Cole looking around near the crash site.
God, please help him find it.
He uncovered a sled. After about ten minutes he was climbing again, dragging the sled behind him.
It's getting colder.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around my stomach.
Cole, get up here soon.
I peeked again at the ridge and gasped.
Cole was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
COLE
April 10
Sultana, Denali National Park
8:08 PM
The cold, icy floor of the crevasse greeted him with the impact of a three-hundred-pound football player slamming into his side and forcing all the air from his body.
Stunned from the fall, Cole struggled to suck air back into his lungs. He blinked rapidly. One short breath. Then another. And another, until he could finally breathe normally again. It'd been a long time since the wind had been knocked out of him. The painful reminder was not a welcome one.
With a grunt, he flopped onto his back, but the pack was cumbersome and awkward. And not a very good pillow. Pain radiated up and down his right side as the numbness from the impact disappeared.
Great. Just great.
He inhaled deeply, testing his lungs. The cold air burned through him as he forced them to expand. No ribs seemed to be broken.
But he was in a hole.
Alone.
Studying the walls of sheer ice and snow that towered above him, he worried about Andie. Probably getting a little anxious right now. Did she see what happened? Hopefully not. The snow-covered ridge had hidden the sliver of an opening into this dangerous drop. He hadn't seen it until it was too late. If Andie had been watching, he'd probably just slipped from her view.
Cole shook his head and stretched each of his limbs and sat up.
Focus, Maddox.
This was a mission. A minor setback. He just needed a plan.
He removed his pack and outer coat. Where was the sled? It hadn't fallen into the crevasse with him, so hopefully it was still up there, and hadn't slid farther down the mountain. They needed the supplies, and they needed the sled to be able to get Jenna to safety.
Another wave of worry passed over him. How had he let himself get so attached to those two? Feelings and worry had no place during an assignment. He needed to shake it off.
Focusing his gaze on the hole he fell through, he envisioned successfully climbing out. It wouldn't be easy scaling the slick ice. Examining the ravine-like walls, he realized it reminded him of a slot canyon. Only this wasn't rock. And it was narrower than any slot canyon he'd ever hiked or climbed. Pulling back the layers of sleeves covering his watch, he glanced down to check the time.
A heavy sigh slumped his shoulders as the facts sunk in to his brain.
Only a couple hours of daylight left.
He had to climb out of this crevasse and hike all the way back up to the girls.
He wouldn't make it before dark.
But he had to make it. He'd made a promise.
New determination spread throughout his body. No time to waste. Cole crouched down by his pack and dug out another bottle of water and a protein bar. He downed the nourishment quickly, keeping his gaze above him on the climb ahead.
He didn't have all the right gear for this, but still had an ice axe and crampons. If he could climb the first ten feet on the north side, he should be able to turn sideways and climb the rest of the way shimmying between the two ice walls.
Dangerous, but doable.
"All right, God. I'm not convinced you're there, but Andie sure is. Jenna needs a hospital, and many lives are in danger. So for their sakes, how about a little help?" He shoved his outer coat into his pack, lifted it up, and settled it onto his shoulders. Buckling the straps at his chest and waist, he took one last, long glance upward. From here on out, he would have to concentrate on one step—one grip—at a time.
ANDIE
April 10
Sultana, Denali National Park
9:00 p.m.
Cole was nowhere in sight.
Cole!
Memories of my dad's death flooded back.
Mom crying, someone apologizing, my brain refusing to function as I listened to Mom tell me the bad news. Mom's pain, my anger.
Lost hope.
In the hospital, I wouldn't eat anything. Wouldn't talk to anyone but Mom and Zoya. The only thing I did was read my Bible. And pray.
I prayed a lot waiting for Cole too. I couldn't lose him. Not after all he had done for us.
As I sat there realization settled in that he had protected me every step of the way. He had been there the whole time. Just like my dad.
He could never replace my dad, but I loved him more than words could express.
He had to live, he just had to. I'd already said good-bye as much as I could, I didn't want to say it again.
Mom couldn't die, I wouldn't let her.
Cole couldn't die; if he did, I'd have to kill him.
The tears wouldn't stop, they just decided to invade my "moment."
A gentle prodding, not as interpretable as words, filled my mind and I jumped.
This isn't over yet, Andie . . . have patience.
The "Have Patience" song popped into my head.
There was a snail called Herbert, who was so very slow . . .
"Okay. I'll wait."
So I did. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited a little bit more while eating a power bar. Then waited. And waited. And waited.
I couldn't occupy my mind from the fear of it all. Looking over at Mom, I sighed. "Okay, Lord, time for some action and a pep talk."
After putting Mom in a sleeping bag, I lifted her head up and gave her some water, then checked her temp with our TemporalScanner thermometer.
102 degrees.
Great.
"Okay. Time for the pep talk." Grabbing my pink and green mini Bible from one of the packs, I sat down beside Mom and started reading.
"'This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. The LORD's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him." The LORD is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him. It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for a man that he should bear the yoke in his youth.'"
Okay, Lord. You're letting me grow in You.
"'I called on Your name, O LORD, out of the lowest pit. You have heard my voice, "Do not hide Your ear from my prayer for relief, from my cry for help." You drew near when I called to You; You said, "Do not fear!" O LORD, You have pleaded my soul's cause; You have redeemed my life.'"
True . . . but it's so scary. I'm only twelve!
I closed the Bible and held it close. "God, we've already been through a lot. But I know that Cole isn't dead, unless he met an angel who miraculously told him about You. You wouldn't let him die after we've come all this way, would You?"
There was no response but the wind whistling and swirling the snow around Mom and me. I closed my eyes. Why was this so hard?
"I know I've done a lot of bad things in my life, but could You please help us out of this mess? I know it's a lot to ask, but could You at least save Cole and Mom? They deserve to live, they deserve each other."
No thunderous voice answered. No lightning flashed. Only a gentle whisper rang in a mind covered in darkness and weakness:
Trust Me.
We would make it. I didn't know how, I didn't know when . . .
I just knew we would.
God was still in control and always would be, no matter what.
I glanced at the ridge line. All I could see were bumpy white clumps of snow and the faint outline of the ridge.
Cole still wasn't there.
He'll come, Andie.
Mom was lying on the ground, her chest rose and fell.
Brilliant shades of orange and pink blended together in the sky as the sun set. I shivered and hugged my middle.
It's getting cold and dark. I should do something to keep Mom out of the wind.
Well, thanks to the last few days, I knew how to make a snow cave. I scanned the area around me.
That snowy, deep, clumpy area looks good.
"God, help me do this correctly." I planned out each of the steps, making sure Mom was as much out of the wind as possible.
"Please, Cole. Come back." I glanced one last time at the ridge. "He's in Your hands now, God."
I turned and started digging.
He'll come, Andie . . . He'll come.
COLE
April 10
Sultana, Denali National Park
9:46 p.m.
Third time would have to be the charm. Cole studied the walls once more. What'd he miss? His aching muscles and bruised body screamed at him from the two unsuccessful attempts. Fatigue was setting in, and he couldn't—
wouldn't
allow it.
Hands on his hips, he looked down at the floor. Emotions churned inside him. That was the problem. Or was it?
Clarity seemed to settle over his mind as he let a new thought take root. By holding himself back, pretending to not feel anything, and attempting to make this just another mission—had he set himself up for failure?
And just this once, could caring actually give him the drive to make it?
Andie's words replayed in his mind.
"I love you."
"No!" His voice vibrated against the ice. Rage bubbled up inside him. He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about. And for what purpose? Why?
Andie and Jenna believed in God. But look at where that got them? Marc was gone, and now their lives were in danger. What if their faith was all a cover? What if they were involved?
Cole paced the floor of the narrow crevasse. Seven steps one way, seven steps back. Back and forth.
In his mind, he pictured Jenna. Her beautiful eyes haunted him. She lay up there unconscious. Needing help.
"I trust you, Cole."
That sweet voice. Andie had managed to wrap her little-girl fingers around his heart and squeeze it back to life. Sure the numbness had been a protective measure for a long time, but that little girl up there had opened his eyes again. To love. Family. The longing to be needed.
And she did need him.
Right here. Right now.
He slammed a glove-covered fist against the ice. He didn't care what it took. They wouldn't make it without him.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he allowed himself to truly feel for the first time in many years. A tidal wave of emotion tumbled throughout his body, but instead of the weakness that always followed—a surge of energy jolted through him. Empowered by it, he thrust his ice axe into the wall and attacked the task of climbing.
With each step, the spikes of his crampons dug deeper as his drive toward the top could not be stopped.
Hold on, girls. I'm coming.
His chest threatened to explode as he pushed himself harder, faster, farther. Ignoring the burning in his muscles, he lifted his weight to each new hold. Jenna's beautiful face flashed in his mind. Then Andie's piercing blue eyes. She trusted him. He had to save her.
The space was tight at the opening of the crevasse. Every cell inside him begged for oxygen, but only a few more feet.
Another step.
Then one more.
His axe breached the top and he slammed it down a couple feet in front of him and dragged himself the rest of the way out.
Rolling onto his back, he sucked air in deep, fast breaths.
It didn't matter that his pack was cutting into his kidneys, or that the straps sliced into his shoulders. It didn't matter that the air froze his lungs.
He'd made it.
Brilliant stars glittered in the midnight sky above. Taking the time to catch his breath, he enjoyed the limitless expanse. What an amazing sight. Maybe Andie's God existed after all.
The air was bitter with cold, each puff of air from his mouth making a tinkling sound as the moisture turned to ice. He better move fast if he was going to make it up the mountain to the girls. Especially if they didn't have any shelter. They could freeze to death.
Cole stood up and searched for the sled. He planted a stake by the opening of the crevasse so they wouldn't stumble upon this one again. Need to be more careful.
About twenty feet down the ridge, he found the sled. Grabbing the ropes, he attached them to his harness on each hip.
Now he just needed to get up to his girls.
The thought froze him in his steps.
His girls?
Yes, he'd made a promise. And he would let it drive him forward.
Two hours later, Cole trudged over what he hoped was the last ledge. But as he crested it, the snowy terrain stood barren. No sign of them. Where could they be? He thought for sure this was the area he'd left them. Turning around, he looked down below. No. He knew this was it. The spot he showed Andie to watch for him.
It didn't add up. Jenna was unconscious. Andie couldn't carry her mom, there was no way. But all the gear and the girls were . . . gone. His gaze scanned the snowy mountainside.
Wait. What?
A small stake with something attached to it about fifty feet away.
He plowed his way toward it. Each agonizing step brought him closer, until he recognized the colors on the stake. Someone had made a checkerboard flag out of red and pink duct tape, clearly marking the entrance to a snow cave.