No Safe Haven (8 page)

"It's too dangerous and I don't think he'd survive. Besides, like I said, we need to hide the sleds with extra supplies for when we come back down." His gaze softened. "I promise we'll send someone back for him, and we'll try to make him as comfortable as possible."

While she couldn't bring herself to admit that leaving Hank seemed like sweet revenge after what he'd done, she did feel guilty. All she could do was nod. She needed to think of Andie and do everything in her power to keep them alive.

ANDIE

April 7

Sultana, Denali National Park

7:19 a.m.

"What are you talking about? We don't need an ice chest with packets, it will just slow us down. And if you haven't noticed, we are surrounded with
ice.
" Cole threw the ice chest onto the ground and glared at Mom. "Be reasonable, Jenna!"

She is being reasonable.

"You don't understand. Those are Andie's medical packets for her vest. They keep her cold, so of course we need them!"

See? I told you.
I smiled on the inside.
Men.

Mom stormed over and picked the packets back up. She shook a finger at him. "I'm trying to protect my daughter, and in order to do that we
have
to take them."

Time seemed to creep by as I waited for their arguing to stop.

"Never mind!" Mom crossed her arms and stomped over to our stuff. She started packing.

I looked heavenward with a sigh.
Please help Mom not burst a blood vessel.
Or kill Cole.

Cole watched her vent, then shook his head.

Ya did it to yourself, dude.

———

No!
I stared at Cole. "But, he has to come with us, we can't leave him here!"

Cole stared at the plane as Mom hobbled over.

"What's going on?" She glared at him and put her hands on her hips.

Cole ignored her and turned back to me.

"Andie, there won't be enough time or energy to bring him with us." Cole shook his head. "I'm sorry. But we'll have to send someone back for him. He'll be all right."

"No!" I kicked the snow and clenched my fists. Why couldn't they see that Hank didn't have that much time left? Tears fell again.

"Andie, I promise we'll send someone back for him." Cole kneeled down in front of me and grabbed my fist. "But you need to let this go."

"Why? Hank will die if he doesn't come."

"Andie." Mom walked over. "We need to leave him in God's hands. There's nothing we can do about it."

"Jenna, this isn't helping." Cole stood and again looked toward the plane.

God, please, I can't leave him here!

"What are you talking about? She's my daughter, let me handle this." Mom followed Cole over to some packs.

I snuck back to the plane.

Hank lay on the floor/ceiling. His gaze held confusion.

Did he hear our conversation?
Tears spilled out of my eyes and into my goggles, but I couldn't stop them.

I grabbed four water bottles and some granola bars then put them next to Hank's left arm. My stomach growled. I needed to eat something. But who could at a time like that?

"Why . . . are you . . . helping . . . me?" Scratchy and yet sweet, his voice seemed to float in the sad little plane.

"Hank." I grabbed his hand and squeezed, not even thinking about the blood that coated it. If we were leaving him—if he was going to die—he needed to know something. "God loves you, just like He loves me. Just like He loves everyone." I gazed into his eyes, searching for a sign as more tears escaped. "Jesus died for you and me so that we can have eternal life with Him. All you have to do is believe in Him, Hank. Please, just believe."

He just stared. After a long pause, he nodded.

"Andie."

I turned and saw Mom standing at the entrance, eyeing Hank.

"We need to go."

Giving his hand one last squeeze, I tucked his arms into the sleeping bag, and covered him with an old army blanket Dad used to use.

Hank gave a firm look. "Go."

I stopped and stared.

"No time . . . Go!"

———

I barely noticed as Mom put the climbing harness on me. She talked, but her words seemed to bounce off walls in my head, echoing.

Yet, I still didn't understand them because they were slurred. I thought I was passing out. But I wasn't dizzy. No blackness came.

I heard faint voices. Someone pushed me down.

I sat in the snow.

How did I get on the ground?

Cole. Cole was pushing me back telling me to lie down. My stomach growled. That was it. I hadn't eaten anything all morning. I needed food.

"Andie . . . Andie, can you hear me?"

I shook my head and blinked trying to clear the fog.

Cole sat, digging in the emergency bag. Something about him sparked inside of me. But what was it?

Kind brown eyes shot up and met mine as he passed me a granola bar. Was he concerned about me?

"Eat. Now." He turned back around.

I shook my head and opened the bar's crinkled wrapper.

Cole Maddox, are you hiding something?

Cole checked and made sure our harnesses were secure, then we started climbing.

I slipped a couple of times but regained my balance. The ropes and harnesses were uncomfortable, the straps of the pack pulling at my shoulders, but I didn't complain.

Mom's and Cole's were uncomfy as well, and they weren't complaining.

But my muscles ached and it hurt to breathe.
Ugh, this is awkward.

Stop it, Andie. You've climbed up hills and steep inclines before. Then again, none of them were even close to this steep.

After climbing for what seemed like hours, Mom and Cole slowed down.

It's me, I'm slowing them down.
I always make everything harder for everyone.
Stupid nerve disorder.

We kept climbing, but the longer we climbed, the shorter the distance we seemed to go.

Why is this taking so long?

My face scrunched as my back began to itch.

Then my face.

But, it wasn't a normal itch. It was more of a static-y, tingling itch.

My cheeks and back began to burn and my legs weakened as things seemed to swirl around me.

Was I overheating?

Mom. I've got to tell Mom.
Dizziness began to take over and my goggles started fogging up.

"Mom? I—"

My foot slipped.

Air rushed all around me as the rope slid through my hands and the harness. I felt the rope's pressure on the butterfly bandages. My chest closed up. I couldn't breathe. Blurry images flew by as I sailed downward.

Everything disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVEN

COLE

April 7

Sultana, Denali National Park

10:51 a.m.

"Andie!"

Jenna's scream echoed around Cole, and it was all he could do to keep them steady as she strained at the ropes to go after her daughter.

"Jenna, stop! Hold still!"

She wasn't listening. "Andie!" She looked up at him, terror in her eyes.

Before she could say another word, he moved down the line to Jenna and yanked off his head gear.

"I told you not to put her last! Do something! Please—"

The wind whipped around them, making it difficult to hear. Standard climbing procedure was heaviest to lightest when skills were equal, or strongest people first and last. With Jenna's injury, he'd done the logical thing: made a decision. So many things could go wrong and with this unfamiliar terrain, he had no desire to put them all at risk by weighing them down. But that didn't matter to this terrified mom. He lifted her a few feet up the rock face to a ledge. "I'm going to anchor you here," he yelled. "Stay put. I'll go down after her." Sinking two of their ice axes deep into the snow-crusted terrain, he wrapped and anchored their ropes. "I need you to watch these, make sure they hold, and be ready to help, understand?"

Jenna nodded, removed her own hat and goggles, and grabbed at his coat while he secured their lines. "Something's wrong, Cole. Please hurry." The anger in her voice had dissipated, replaced with desperation.

That got to him.

Before he could put up his guard, feelings surged through him. Things he hadn't felt in years. Hadn't allowed to surface. Because he couldn't afford to do so. Caring always led to pain.

Stop. Focus.

He lowered himself down the rope. Andie had fallen about twenty-five feet below Jenna, as far as the ropes would allow. But that wasn't what bothered him. She hung upside down, completely limp. He knew that she had some kind of rare disorder, but he hadn't had time to find out all the details. He hadn't expected to find a vibrant, functioning, normal kid.

A new question plagued him. What if he'd put them all in danger by pushing too hard?

It wasn't long before he reached her still form. "Andie."
Keep your voice calm.
He pulled her upright. "Andie, talk to me. What's happening?"

"Uhhhhhnnn . . . mmmomm . . ."

Cole yanked off her goggles and checked her pupils. Eyes were glassy. "Andie, I need you to stay awake."

"Uhh . . . kay . . ."

He pulled off her ski mask. Bright red cheeks, skin hot to the touch. He yelled as loud as he could up to Jenna, careful not to let his alarm come through in his voice. "She's burning up. And she's bright red."

"Take off her coat! She's overheating!" Jenna's words fought the fierce wind as they floated down to him, but he didn't miss the panic in her voice.

That's right. Marc's words registered again. The kid couldn't sweat or feel pain.

"Andie, stay with me. Stay awake." He lifted off her pack, unzipped her jacket, and gently pulled her arms out one at a time. Grabbing some snow from the side of the cliff, he wet down her face and neck. Surely it wouldn't take long for her to cool off in these temps. "Andie, look at me."

No response. All her symptoms pointed to heatstroke, but could it really be that? On the side of a mountain? In frigid temps?

"Andie"—he made the words forceful—"wake up."

Jenna's shout echoed down to him, "Cole? Cole? Andie?"

Cole rubbed Andie's face again.

Her eyes opened and worked to focus on him. She blinked. "Cole . . ."

He released a sigh. "Hey, you back with us?"

She glanced around. Each moment that passed, her eyes gained clarity.

"Did you hurt anything? Can you talk to me?" He continued questioning her, hoping the lethargy would clear. He removed his own ski goggles and placed a hand to her forehead. At least her skin wasn't burning any longer. He unclipped a water bottle from a carabiner at his waist and positioned it at her lips. "Drink."

He looked up at Jenna and waved an arm, hoping she understood that Andie was alert and okay. That was too close. His heart thumped. Time to squelch these feelings.

After chugging the entire water bottle, Andie smiled. "Cole?"

"Yeah?"

"You have icicles on your eyebrows." She reached up, tentatively touching his face, and smiled again. "It's kinda warm today, huh?"

He allowed a small laugh to escape. "I'm glad you inherited your dad's wit. Guess you're feeling better?"

"Well, I don't know. Everything's not so fuzzy anymore." She shrugged her shoulders. "Thanks, Cole. Guess I overexerted. I'm sorry I slowed you down."

Cole winced. It was his fault, pushing them to extremes to prove he could protect them. "Andie, no. You didn't do anything wrong." He checked her harness. Avoided eye contact. "Sometimes . . . well sometimes, I get too focused on the mission."

"The mission?" Andie giggled. "Oh, Cole. You are way too serious. Now you sound just like my dad."

He allowed himself another brief chuckle as he clipped the water bottle back into place and prepared to climb. "Well, your dad and I were friends. I should have told you earlier. And yes, we had many missions together."

"I know."

"Oh? How did you know?"

"I overheard you talking to Mom. It's okay, it reminds me of my dad."

He cocked an eyebrow and checked their ropes.

"But that doesn't mean I trust you."

"Of course not."

"So, are you ready to get me up this mountain?"

The kid had spunk. "Sure thing. Let's get you up to your mom. I'm sure she's pretty worried."

"All right, Mr. Mission. I'm ready."

After repositioning himself in his harness, he tied Andie's coat around her waist and shoved her hat and mask into the pockets. "You can't stay exposed to these temps too long, so once we get up there, you need to cover your skin, okay?"

"Yes, sir!" She gave him a mock salute.

"Safe to say you don't have to wear your heavy coat while we're climbing."

"Good guess." She giggled again.

Cole had forgotten the beauty of a child's laughter. Andie was almost a teen, but she touched something deep. Just like his—

He shook his head. Couldn't let his thoughts go there. "All right, I came down here without my ice axe, so you are going to have to hold onto me while I get us up over that ledge. I need you to carry your pack though. I'll do all the work, but there's no other way to get it up there. Then you can have your mom check you out, get you geared up properly, and we'll move some more. Sound good?"

"Yep." She was already grabbing hold of him, positioning her legs and arms to be out of the way as he climbed.

"Need more water?"

"I'm good. At least until we get the next twenty or so feet."

Man, she reminded him of her dad. Especially in the early years. "Smart aleck. Since you're so brilliant, your call name will be Einstein."

"Awesome! I've always wanted one of those! Now let's get movin,' tough guy. We're wasting daylight." She hugged him tight.

One step, two. Each slow and calculated as he pulled them up the rope. Almost past the sheer vertical climb. Cole held the girl pressed to his chest. Careful not to grip too hard. She was so small . . . he could crush her without even thinking. Concentrate on the pressure. The progress. The fact that this was what mattered—getting out. Not that this child had done something no one else had been able to do. For a long time.