Page 5 of No Hope of Rescue

We reach the other side and decouple ourselves from the line, then make our way to the cliff face. Slipping off her gloves, she opts for fingerless thermals. I follow suit and then step into climbing gear.

She looks at me expectantly, running a hand through her dark hair, then tying it back with a band and replacing her blue alpaca knit hat. It’s her good luck hat and used to be our dad’s. She loves it.

“I’ll go first?” she asks.

I nod but remain nervous about her falling. Carter and I left lines here last fall that look good, but I still run the rope, shaking off ice and snow and checking for fraying. Then there’s the required gear double-check with both of us affirming everything works. I give her some slack, and she blows on her hands. Trying to grab chalk will be impossible. Even with the grips in place, it’s going to be hard with ice and snow. At this time of day, the sun can prove a danger if it gets in your eyes.

She looks up, grins at me, and starts. I track her with my eyes, never putting too much stress on the ropes but careful to allow virtually no slack. Her finger and toehold positions are spot-on and her decisions, logical. Only once does she have to backtrack up the thirty-foot face.

When she arrives at the top, she disappears over the rim for a moment. Returning, she waves down and grins. “So, so old.”

But I’m already on my way up. The grips are like ice and they sting. Codie has grit.

“Hey,” she calls down, her voice thin above the crashing of the river. “I can see it,” she says.

“Go!” I say. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

She squats down and checks the top knot, gives me a thumbs-up, and then disappears again.

A downed plane. What could be more exciting to an eighteen-year-old bent on adventure? Without a flight plan or a report, this has to be an old wreck. I just don’t remember seeing any fuselage when we were here last fall, but the foliage would have been thicker then.

I call her name.

Nothing.

Realizing the cliff face and the river are probably drowning out my voice, I move faster.

The grips are slippery. I love ice climbing, but not with this gear. I’m impressed she was able to ascend so quickly.

I haul myself up over the ledge, the snow already flattened by her own assault on the lip. Standing, dusting snow from my pants, I blink and look around. The sun is blinding. I squat for a moment and tie the rope up higher as a precaution. If something slips, it won’t slip through completely.

I stand to decouple myself, but suddenly that’s no longer a priority. I’m not sure what happens next. A strange feeling of something being off, coupled with movement to my right, in my periphery, makes me turn around.

Two men, and then a third, crashes through the woods. Two of them are holding Codie—one is behind her with his hand over her mouth, and she’s struggling hard.

I open my mouth to speak.

And never get a chance to.

The single shot rings, clapping my ears.

Somewhere, Codie screams.

There’s a force, maybe a bullet, maybe the wind, something, and I’m hurled backward, down over the edge, facing blue sky and nothing more.

Chapter Two

Riley Delgado

I’m standing at the base of Echo Mountain, with two snowmobiles in the back of my truck, waiting to go up.

Devon Russo and Luke Walker always look perfect together. I had met them a few times, then heard they broke up right before Devon left Luke to move back east. But now they’re together again, and it’s as if no time has passed. They wanted to stay in Denver for the night and have breakfast with other friends in the morning, but now they’re ready to roll and reclaim their cabin.

I can’t wait to see them. So far, all logistics have been over the phone. When they pull up, Carter Weston is driving his half-ton pickup. The snow is thick, about two feet here at the base at the mountain. The cabin is near the top, and for Luke and Devon, this is a romantic return. The Westons have been using the cabin as base camp for many search and rescue operations.

Carter steps out, walks to back, lowers the tailgate and slides a third Ski-Doo to the ground as Luke and Devon exit from the passenger side. Sandy haired and good-looking, he’s lean and muscular. Devon’s a perfect match. Though diminutive, she seems a powerhouse.

Carter explains that Brock and Codie have been up there for two days.