Page 56 of Mountain Target

“Come with me, Sir. I’m going to need your son’s medical history,” Alex said, guiding the man gently away.

One less thing to worry about.

Beau returned his attention to the rocks currently trapping the boy’s hand.

He could see the scene as clearly as if he’d been here himself, the way the boy and his father had been half-way through the narrow pass when some rocks had detached from the wall, high above them. It wasn’t uncommon in winter, for pieces of rocks to get dislodged as water froze in the cracks, putting additional stress on the structure.

This time, however, one of the largest slabs of rock had gotten stuck in the narrow pass right above the man and his son. It’d protected them from the falling rocks—and might be the reason the two of them hadn’t been killed in the process—but had ended up pinning the boy’s hand against the rock wall.

Beau counted the rocks that had piled up above and swallowed a curse.

A fucking Tetris.

There was no way they could remove all those by hand, at least not in the time the boy had, and they were sitting ducks down here if new rocks fell.

It couldn’t have happened in a worse place. It was narrow and impossible to access other than by foot, tight enough that it was only by getting on his stomach and crawling that Ry had been able to get to the other side of the boy.

“We can’t remove those mechanically,” Beau said, thinking through the possibilities out loud. He looked at Hugo, who had a degree in structural engineering, and arched his eyebrow.

Maybe he can see something I can’t.

But Hugo shook his head. “There’s no way. Each of those rocks weighs as much as a small car. And, even if we were successful, we’d likely end up dislodging the rock that’s keeping the entire house of cards from falling on us.”

Fuck.

Ry, normally so calm and cool under pressure, spoke in low tones to the unconscious boy. The medic’s normally golden skin had taken on a ghostly white color that resembled his patient’s skin. Beau didn’t need to ask any questions. If they couldn’t figure this out, Ry would be the one who’d have to amputate the boy’s hand.

And, while Beau understood that it was better for the boy to lose a hand than his life, he also knew it was an unspeakable choice.

Yours to make, if it comes to that.

The responsibility weighed heavily on Beau’s shoulders.

Ry hooked an IV bag to the tube at the boy’s inner elbow. “I’ve started him on fentanyl to control the pain. We don’t have much time.”

Beau breathed a sigh of relief when he turned to see Lorenz running up the trail at top speed, carrying a large backpack. He was wheezing too hard to speak, but immediately took off the backpack and started sorting out through the equipment.

A small chisel and sledgehammer came out first, but Beau knew they’d lose the boy long before they were able to crack the rock open. And it wouldn’t help with the ones above.

Hugo shook his head in silent agreement.

“Micro-blasting’s the only way,” Hugo said in a low voice.

Beau held his breath, but nodded in agreement. Micro-blasting the rock was their only chance of getting the boy out, short of amputation.

But, although he and his team were trained in the use of micro-explosives for rescue operations, the thought of using explosives right next to a fourteen-year-old boy made his blood run cold.

Fuck.

“Hugo, Lorenz, let’s get the equipment ready. Ry, what can we do to protect the boy?”

They worked feverishly, using the cordless drill to make a hole into the center of the rock, large enough to insert the nitrocellulose into.

Beau used a bulb to clear away the dust.

There.

That looks deep enough.