"What's the temp?" she asked.

"Shit, it's already down to fifteen, McKenna."

Their eyes met, both worried. They started on up the trail again, their thighs aching. When they reached the top, they were able to see to the west and they stared out over the mountains. Dark, dark clouds, swollen with snow, hung heavily over the trees and as they watched, the wind increased, swirling around them, flinging icy snowflakes onto their faces.

Chris shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. She was putting their own lives in danger by staying out here, but out here they were. Even if they started back now, they would never make it down the mountain before the heart of the storm hit. They would have to find shelter somewhere, but she would worry about that later. Right now, they had to find the skier and hope that hypothermia had not taken him already.

"Let's hurry, Bobby. You check to the left, I'll take the right."

He nodded and they set out, both keeping their eyes on the side of the trail, looking for any sign of their skier. Another half-hour and the tracks they were following would be covered. Then, it would be only sheer luck if they found him.

They moved quickly over the snow, their skis sliding easily over the fresh powder. The trail was level here as it headed into the forest again. Chris's radio crackled seconds before Roger's voice called for her. They stopped and she quickly unhooked her radio and answered.

"We've got everything closed down here, McKenna. What's your ten-twenty?" he asked.

"We're probably three miles into the Nevada Trail. Maybe more." She looked at Bobby with raised eyebrows. It was hard to tell how far they were. Their usual landmarks were now buried in snow.

"I don't like it, McKenna. It's getting nasty down here."

"Yeah, the same here."

"Fifteen more minutes, then I want you turning back. How the hell are you going to get down?"

"I haven't thought about it," she lied.

"Fifteen, McKenna."

"Ten-four." She snapped the radio back on and started out again without looking at her watch. She didn't know what good it would do to head back in fifteen minutes. The storm would still catch them. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of wind and snow and headed out again.

A short while later, Bobby's voice stopped her.

"McKenna, look here. Could be skis," he said, pointing.

Two uneven tracks led off the trail, now all but covered up by the snow. She looked into the woods and saw a clearing.

"Could be. He might have seen that clearing and went to take a look, get his bearings. Let's follow it," she said. "It's all we've got."

They hurried off, leaving the relative safety of the trail behind, to follow the fading tracks. Roger's voice broke the silence and she ignored it, instead concentrating on the path ahead of them.

"Goddamn it, McKenna!" he bellowed through the radio.

She impatiently snatched it off. "We've got a trail, for God's sake, Roger!"

"Listen to me, McKenna. They've got whiteout conditions only fifteen miles from here. You've got to find shelter now!"

She looked at Bobby, just now noticing how thick the snow was falling. She looked at their trail, disappearing quickly. "Just a little longer, Roger."

"No! Goddamn it, McKenna, you damn fool. Let it go!"

"Ten-four."

"I mean it!"

"Ten-four." She switched off the radio and met Bobby's eyes. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "We're this far. Where the hell are we going to find shelter anyway?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

They continued into the forest, hurrying now as the wind whistled around them, blowing snow into their faces. It was another ten minutes before they saw the blue jacket, barely visible through the snow.

He was lying face down and Chris was sure he would be dead. It doesn't take long for hypothermia to kill and they had no idea how long he had been here. Long enough to nearly cover him in snow, though. They turned him over quickly and Chris bent to his chest, clearly surprised to find his heart beating.

"Alive," she said and they both threw off their packs. Bobby quickly assembled the aluminum rack they would use to carry him and Chris took out the blanket from her pack and two chemical hand warmers, which she placed inside his jacket. They dusted off as much snow as they could, then lifted him onto the rack and covered him with the blanket.

"Hook the ropes, Bobby. I'll radio Roger."


Chapter Thirty-nine

Jessie paced nervously in the ranger station, finally stopping to meet Roger's eyes.

"You know she didn't turn around, don't you?" she asked Roger.

"Yes, the damn fool," he said. He had known all along that there wouldn't be enough time for them to get up the mountain and back down before the storm hit. Chris had known it, too.

Jessie had heard the updated forecast on the radio and had tried to call Chris. When she couldn't find her, she had even called Annie to see if she'd heard from her. She finally drove into town, relieved to find Chris's Jeep at the ranger station. Only Chris wasn't there. Roger told her that Chris and Bobby were out on the mountain looking for a skier.

Roger paced, too. He would wait a few minutes, then contact her again. God, she could be so stubborn sometimes. He looked around the room, seeing the worried look on Matt's face and the near frantic look in Jessie Stone's eyes. Only Hatcher remained impassive. When he met Jessie's eyes, he gave her a reassuring smile, then turned away. He didn't want her to see the worry in his own eyes. Blizzard conditions, whiteout, temperatures near zero. How would they survive the night?

"Roger, come in," McKenna's voice called urgently and he quickly snatched up the radio.

"Here."

"We found him. Unconscious but alive. Hypothermia for sure, maybe a concussion. He's got a pretty nice gash on his forehead. Probably hit a rock when he fell."

"Where are you?" he asked, not bothering with the radio code.

"We're still in the forest, about a half-mile off the trail," she said.

"Shit." He shook his head and met Mart's eyes. "Now what?"

"I don't know, Roger. We're going back to the trail and see how it is. We need to get down a little lower, the wind is hell up . . ." The radio crackled static over her voice.

"You're breaking up, McKenna. Ten-nine," he said, asking her to repeat her previous transmission.

"I'll check back after..."

"I'm not picking you up, McKenna. Ten-nine," he said again.

"Later. I'm out, Roger."

The static ended and silence hung between them in the room. Roger looked at the others and shrugged.

"I guess we wait."

"Man, I'm glad it's not me out there," Robert said.

"You know what, Hatcher? We're all glad it's not you out there. Because if it were up to you, you'd be sitting at a nice fire right now not giving a damn about anyone."

Matt stared at Roger then turned to Robert.

"Why don't you get out of here, man? We can handle it."

"Hey, I didn't mean anything," he said.

"Go home, Hatcher," Roger said. "The roads are getting bad. I'd hate for you to be stuck here with us."

"Fine with me."

After he left, Matt turned to Roger.

"Just once, I'd like to deck the guy. No wonder McKenna can't stand him."

"Yeah, he's a piece of work."

Jessie watched the exchange in silence, just barely able to hold her own tongue.

"Can they make it, Roger?"

"I don't know, Jessie. They'll be carrying an extra man," he said, letting his voice trail off. He didn't know how they could make the night. They were probably damn near exhausted as it was. Put up a tent and tie it down? Maybe, but neither of them carried a tent big enough for three. He shook his head. It was damn foolish to have sent them up there to begin with. The desperate feelings he felt last spring settled over him, and he prayed the outcome would not be the same.

"I want to stay here," Jessie said.

"No. There's nothing you can do here. Go to Annie's while the roads are still passable. Sit by the fire. I promise I'll call the minute I hear something. Promise."

"She means a lot to me, Roger. An awful lot," Jessie confessed.

"She means a lot to me, too. But there's nothing we can do now. They're on their own."


Chapter Forty

They put on their snowshoes and strapped their skis to their packs. It took them nearly forty minutes to pull him to the trail. They had to stop to maneuver him around trees and rocks, then nearly missed the trail. It was snowing so hard, they could barely see in front of them and they very nearly crossed over the trail and into the forest on the other side. Their tracks were almost completely covered and if they hadn't stopped to rest, they might have missed it.

"What are we going to do, McKenna?" Bobby asked urgently.

"Let's get down to Little Bear Creek. I have an idea," she said. She remembered the camping trip with Jessie when she had told her about caves. She said they were upstream, about a mile. A mile in this weather would seem like forever, but right now, it was all she could think of. She didn't want to consider that Jessie was a child the last time she had been here. What's a mile to a kid?

They made good time on the trail, pulling him easily in the snow.

Before they headed downhill towards the stream, Chris checked on Kenny. He was still unconscious and his skin felt cold. Very cold. She took off her pack and pulled out her sleeping bag and laid that on top of him, too. They had to get him warm or he would surely die.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

They headed down the hill, faces turned into the fierce wind, and it took all of their strength to hold the injured skier behind them. If they weren't careful, he would go sliding down the hill without them, right into the stream. They both walked sideways, letting their snowshoes dig into the side of the hill for support. The steep hill leveled out before the stream, and they were able to relax the last fifty feet. At Little Bear Creek, which was now covered with snow, Chris turned upstream and she knew immediately that it wasn't going to be easy. Boulders littered the sides, some covered entirely with snow, and time and again they stepped, only to sink up to their waists as their feet missed a rock.

"Bobby, we've got to go a mile," she yelled against the wind. "Help me gauge the distance, okay?"

"I'll try," he yelled back.

She cringed as a gust of wind hit, nearly knocking them over. They could only see a few feet ahead as snow swirled in their faces. The blizzard had hit. She braced against the wind with every step and kept her eyes glued to the stream so that they wouldn't get lost. She thought briefly of all the stories she had heard about people lost in blizzards, wandering around in circles for hours before succumbing to the cold and surrendering to death. She wasn't about to let that happen to them. If nothing else, they would head into the trees and try to put up a tent and lie three-deep to try to stay warm. Stay warm? She couldn't remember the last time she'd been warm. She felt nearly frozen, head to toe.

She stared ahead, her eyes focused on the stream. She felt her nose running and ran a cold gloved hand under it and realized that it was numb. The wind pounded around them swirling the snow, and she lowered her head and continued on, trying to ignore the coldness that surrounded them.

She finally stopped to rest and turned to Bobby.

"How far?" she yelled.

He pushed his parka up his arm and looked at his watch. "Not a mile yet, I don't think," he said. "Where the hell are we going, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," she said, knowing he'd not heard her. God, it felt like they'd traveled at least five miles. She turned back into the wind and walked on, spitting out an obscenity as she sank again to her waist. She got back up and continued on, Bobby beside her as they pulled the unconscious Kenny Walker between them.

Fifteen minutes later, she again stopped. "Bobby, it's got to have been a mile."

"What are we looking for?"

"A cave," she yelled.

"Cave? What cave?"

"There's supposed to be a cave around here."

"Are you sure? I've never heard of a cave."

"No, I'm not sure," she said and looked around, trying desperately to see through the thickening snow. What had Jessie said? They would come to a flat area with outcroppings of granite. Right or left? She thought left, but she wasn't sure. She peered into the snow, but it was no good. She couldn't see two feet in front of them. They were never going to find the caves like this.