Maverick by Karina Halle


  But Riley loses her grip on the pack.

  Her hand slips away.

  She screams.

  Starts sliding down the ice, down me.

  Reaches up wildly, fighting against her death. Her fingers rake down the length of my legs, trying to stop herself, trying to hold on.

  She gets to my boot.

  Her hands throttle it with all her might, wrapped around my ankle.

  Half of her is hanging off the edge of the cliff, only her grip on my boot keeping her alive.

  “Hang on,” I tell her. I wish she wasn’t wearing gloves. Gloves don’t have the same grip as hands do. Gloves can slip off. We’ve all seen Cliffhanger.

  I don’t know why I’m thinking about this right now. I don’t know why I’m thinking about anything at all. I’m just so stunned by the sheer terror of it all, I don’t know what to do.

  But I’m a leader. I’m a leader and my team is dying.

  Tim and Jace are buried by the avalanche and I’m not there to save them.

  The woman I love is dangling by a thread.

  I could lose everything.

  The fear is overpowering.

  I don’t even think I can move past it.

  I can’t.

  “Mav,” she cries out softly. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

  The poignancy of her words brings me out of it.

  Fear will find you. Better you find it first.

  So I let in the fear.

  I let it fuel me.

  “Don’t you fucking say that,” I growl at her. “You’re not dying, not here, not today.”

  “Mav,” she pleads and I hate the sorrow I see in her eyes. “Mav…I…”

  I swallow hard, gathering strength and I roar, “Hang on!”

  I take one of my hands off of the axe so I’m holding on with just one hand now, my wrist and arm screaming in pain as I try and hold up the weight of my body and hers. I reach back into my pack with my free hand and feel around until I find another ice axe.

  “Don’t let go!” I yell at her, surprised at how strong my voice sounds, and then I slam the new axe into the ice right beside the current one.

  Then I lift up that one and with all my strength, my muscles straining, my body pushed to the limit, the pain coursing from my wrist to my toes, I reach up and slam the next axe down, right into the ice.

  We move up a few inches. Riley is pulled up with me, still hanging on for her life.

  And this is how we do it.

  This is how I save our lives.

  Slowly, so slowly.

  Inch by inch.

  Axe by axe.

  I climb up the near vertical slope, supported only by thin blades of metal into ice, pulling up Riley with me as I go.

  My muscles are shaking, breaking.

  My mouth tastes like pennies.

  I can’t even feel the cold anymore, that’s how cold I am.

  And the whole time I talk to Riley. I talk about Friends. And how she’s more Phoebe than anyone else, but she does have a bit of batshit crazy Monica in her. She doesn’t talk back much but she’s listening and staying alive and she’s holding on and that’s all I can ask for.

  It’s all I can ask for.

  I don’t know how long it takes but we finally get to the top of the slope where the angle isn’t as steep, the ridge where we were earlier is now coated in a fresh dump of snow thanks to the avalanche.

  The avalanche.

  I can’t even think of that yet.

  I wait until I get a hard stance and then I reach down and take Riley’s hand, my grip firm around her wrist.

  I pull her up to me and she collapses into my arms. To her credit – to our credit – we manage to keep it together, too many emotions swirling around at once.

  I may have just pulled her up four hundred feet of ice using just two ice axes but two of our teammates are buried in the snow out there.

  Instinct tells me we are too late now to help but our job is to search and rescue and sometimes you can just rescue one, just save one.

  I saved Riley.

  We get over the ridge and look down into the glacier bowl.

  There’s nothing but white. No sign they were ever there.

  I’m spent. I’m shaking. I’m not sure how to get through this.

  Riley does though. She goes into my pack and finds the device that picks up their transmitters. We always wear them if we’re out as a team, that way someone else can locate you and dig you out. Like now.

  The device beeps, showing us on the GPS where to go.

  We’re stiff at first, muscles sore and spent but we push through, running and falling and tumbling down the avalanche debris. This is dangerous in itself, but after what we just survived, I couldn’t give a fuck anymore. All I care about is saving everyone else. I need to save more.

  We reach them in the middle and begin the frantic dig to free them. I have a shovel I give to Riley and I use my hands and I can see from the determined look on her forehead that she’s been here before and she doesn’t want another Levi on her hands. She bounced back from almost losing her life right away. I want to be proud of her but at this moment, I can’t feel anything good.

  All I keep thinking is that I failed.

  I failed Tim. I failed Jace.

  I even failed the dead climber.

  With each scoop of snow I clear out, I hear the word “failed.”

  I failed.

  I failed.

  I failed.

  And then it happens.

  The snow beneath the shovel starts to move.

  A fist breaks through.

  It’s Jace.

  We pull him out of the snow and he’s wheezing for breath, paler than the snow and tinged with blue, but he’s alive.

  “I had an air pocket,” he cries out, trying to breathe.

  “Shhh,” Riley says, putting her arms around him. “Breathe in, breathe out, we have you.”

  I go back to work, looking for Tim with new hope.

  Riley tries to comfort Jace who seems to be going into shock. I let her do her thing, I do mine.

  Maybe I didn’t fail…

  Maybe I…

  Yellow.

  Bright yellow fabric, poking through the snow.

  I sink my hands down and feel along Tim’s arm.

  All it takes is one touch.

  Just the way his arm responds to my hand.

  Or the way it doesn’t.

  The stiffness.

  Death is wholly inflexible.

  Being covered in an avalanche is the same as having cement poured on you. Sometimes you get lucky with an air pocket, like Jace. Most times, you’re encased, entombed, with nowhere to move, no place to go. You can’t even move your fingers. You die, drowning in the snow, if the blast from the initial impact didn’t knock you out first.

  But I won’t stop. I keep digging, frantic now, until I’ve cleared all the snow away from him.

  Tim.

  Tim who was working at North Ridge Search and Rescue before I got there. Tim who showed me the ropes. Tim who would go climbing with me, telling me all about his upbringing in South Korea. Tim whose favorite trail mix was pistachios, but he would never litter the shells, so he’d always have one pocket full of nuts and another pocket full of empty shells and you’d always hear him coming. We called him the squirrel and I think he liked that. He once told me that squirrels brought luck.

  Tim was wrong about that one.

  Tim who shouldn’t have been on this mountain to begin with. I was the one who should have taken the call. I should be there where he is. He should be finding me.

  “Mav,” Riley whispers, tugging at my sleeve.

  It takes tremendous effort to tear my eyes off of Tim’s face. I look at her. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. I can’t comfort her. I feel nothing but shame. Guilt. It burns everything else away.

  “Mav,” she says again. “We have to call in for the others. We need backup to retrieve them. Jace,??
? she trails off as she looks over at him. He’s sitting in the snow, staring at nothing, wracked by the occasional shiver. “He’s in shock, Mav, we need to get him to the hospital. Now.”

  “I’ll stay here,” I tell her, looking back at Tim. There’s still another dead body buried.

  “You won’t,” she hisses at me, getting angry. “It’s too dangerous. We’re not losing you too.”

  “I’m staying here,” I tell her and block her out.

  “Don’t do this,” she says, tugging on my arm again, harder. “There’s nothing you can do for him now, he’s dead, okay? He’s dead. And you’ll be too if you don’t come back with us. Please. The team needs a leader. You’re the leader. They need you…I need you.”

  “Go without me,” I tell her. “You can handle him yourself. You can handle anything.”

  I feel her silence at my back, trying to think of what to say. She wants to scream at me. She wants to hit me. But I’m not leaving.

  “Fine,” she says. I hear her talking to Jace and then the two of them walk off. I turn around to see them disappear around the crest and down into the trees.

  I collapse to my knees in the snow.

  And cry.

  15

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Riley

  Jace isn’t the only one in shock.

  It’s been a day, the longest day, and it’s night time and I’m at the hospital and yet it doesn’t really feel like I’m here.

  Jace is being treated for hypothermia and should be okay to go soon. It’s about time, it’s eight p.m. and everyone on the team just wants to go home and grieve.

  But I’m not even sure I can grieve. I don’t even feel like I’m present. I think I died a little up there on that mountain. I keep seeing myself going over the edge. I see my fingers letting go of Maverick’s boot. I see myself sliding back, staring into his eyes, knowing they’re the last thing I’ll see and then I’m falling.

  I see it so clearly that I’m not sure I’m even alive.

  “You’re alive,” Tony says tiredly.

  I must have said that out loud. I just nod, too fucked up to even be embarrassed.

  All of us are in the waiting room at the ER. It’s a small hospital and there are a lot of people so we’re all crammed in here. Tony is sitting beside me in the chairs, Neil is pacing. Sam is here too and a few members of the volunteer squad.

  Maverick is out roaming in the halls. I’ve tried to talk to him a few times but he’s not talking. I don’t think he’s in shock though. I think he’s feeling things too clearly.

  The guilt.

  And I know I’m feeling it too.

  “Jace will be out in a moment,” the doctor says to us as he comes into the room. “He’s made a full recovery but…after what happened, well I’m sure the government will take good care of him. You know there are grief counseling services here if anyone needs one.”

  We nod and grunt our thanks.

  Losing Tim has been a blow that I don’t think anyone will recover from. We’re all glad Jace is okay and alive but…

  We lost a member of our family today.

  Because these guys, this team, they are family.

  I sigh and get up, unable to keep still. I need to wake up, need to be here.

  I head over to the coffee machine and get a cup with extra sugar, then go out into the halls. At the end I see Maverick, just outside the doors in the darkness of the parking lot. Just standing there, shoulders slumped, back to me. His breath rises up into the darkness.

  I know this has the chance to break us but I don’t want him to break down. He stayed behind with Tim, sending me and Jace back to get help, and he knew the risks. He knew and didn’t care and I feel that if I don’t bring him back, we’ll lose him as a leader for good. And we need him right now.

  I need him. More than I’ve ever needed anyone.

  I need his protection, his safety. I need him to take care of me and tell me everything is going to be okay.

  I sip my coffee as I walk down the hall. It’s hot, scalding me, tasting burnt, but I gulp down half of it because I feel like it’s the thing to do, I’m a woman playing a part in a play.

  The doors automatically swing open and the cold air hits me in the face but Maverick doesn’t turn around.

  “Want a coffee?” I ask softly.

  I stop where I am, just outside of the doors, so they don’t trigger automatically.

  He doesn’t even move.

  “Mav?” Nothing. “John!” I yell.

  Finally, he looks over his shoulder at me. His eyes are glazed.

  It breaks my heart and leaves me frustrated all at once.

  I come over to him, holding out the coffee. “Here.”

  He shakes his head, looks away. He pulls the beanie further down on his forehead and shoves his hands in his pocket. Everything about his stance right now screams FUCK OFF.

  But I’m not gonna fuck off.

  I take the coffee back and have a sip, but I don’t retreat and my eyes don’t leave him.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.

  He seems to shrug it off. “How is he?”

  “He’s fine. They’re letting him go soon.”

  I watch his throat as he swallows. “Good.”

  “John…”

  “Don’t call me John,” he says in a dull voice.

  “Okay. Sorry. Mav.”

  “Don’t…don’t call me anything right now.”

  Now I get that we’re grieving. I know that’s what’s happening. But even so, those words and his tone sting.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and he shrugs it off.

  “Mav,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Please, talk to me.”

  Silence.

  “This wasn’t your fault,” I go on. “I know you want to blame yourself but…you can’t. It was an accident.”

  “No,” he says quietly, giving a shake of his head. “It wasn’t an accident.”

  I don’t even know what to say to that.

  “This was a mistake,” he mutters.

  I know I don’t know what he’s talking about, but everything inside me clenches, this horrible knot in my gut that tightens at those words.

  “What was a mistake?” I whisper.

  “You and me. Us.”

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  I open my mouth, trying to digest the pain from that hit, to find the words.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Please don’t…please don’t…not now.

  He glances at me and in the sickly light of the hospital’s glow, his eyes are cold. Colder than the ice that almost killed us today.

  “Us, Riley. You and I…together. It was a mistake. I always knew it was but now I know for sure. In the worst possible way.”

  I flinch like I’ve been backhanded. “Mav,” I tell him, my voice breaking, I try and hold myself together. “You’re under a lot of stress right now. We all are. You’re grieving. It’s okay. But don’t make rash decisions or—”

  “This isn’t a rash decision!” he snaps at me. “I know when I fucked up and I fucked up okay? There’s a reason there are rules. It’s so shit like this doesn’t happen. It’s so people don’t fucking die!”

  Oh my God.

  My hand flies to my chest because it feels like my heart is breaking. “What the fuck are you saying? You’re saying we’re responsible for what happened to them? That’s fucking nuts, Mav. That’s crazy!”

  “We did this!” he yells. “He’s dead because of us!”

  Fuck that.

  Fuck you.

  “How dare you!” I scream at him, spittle flying out. “How fucking dare you try and pin this on me! Don’t you think I’ve been through enough already? I’ve been responsible for someone’s death before, I won’t be responsible for this one. It was an accident Maverick, it could have been anyone.”

  “And it should have been me!” he screams right back. “I should have taken that
call, it should have been me on the mountain.”

  “And then maybe you’d be dead too, is that what you want?”

  He shakes his head, walking away.

  “Where are you going?!” I yell and start marching after him. I grab his arm and pull him back but he’s basically a tank and I can’t stop him. “You want to have a pity party and blame yourself for this, fine! But you’re not blaming me. Okay? We knew what we were getting into and we chose to do it, we chose to be with each other, because we are old enough to make our own decisions. We’re fucking adults, John. That is your real name, a real fucking adult name, no wonder you don’t fucking answer to it.”

  That gets his attention.

  He turns and I nearly shrink back from the simmering rage in his eyes.

  “Way to kick a man when he’s down,” he growls.

  “Kick you? I’m trying to save you.”

  “I don’t need saving.”

  “Only me then, huh?”

  He glares at me, looks away. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe…everything is crumbling away. Everything I thought I had, it’s falling through my fingers. I thought I had him.

  I love you, I want to scream it at him. But I know he won’t care.

  “I should have said no to you from the start,” he says.

  “You did say no to me from the start. I wore you down.”

  “And I should have thought with my brains instead of my dick for one second.”

  Again, his words lash me. I feel like I have open wounds all over, stinging from salt. “You were thinking with more than your dick, weren’t you?”

  He clamps his lips together into a thin hard line.

  Oh my God.

  “Please tell me that meant something to you,” I cry out. “Please tell me that wasn’t just sex, that you care about me, that I’m something to you. What we had was…it was real. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it real?”

  He clears his throat. “It was never real. You knew that.”

  My fingers grip the edge of my jacket. I can barely breathe. Today I nearly died but this almost feels worse than that. This is a slow death, right in front of his eyes.

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]