After a dinner of Spam and noodles.
Yum.
The tents blew against the wind, which was starting to pick up as the night settled in around them. Not dark enough for him to need a light, but the mountain did shed long shadows into their enclave. And, if he judged the temperature correctly, it might have dropped another ten degrees.
He barely felt it. Fact was, he might still be running on pure adrenaline, ignited the moment he’d spotted the burned shell of their tent. Even Jake looked a little sick, dropping to his knees to fish through the remains.
An overturned, blackened pot, and a metal water canister.
But no sleeping bag, no packs, so at least the ladies had their gear. They’d left tracks traversing the glacier and down through the icefall, which meant no one was seriously injured.
The scream, however . . .
It had sent a fire through him and he’d practically abandoned his better sense as he took off in a run, nearly dragging Jake and Ham with him through the glacier rubble. He’d spotted the team from a distance by their red and yellow jackets as they scrabbled against the face of the ice to save their friend.
He’d nearly been too late. He’d seen Jenny digging in, trying to keep her friend from plunging to her death, and did the only thing he could think of.
He’d leaped on top of her. Full force, his body pinning her down.
Then held her in his embrace as he kept the axe anchor from moving.
“It’s going to be okay.”
So maybe he’d been a little presumptuous there. He’d reverted to his PJ days, arriving like the hero on the scene.
However, maybe they would be okay, because after they’d shaken off the near fall, they’d managed to climb down below the second icefall without incident. Jake had carried Aria’s pack after he noticed she was limping. They roped Aria between Jake and Ham, while he roped in front of Sasha, Jenny at the back.
He’d been down this route only a couple times, but he remembered a place to camp, just before Karstens Ridge.
Now, the women were huddled in their tent warming up, and according to Ham, who’d checked on them, assessing Sasha’s AMS.
Orion didn’t want to think about what might have happened to them if he hadn’t seen that smoke. Hadn’t listened to his gut.
Ham’s words had been hanging around in his head.
“Every time I pray, it’s like God is saying he’ll help us find them.”
Maybe. Or maybe they just got lucky.
He placed another brick on the wall that circled their tent camp. Jake was cooking outside, in the enclave kitchen he’d built. Now, Orion planted the shovel and came over to the pot. Tiny diced Spam chunks rose to the surface of what should have been chicken soup.
“I have a treat for you tonight, Ry-man,” Jake said.
“Someday I think we can be friends, Silver, but only if you stop serving me Spam.”
Jake grinned from beneath a two-day growth of golden-blond whiskers. “Someday you’re going to thank me for Spam.”
Ham was in the tent when Orion retrieved his sleeping bag from his pack and tossed it in. He sat in his overpants and fleece, wore his polar socks. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of Kit, but the mountain seems to be cutting us off.”
“I’m not surprised. Try it tomorrow, when we’re on Karstens Ridge.”
Ham put down the radio. “So that’s the plan? Hike down the ridge and out through Muldrow Glacier?”
“I don’t see another way.”
“Did you take a look at Aria’s ankle? She says it isn’t broken but I’m not sure. And Sasha still hasn’t kept anything down. It won’t be long before she’s dizzy, and that’s a bad recipe for Karstens. It’s knife sharp, a thousand feet down on either side . . . I don’t know, Ry.”
Orion blew out a breath. “I suppose we could hunker down here and try and pull them off the mountain by chopper.”
“If we can get ahold of camp.”
Orion sighed. “At least we found them.”
“So, that is Jacie, right?”
“Yeah.”
“From Afghanistan. The reporter. Who played basketball. What happened between you two?”
“Nothing. We just . . . we were friends.”
“Not even. You talked about her when we were trapped in the cave, if I remember correctly.”
He’d said a lot of stupid things in that cave. Even a prayer.
He hoped Ham didn’t remember that.
“Maybe that’s why God was calling you to the mountain. Because you and Jacie aren’t done yet.”
Orion stared at him. “You know, God isn’t in charge of everything that happens.”
“Uh, yes he is.”
Orion sighed. “And now you’re only making me mad again.”
Ham frowned.
“Really? Should we talk about Nickles and Dirk? Thorne and Royal? How about your man McCord? Or you—you lost your career. If God was in charge of all that, then maybe I’m angry at the wrong people.”
“See, that’s the thing. We get angry with God when he doesn’t do things our way. But I know God had a new season for me.”
“Says the man who spent twelve years on the Teams, who was headed for Master Chief.”
Ham reached for his hat. “It’s all about your perspective. I can choose to be angry about the way the Navy treated me, or I can see it all from a bigger place. It’s like this mountain. We’re down here, on the face. We can’t see the routes, the crevasses, even the avalanches that might take us out. But God can, and we can trust him.”
“Like the CIA trusted the informant who blew our lives up?”
“Not even close.”
“Yeah, well, here’s the deal. I’ll be willing to trust God if he sends me answers. If he lets me find Royal. And if he brings a little justice to the men who killed my brothers. When he does that, then we’ll talk about trusting God.” He made for the door.
“That’s not what you prayed in the cave.”
He stilled, turned back to Ham. Frowned.
“‘God, please help us find a way out.’”
“I was pretty focused on the moment.”
“And so is God. But he also sees the big picture. That’s why we have to live by faith, not just by sight. Because he is always working on our behalf, in the moment, even if we can’t see it.”
“Yeah, like I really needed a new knee. So glad God took care of that for me.”
Ham’s mouth tightened. “I took my troubles to the Lord, I cried out to him and he answered my prayer.”
“I couldn’t walk!”
“And now you can.”
Orion shook his head.
“I’m just saying that God is on our side. And we can trust him for the big—and small—details.”
“Okay, great. Maybe God could help me figure out why it bugs me so much that Jenny Calhoun didn’t remember me.”
“Oh, she remembered you. The bigger question is, why did she deny it?”
Ham’s question brought Orion up. He stared at him.
Unzipped the tent.
Jake stood at the stove, ladling out the soup into sierra cups. He took two and went over to the ladies’ tent. Unzipped it and climbed inside.
Orion stood there, not sure what to do. The smell of the soup—rehydrated peas, carrots, chicken broth, and of course Spam—stirred the air. His stomach clenched with hunger.