Buried. Elizabeth Goddard

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      Cade stiffened. Not another one. He glanced at Isaiah. “Dead Falls Canyon. We can get there in time.”

      His pulse ratcheted up.

      Maybe today he could make a difference.

      Isaiah grinned his agreement and steered the helicopter east. First responders rarely made it in time to dig someone out of an avalanche. Cade and Isaiah were already in the air, near the avalanche.

      They could serve as the immediate action team.

      While Isaiah flew them over the harsh winter terrain of the backcountry, Cade communicated their plans, even as he wondered how and why someone would be in the remote area, especially after last night’s storm.

      The call had come in three minutes ago. Cade set his stopwatch to track the critical first fifteen minutes. They only had twelve left, if the witness had made the call immediately. Cade went over a list in his head, glad they always carried equipment in the helicopter for such an occasion. Probe. Shovel. And they each wore a transceiver at all times, in case the unthinkable happened and the helicopter crashed. There was also bivouac gear in the event they were stranded on the mountain.

      Maybe today would be the day he could save a life instead of recover a body.

      Eight minutes.

      Cade tensed, praying that the area would be stable, that he would know where to search. Even if they arrived in time, there were safety issues to consider. They’d need to examine the crown and path for debris, look for ski poles, gloves, goggles—anything that might tell them where to look.

      Right around the ridge, Dead Falls Canyon came into view—a deep chasm, rugged and lethal, in the heart of avalanche country. Cade tensed at the ominous sight. Breath forced from his chest as though he were the victim crushed in the slide.

      Isaiah sucked in air. “A big one.”

      “No kidding.” Cade looked at the crown where the avalanche began, then down over the resulting debris field. “Six, seven hundred feet wide. Eight hundred long.”

      “Could be ten, twelve feet deep in some places, Cade. What do you want to do?”

      “Get me down there.”

      “You sure it’s safe?”

      Is it ever? But whoever was buried, if they were still alive, would die if he didn’t do something now. He hadn’t been there to save his father that day and he’d never forgiven himself.

      “I’ll take my chances.” Five minutes left on the stopwatch.

      He swallowed. It could take him longer than that to find the victim much less dig them out.

      “Someone’s waving at us down there,” Isaiah said.

      “The witness,” Cade mumbled under his breath when he spotted someone layered in winter wear. He wasn’t digging, but maybe he could give a few more details about where the victims were last seen on the slope.

      “There’s no place to land here,” Isaiah pointed out, hovering the helicopter over the snow. “I’ll need to toe in, touch one ski down while you grab your gear. I’ll find somewhere to land, if possible, and hike over to help you.”

      Cade stared at his friend—a man he’d grown close to over the past three years. “Don’t set her down. Don’t even think about joining me until you assess the avalanche danger.”

      Isaiah didn’t have a degree in glaciology like Cade. Didn’t have the years of training under a mentor like Cade’s father that Cade had.

      Of the two of them, Cade was far better prepared—and it still might not be enough. At thirty-three, he didn’t have near the experience or training he needed. He’d lost his father much too soon.

      “Understood?” Cade stared him down.

      “Aye, aye, captain.” Isaiah saluted him.

      Three minutes.

      Isaiah touched the helicopter down long enough for Cade to grab the trauma kit, gear up with his equipment and step out. The landing zone was tight, and Cade kneeled next to the helicopter, the whop-whop-whop of the rotor blades drowning out all other sounds. He gave Isaiah the thumbs-up and watched the helicopter lift off and away.

      The witness headed in Cade’s direction and, in turn, he hurried toward the man, hoping to get the needed information. In the meantime he turned his beacon from transmit to receive and prayed for a signal.

      Cade wanted to know what the witness was doing out here in the first place when the avalanche danger was considerable, but there was no time. Two lives were in the balance.

      His ski mask hiding everything but his eyes, the man pointed to a place between the trees a few yards away. Not good. “Over there. I think I saw them—a man and a woman—go down, but it’s hard to tell where they ended up.”

      Knowing the range of his beacon, Cade nodded and hurried to where the man pointed, moving down the center of the debris field, listening, looking for that life-saving signal. And then he locked on to that precious sound.

      There was a chance...

      He marked the spot.

       Please, God, let me save this one.

      He’d trained for this moment so many times—learned how to locate a beacon and dig quickly. СКАЧАТЬ