On a Dark Wing

by Jordan Dane

  Now with the sun only a memory, winds had picked up to a body-numbing beating and the temperature had plummeted. Nate hunched his shoulders against the cold as he chopped his shovel through the hard-packed snow underneath. A newfound sense of urgency gripped him.

  A storm was coming.

  His team made camp, set up tents, but that wouldn’t be enough. With hurricane-force winds and plunging temperatures expected, his dad ordered them to build fortified snow walls as fast as they could, to shelter each tent from the bitter cold windstorm.

  With the sun down, Nate only had a headlamp to shed light on his work. When a large block of snow broke free, he grabbed it with gloved hands, lifted it to his chest and staggered to a spot he dug out around the tent he’d share with Josh.

  His feet were numb with cold, but he still sweated under his gear. He was tired, but he felt good. His training had paid off. Through the blowing snow, he peered over the wall he’d finished, looking for his father who’d check on their progress soon. When he didn’t see him, he turned back toward Josh. His friend was on his knees, shoving a block into place on his side.

  “How’re you doing?” he yelled. “You about done?”

  With Josh not answering, that forced Nate to fight the blistering winds to get closer. He dropped to his knees next to his buddy.

  “You okay?”

  Breathing hard, Josh tossed his shovel on the snow. It took him a long moment to look up. “W-what?”

  “I said, are you okay?” Nate yelled again.

  “G-got a headache…th—that’s all.” Josh’s shoulders slumped as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked beat, but after Nate saw what Josh had done with his side of the barrier, he had to say something.

  “Dad said to make the wall three blocks high, not two.”

  “He did?” Josh looked confused. “Guess I…forgot. Sorry, man.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  When Josh didn’t answer fast enough, Nate reached for his arm and his friend waved him off.

  “I’m fine. I can do this.”

  Nate knew better. At his pace, Josh would never finish his side of the snow wall before the storm got worse. The clock was ticking. If his father noticed Josh not carrying his weight, he’d play it safe and cut him from the team as soon as he could leave him behind, in good hands. Nate knew that meant he’d stay back, too. Even if that made his dad’s expedition another man short, he wouldn’t leave Josh.

  “I know you can handle this, but I need somethin’ hot to drink.” Nate leaned closer. “I’ll finish this. You get the stove goin’ inside. Make us something.”

  After Josh nodded, he got to his feet and stumbled toward the tent. High winds made it hard to move, but Josh looked unsteady on his feet. At this altitude, his exhaustion showed, especially after they’d backtracked a steeper climb and double carried supplies from their last camp. But what lay ahead would be even more demanding.

  The team would soon face a critical 90-degree turn. During whiteout conditions, Nate knew it would be too dangerous to attempt. With “Windy Corner” beyond that, it would be one of the most treacherous parts of the West Buttress trail. Both he and Josh had to bring their A game if they wanted to get past the steep icy slopes and make it through the threat of avalanches, rock falls and constant high winds.

  But for now, they were stuck in their tents until the fierce storm blew over. No telling how long that could be. From what his dad told them earlier, other teams were trapped above them at the next camp. No one was going anywhere. With winds whipping over the top of their ice-crusted tent, they’d sleep with ice axes and boots ready, in case their tent imploded. The constant howling would make it hard to sleep.

  Things were about to get brutal.

  While Nate prepared to deal with what would come, he worried about Josh. Something felt off with him. Was he more scared than he let on or had something else happened?

  Nate had to find out…and soon.

  Forty minutes later

  By the time he’d finished the snow wall, Nate crawled into the tent exhausted. His fingers were numb and he needed to hydrate. When he got inside and zipped the tent closed, he turned to find Josh asleep. His friend had left a lamp burning and had burrowed into his sleeping bag for the night.

  “Oh, man.” Nate shook his head and got to work on something to eat. Like Josh, he felt too tired to make the effort, but ignoring fuel for his body wasn’t the answer. He had to stay strong and it would be important to take off his sweaty gear and dry it before morning. Sleeping in it, like Josh had done, would only make him miserable.

  “You two okay in there?” his father yelled over the blowing winds and unzipped the tent opening to poke his head inside.

  “Yeah, we’re good.” Nate forced a smile. “How’s everyone else?”

  “Our Chicago stockbroker is a little antsy with this weather, but everyone is holding up fine.” After he nudged his head toward Josh, his father asked, “Sleeping beauty do okay today?”

  “Yeah.” It surprised Nate how fast he answered. “Thought the wind would keep him up, but I guess not.”

  “Some guys are like that. They can sleep through an avalanche.” His dad grinned. “You guys did a good job on your snow wall.”

  “Thanks.”

  “According to the latest weather report, winds are at 60 miles an hour, but expected to get worse. Stay put. Don’t go past the snow wall without roping up, except to use the latrine. In a whiteout, a guy could get real lost.”

  “Yeah, got it. Thanks, Dad.”

  His father turned to leave, but stopped. When Nate looked up, his dad crawled toward him and kissed him on the forehead, a move that surprised him.

  “Wow.” Nate smiled. “You tuckin’ everyone in like that?”

  “Only the ones I raised.” His father winked. “I’m proud of you, son. Hang in there. The storm will blow over soon. Promise.”

  “G’night, Dad.”

  After his father left the tent, Nate took off his gloves and stuffed them against his chest, under his long underwear, so they’d dry out overnight and not freeze solid. He cranked up the stove to boil water, but while he rummaged through his pasta stash for something to eat, he noticed a small glimmer that made him smile. Zoey’s lucky bracelet dangled from his wrist, the one she’d made especially for him. Nate held the small clover charm in his fingers. He didn’t consider himself superstitious, but maybe Zoey would bring him luck.

  With a quick glance at his friend, he noticed that Josh was fast asleep. His buddy hadn’t eaten and looked as if he’d be down for the count until morning. Whatever bugged him would have to wait until they could talk. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, Josh would be better. Nate prayed that’s all it would take.

  Abbey

  The next morning Near Healy, Alaska

  “Your mom’s birthday is this weekend,” Dad said as we finished cleaning up the kitchen. “Is there anything special you’d like to do?”

  He always asked. The first two years after the accident, I racked my brain trying to make our memorial for Mom good for him, but somewhere I stopped making an effort. I thought he hadn’t noticed, until I shook my head this time without saying a word.

  “I’m not doing this for me, you know. I thought you would appreciate…”

  “Appreciate what, Dad? Why am I the one who needs to remember?” My question came out harsher than I expected, but once I blurted it out, I couldn’t stop.

  “Mom’s dead…” Because of me, I wanted to say. I stopped and clenched my jaw, fighting back the flood of emotions that always came when I thought of her. “She’s gone, okay? At some point, we’re both gonna have to…let her go. Don’t tell me this is all for me.”

  Dad stared at me in shock. When he didn’t say anything, it
felt worse than if he’d yelled at me.

  “I’m…s-sorry.” My voice cracked. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

  I threw down the dish towel I had in my hand and grabbed my jacket off a chair. Without saying another word, I ran for the door and slammed it behind me. Not even the cold mountain air stopped the hot sting of tears. I rushed from the cabin, leaving him behind. He didn’t come after me. I didn’t know which would’ve been worse. Sometimes I needed him to be the parent, to hold me and tell me everything would be okay, but Dad never knew how to do that, not like Mom had.

  The problem was that I didn’t just remember Mom on her birthday. I had her with me every day. I missed her so much. When she died, the love I felt for her didn’t just stop. I couldn’t shove it into a box like the clothes she would never wear again. She was the constant ache in my heart that never went away. My life had become nothing but a hole where my mother had been. I knew Dad needed us to be a family, even without Mom, but I felt lost without her. Dad and I were flying solo. Without her, we never learned how to really connect. Now I kept my distance from him because I had to.

  I’d done this to us. We were both hurting because of me.

  Shrugging into my jacket, I trekked up the trail behind the cabin and headed for the ridge that overlooked the valley. I wiped tears away with my sleeve, but when fresh ones came back, I quit denying that I felt like shit—and deserved to. I mean, why did I get a second chance and Mom didn’t? It wasn’t fair.

  I needed time alone and I had a special place to go, somewhere I hadn’t been in a long time. As I cut through the trees, the sun dappled me with its light, but as I climbed, the trees grew denser and the path became filled with deepening shadows. Ancient root systems dug deep into the soil. After centuries of dropped foliage, the forest floor had become spongy and pliable underfoot. It was quiet and peaceful. Ever since I’d found this path up the mountain, I sensed the presence of the souls who had climbed the trail before me. I don’t know when the thought first struck me, but the trek to the upper ridge felt like a church. My kind of church.

  I headed for a clearing that someone made long ago. It had an old stone fire pit and a view of the whole valley. The last time I remembered a fire burning in that pit, I was with Mom. I had shared my special spot with her. One night we’d made the climb, just the two of us, and roasted marshmallows on sticks.

  I hadn’t been back since. It was too painful.

  But before I got my head wrapped around why I had come today, something weird happened. In the long shadows of the trees, a glimmer caught my eye. It flickered through the tree trunks and its glow warmed my face, but I couldn’t tell where the light came from. Yet even though I had to shield my eyes from the brightness, I couldn’t turn away. I stepped closer. When I saw movement rushing through the trees, I gasped as I looked up and saw it.

  A raven.

  It had drifted through the trees and perched on a limb near me. It hadn’t made a sound except for the quiet flutter of its wings when it landed. The bird didn’t appear to be afraid of me. Its shaggy-throated head cocked to one side and dead black eyes fixed on me. Seeing the bird up close, something primitive skittered across my skin. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I couldn’t move.

  I kept my feet planted, waiting.

  For some reason, as I stared into that raven’s eyes, I felt like the bird had come to me for a reason. On pure instinct, I shut my eyes tight and listened. The cool breeze rustling through the leaves and the chirping of small birds in the distance eventually faded to nothing but white noise before something amazing happened.

  Everything went deathly still, like I’d been sucked into a cocoon, insulated from the rest of the world. With my eyes still closed, memories of my mother swept over me, warm and welcoming like hot cocoa on a chilly day. Her smile, her touch, the way she smelled, all of it rushed back like an old forgotten friend. For the first time in a long while, I actually felt happy.

  It felt as if she was truly with me, even though I couldn’t see her. I heard her humming in the kitchen like she used to and when I raised my chin, her perfume hit me from out of nowhere. Suddenly she was everywhere around me, as if time had rewound and the accident never happened.

  Too bad that feeling didn’t last long.

  Just as a smile tugged at my lips, the bad stuff came in a powerful rush, too, things I had never wanted to feel, or smell, or hear again. In a cruel hoax, the stench of smoke and gasoline filled my nostrils until I could barely breathe. Grinding metal ran chills down my arms, like hearing nails on a chalkboard. When I finally heard the choked whisper of my name, I knew it was Mom—the last time I heard her voice.

  “A-Abbey?”

  I kept my eyes shut, waiting for her to touch me…to hold me. She was really with me. I just knew it, but I was afraid that if I opened my eyes, she’d disappear. That would feel too much like losing her all over again. So I did the only thing I could.

  I prayed for the bad stuff to stop, even though a desperate sliver of me clung to the piece of my mother that I wanted to hold close to my heart. I felt torn. I didn’t want to ever forget her, but if remembering her meant that I’d have to relive the accident, I knew I wasn’t strong enough to go through that again.

  “Please…stop this. I can’t…”

  I thought I had pleaded to the part of me that couldn’t let her go until…

  With an ear-piercing shriek, the purple iridescent raven lifted off the tree branch with ease, becoming a creature of the wind. Massive velvet wings beat in a flurry, caught the air, and defied gravity. Its powerful and explosive exit made me open my eyes with a start. But in doing that, the raven killed the intense connection I had with my dead mother. I watched the bird fly above the valley until it vanished in the blinding light of the sun.

  Something felt very wrong, but now I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop.

  Next morning before dawn On Denali -55 degrees

  Nate cracked his eyes open to an undulating blur of orange. It took him a moment to figure out what he saw. The ceiling to his tent billowed with the escalating winds, a reminder of the storm that still held them hostage on Denali. He felt the cold in the air, but as he listened to the wind, he only wanted to stay put.

  The storm hadn’t let up. If anything, it had gotten worse.

  With the frigid air turning his breaths into vapor, Nate blinked twice and resisted the urge to yawn cold air into his lungs. Covered to his neck by his sleeping bag, he realized he hadn’t moved once he finally shut his eyes. He’d collapsed into an exhausted sleep, but he didn’t feel rested.

  A little more sleep. That’s all he wanted, but his mind wouldn’t quit.

  His brain had flipped to rewind for a reason. Something had awakened him. On Denali, fatigue dulled the senses. Yet he knew how important it was to stay alert, so he listened real hard and let his mind replay what had happened. Since he didn’t hear anyone moving outside, he eventually took a deep breath and shut his eyes again.

  But a steady persistent noise finally got his attention—something felt out of place.

  He turned his head to see the tent flap unzipped and whipping in the wind. That noise alone would have gotten him up, but what he saw next got his blood pumping. He grappled with his sleeping bag, yanking at the zipper until he shoved free of it to crawl on all fours across the tent.

  Josh’s sleeping bag was empty.

  The only good thing was that the inside still felt warm. Josh couldn’t have been gone long. Normally he wouldn’t have been concerned. After all, a guy had to hit the camp latrine when nature called. But the way Josh had been acting, Nate got a bad feeling. After he put on his boots and shrugged into his parka, he grabbed a flashlight and gloves and crawled from the tent into the blizzard. Squinting in the direction of the camp latrine, he stood and faced the heavy winds, searching for signs of
Josh. When Nate came up empty, he peered beyond the wall of ice they’d built.

  In the distance, a slow moving shadow grabbed his attention. Someone was out there. Nate directed his flashlight into the murky gloom, but the beam only caught the heavy swirling drifts of white.

  “Josh! Stop!” He cupped a hand near his mouth and yelled, “Stay where you are. Don’t move!”

  He had no idea if Josh heard him, but the shadow shrouded in blowing snow still moved and drifted farther from camp. In no time, the gale-force winds would cover his tracks. In these conditions, if Josh wandered too far, he might not find his way back. He’d be lost in the blizzard without a tie line, alone in a minefield of virtual death traps. Countless crevasses were hidden under the snow. If Josh broke through the ice, fresh snow would cover where he’d fallen.

  Nate had no choice. If he didn’t move fast—or if he took time to get help from his dad—Josh could die. He looked over his shoulder toward the other tents and yelled.

  “Josh is missing. I’ve got to help him. Tell my dad.”

  Nate didn’t have time to wait for an answer. He strapped on a digital tracking beacon after he’d set it to transmit a standard signal and grabbed his climbing harness and ice ax before he vaulted over the snow wall, heading after Josh.

  His best friend was in trouble.

  Serious trouble.

  Chapter 5

  On Denali at dawn -55 degrees

  Bob Holden woke with a jolt to the sounds of yelling outside. In seconds, one of his expedition team members, Mike Childers, had crawled into his tent.

  “It’s your son. He’s gone. So’s his friend, Josh.”

  Hearing about Nate, Bob fought to stay calm. But when he saw an edge of panic distorting the weathered face of his second-in-command, he grew more worried. Childers was an experienced climber and not prone to overreacting.