by Sarah Morgan
‘You just need to give yourself a moment to get used to it,’ Juliet urged, her tone soothing, her eyes kind and reassuring. ‘You’re sick, Neil. You’ve got cerebral oedema and we need to get you off this mountain.’
He hesitated and then took the mask again and covered his mouth and nose.
Juliet found that she was holding her own breath. She knew how much he needed the oxygen. His brain was gradually deteriorating. If he got any worse they wouldn’t be able to get him down, and up here there was no rescue service.
Finally they had Neil breathing oxygen. He was incapable of dressing himself so they did that, too, and then dressed themselves and secured their climbing harnesses, put on their helmets, complete with head torches, and fastened their crampons. Only then did they step into the darkness of the night, onto the lethal ice.
‘It’s all downhill from here.’ Billy tried to make a joke but Juliet gave a shiver.
‘The one good thing about climbing in the dark is that you can’t see the gradient,’ she muttered as she clipped herself onto the fixed rope and felt her crampons bite hard into the ice.
Neil was sandwiched between Finn and Billy, virtually carried down by the combined efforts of the two men.
Juliet trudged slowly behind, forcing her drowsy, foggy brain awake. One mistake—just one mistake here—and she’d slide five thousand feet down the icy Lohtse face and into a bottomless crevasse. The thought was enough to hone her concentration.
Their flashlights lit the blue ice as they moved slowly downwards, one step and then another. They paused to change Neil’s oxygen bottle and have a drink and then finally, what seemed like hours later, they saw lights ahead of them and two Sherpas came to help them.
They had reached Camp II.
‘It isn’t low enough.’ Lying in the tent, Finn looked drawn and tired. ‘We need to get him lower. If we can take him down to Camp I tonight, he stands a chance of recovery.’
Juliet coughed and withdrew another injection of dexamethasone, which she pushed into Neil’s thigh, straight through his down suit.
The injection seemed to revive him and he removed the oxygen mask and started talking.
‘Thanks, guys.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘My head’s feeling clearer.’
‘Is it worth making him walk in a straight line?’ Billy asked, but Juliet shook her head.
‘You’re right that we do the tandem gait test as a test for HACE, but it can persist for several days after descent so there isn’t any point in doing that now. He was staggering and uncoordinated at Camp III so we’re certain of our diagnosis.’
‘Keep the oxygen on,’ Finn instructed, as they all drank as much fluid as they could. He turned to Juliet. ‘You could stay here.’
She knew that he was giving her the chance to rest but she also knew that Neil’s medical condition was precarious and that if he deteriorated, Finn would need her help.
‘I’m fine. I can make it to Camp I.’ She was actually feeling stronger and wondered whether it was just the effect of being at a lower altitude. They were still high, of course, but there was proportionally more oxygen in the atmosphere than there had been up at Camp III.
They continued down the slope and arrived at Camp I as dawn was breaking.
By now Neil was walking under his own steam and had made a significant recovery.
‘It’s amazing what descent can achieve,’ Finn muttered as he dropped into a tent next to Juliet. ‘Well done, you. You’re amazing.’
She was too exhausted to react to the praise. She just wanted to lie down, close her eyes and never open them again. But she knew that first she had to drink something or she ran the risk of becoming severely dehydrated, and that in turn would increase her susceptibility to altitude sickness. Having had such a close call with Neil, she had no intention of being the next victim.
So she forced herself to sit up and drink the tea handed to her by a smiling Sherpa and then she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax. They were going to rest for a few hours and then tackle the dreaded icefall.
They spent the night at Camp I and then started out in darkness to tackle the icefall before the sun rose.
As Juliet fastened her crampons she reflected on the fact that she would only have to risk her neck on this section of the mountain a few more times.
Whether they decided to drop down into the valley for a few days or not, soon they’d be making the final push towards the summit.
She glanced over her shoulder for a moment, staring upwards at the harsh, unforgiving flanks of the world’s highest mountain.
‘Are you all right?’ Finn was by her side, his gaze searching. ‘You’re thinking of Dan.’
She opened her mouth to deny it and then sighed. He knew her so well, there was no point in lying. ‘I’ve never actually seen it before,’ she confessed. ‘Cerebral oedema. Not like that.’ She glanced towards Neil who was fastening his crampons, his fingers remarkably steady. ‘I keep wondering if that’s what happened to Dan. I was so exhausted up there that if you and Billy hadn’t been there to help, I never would have been able to muster the energy to do anything.’
‘We all do what we can,’ Finn said roughly, ‘and up here, that’s the best you can expect. You don’t climb Everest expecting to be rescued if you get into trouble. You climb it, fully aware of the risks. Dan was aware of those risks, Jules.’
She nodded but felt the tears clog her throat. ‘If you’d been with him—’
‘The weather was bad and they think that the levels of oxygen in the air were even lower than usual,’ Finn said quietly. ‘If I’d been there, the chances are I would have died, too.’
She shook her head. ‘You would have saved him, I know you would.’
He gave a wry smile and brushed her cheek with a gloved hand. ‘I’m not God, Jules.’
Her breath caught as she stared up into his handsome face. At eight years old she’d thought Finn was a god. He’d been tall, strong and calm. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him panic. He had been the perfect foil to her brother’s wild nature. And she couldn’t ever have imagined a man more perfect than Finn.
She frowned slightly, confused by her thoughts.
Finn watched her for a moment and then let his hand drop to his side. ‘You’re tired,’ he said roughly. ‘Let’s get down.’
And he turned and trudged back to the tents to check on Neil, leaving Juliet to follow.
‘I’m doing fine.’ He smiled up at them both. ‘No reason at all why I can’t have a go at the summit in a few days’ time.’
Juliet stared at him. ‘Neil, for goodness’ sake.’
He stood up and tested his crampons. ‘I know I had a problem but it’s gone now. You know as well as I do that people can develop altitude sickness and still go on to climb the mountain. I’m feeling great now. Really strong.’ As if to prove his point, he heaved his pack onto his back and settled it in place.
Juliet was appalled. ‘You’re feeling fine because you’re full of dexamethasone and bottled oxygen and because you’re at a lower altitude,’ she reminded him, unable to believe that he was even considering making an attempt on the summit. What was it about high mountains that tempted people into making reckless decisions? ‘This isn’t the place to play macho he-man, Neil,’ she said gently. ‘If you’re not fit, you can’t go up.’
The smile faded and Neil’s expression was suddenly stubborn. ‘Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? Do you know what this means to me?’
‘Presumably not enough to risk death,’ Juliet said quietly, and Neil glared at her.
‘I know my own body.’
‘You know as well as I do that climbers aren’t always objective.’ Juliet put a hand on his arm. ‘You’ve been affected by altitude before, Neil. You know as well as I do that it’s very likely to happen again.’
‘People with HACE have gone on to the summit of Everest.’
‘True,’ Juliet agreed, ‘but others have
gone on to die. And that isn’t going to happen to you. Not while I’m the doctor on this team.’
‘Problem?’ Billy crawled into their tent and Neil glared at him.
‘She’s saying that I can’t make the summit this season.’
Billy rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘You’re too slow, Neil,’ he said gruffly. ‘There’s no way you’re going to make it to the top like that. You know it, and I know it.’
‘I had HACE, that’s why I was slow, but I’m OK now. A few days breathing the air of Base Camp and I’ll be good as new. I can make it. I can get there.’
‘And what about getting back?’ Juliet’s eyes flashed and pain burned inside her as she thought of her brother. ‘Getting there is only half the trip, Neil. And more climbers die coming down the mountain because they use everything they’ve got to make the summit and they don’t have anything left to get them back down.’
Neil’s shoulders slumped. ‘It’s been my dream for so long…’
Finn put a hand on his shoulder. ‘The mountain isn’t going anywhere.’ His voice was strong and steady. ‘There are other years. Surviving as a climber is about making good decisions that are often difficult. Turning your back on the summit is probably the hardest decision any climber has to make.’
Neil breathed out heavily and all the fight seemed to drain out of him. Then he gave a nod. ‘I know you’re right—but it’s hard…’
Impulsively Juliet put her arms round him and hugged him. ‘Finn’s right. There will be other years.’
She felt incredibly sad as they all finally moved out of Camp I on the final walk down to Base Camp. Everyone seemed preoccupied.
They plodded back down through the icefall, clipping themselves onto the lines and balancing across the ladders.
Finn was in the lead, followed by Neil and several other climbers. The Sherpas were behind them as they all worked their way back down to Base Camp.
The sun rose and Juliet stopped for a moment and sucked air into her starving lungs. No matter how hard she breathed, she still didn’t feel that she was getting enough air.
Anyone who thought climbing Everest was easy had only ever done it from the comfort of their armchair at home, she thought wryly as she contemplated what lay ahead.
Even standing still, her body felt limp with fatigue and her lungs were bursting.
Ahead of her, Finn walked at a steady, even pace, looking as strong and comfortable as ever. He didn’t seem to be struggling at all.
Juliet gave a resigned sigh, reminding herself that he’d always been good at high altitude. Some people were. And they were lucky. Some people just never managed to acclimatise. They were unlucky. She fell somewhere in between the two.
Unable to get herself moving again, she watched as Finn trudged forward across the snow. Suddenly the ice opened up beneath him and he dropped out of sight.
It was as if he’d been swallowed by the mountain.
For a moment Juliet just stared in horror, frozen to the spot and unable to move—unable to believe what had just happened.
And then suddenly she found her voice.
‘Finn! Oh, God, Finn! No, no, no!’ Her heart pounding and her hands sweaty with terror, she dropped to her knees and crawled forward, gasping for breath, staring down into the yawning, deep blue chasm of the crevasse.
Behind her she heard the shouts of other climbers and knew they’d seen what had happened and were moving forward to help.
She stared down, blinded by fear and panic. There was no bottom. It just went down and down…
And then she saw Finn lying on an ice shelf, his body immobile.
‘Finn! Finn!’ She was calling his name and sobbing now, great tearing sobs that made breathing even more difficult. She tugged at the rope, which was still attached to his climbing harness, as if her puny efforts would be enough to miraculously lift him from the edge of oblivion. ‘Get up, get up! Please, wake up, get up. Move! Please, be all right, please. Oh, God, no, don’t do this to me.’
He didn’t stir and she felt hysteria rise inside her, a swirl of frantic, desperate emotion that she’d never encountered before.
For the first time in her life she knew real, mind-numbing fear.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. Not Finn.
‘Juliet.’ Billy was behind her, a firm hand on her shoulder, pulling her back from the edge. ‘You have to move out of the way.’
‘No!’ She shrugged him off as tears flowed down her cheeks and she gave way to great gulping sobs. ‘I won’t leave him. I’m going down there. I’m a doctor. I can do something.’ She scrabbled frantically at the rope and two Sherpas moved forward and gently pulled her away from the edge.
She struggled and fought but she was weakened by the lack of oxygen and the physical exertion of the past few days and she collapsed in a heap on the snow, overcome with grief.
‘Juliet!’ Billy frowned at her with a lack of comprehension. ‘What the hell is the matter with you? What’s the use of you throwing yourself down there after him? We need to work this out carefully or there’ll be more than Finn in trouble. I’ve never seen you like this before. You never panic.’
Well, she was panicking now.
‘We need to get him out.’ One of the Sherpas was leaning over the edge and jerking on the rope. ‘This isn’t going to hold.’
Juliet closed her eyes, no longer able to look. They were going to retrieve Finn’s body and she didn’t want to be there to see it. And her own body seemed to have given up. Movement seemed pointless. She just wanted to sit on the icy slope and wait for the mountain to swallow her, too.
She felt empty and drained.
In the background she heard a series of shouts and dimly sensed a sudden flurry of activity but she still didn’t move, her body shivering despite the increasing heat of the sun.
Endless time passed and she was dimly aware of people shouting instructions and lowering ropes. She knew she ought to be helping but she felt limp and lifeless and totally lacking in motivation. There was no way she could help them bring Finn’s body out of that crevasse. It was too much to ask.
Her eyes blurred with tears and she glanced up, wondering what was taking them so long.
Then she saw Finn’s ice axe come over the lip of the crevasse, the top of his helmet appeared and then his broad shoulders as he pulled himself out.
Juliet stared, her emotions suspended, her breath trapped in her throat.
Finn lay for a moment on the snow, heaving in gulps of air, and then he struggled to his feet. ‘Thanks, guys.’ He gave a rueful smile and grimaced as he moved one shoulder gingerly, testing for damage. ‘That was a close one.’
Billy slapped him on the back, relief evident in his face. ‘You gave us all heart failure, man.’
‘Just checking you were concentrating,’ Finn drawled, his eyes drifting to Juliet who was still sitting in the snow, shaking. ‘Jules? You look grim. What happened to you?’
Billy glanced between them, a sudden look of speculation on his face. ‘I think you happened to her,’ he said in a mild tone. ‘You gave our good doctor the fright of her life. Maybe she was afraid you’d test her first-aid skills and she’d be left wanting.’
‘Maybe.’ Finn’s gaze was fixed on Juliet, who still couldn’t believe that he wasn’t lying dead in the crevasse.
He was standing in front of her. Alive. And she just wanted to sob and sob with pure, undiluted relief.
‘So…’ Billy glanced towards the Sherpas, who were checking rope and using ice screws to secure a ladder, which was looking alarmingly precarious. ‘Are you ready to go on down or do you want to rest here for a bit?’
Finn raised an eyebrow and glanced around him. ‘Having dodged the jaws of death once here, I don’t think it’s a great idea to linger. Let’s take our rest down at Base Camp. Juliet?’
She just looked at him, feeling too drained to move. ‘I—I’m fine,’ she croaked. ‘Be there in a minute. You carry on.’
She need
ed a few moments to get herself together.
To recover from the shock of seeing Finn vanish into a crevasse.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t realise he’d crouched down beside her until she heard his rough male voice.
‘Jules.’ He spoke quietly, even though the other climbers and Sherpas were already moving out. ‘Sweetheart, look at me.’
She was relieved she was wearing ice-goggles. At least they concealed the fact that she’d been crying.
She felt such a fool.
‘I’m sorry I gave you a fright.’ He slipped a gloved hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, his gaze suddenly speculative. ‘Or maybe I’m not.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well, it’s certainly been interesting, watching your reaction. I thought you didn’t care about me.’
She jerked her chin away from his hand and lumbered to her feet, no easy feat given the quantity of gear she was wearing. Her eyes flashed defensively. ‘You fell into a crevasse, Finn! That’s a pastime designed to give any girl a fright.’
‘Right.’ He stood up, too, his body unnervingly close to hers. ‘So you would have reacted that way if anyone had fallen in?’
She adjusted the pack on her back. ‘Of course I would. So would you. No one wants accidents up here. We’ve had enough trauma with Neil. I just want to get down in one piece, along with everyone else.’
She wished he wouldn’t stand so close. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to hurl herself into his arms and never move again.
It was just the shock, she told herself firmly as she straightened her rucksack.
He was silent for a moment and then nodded. ‘I’m sure the Sherpas would be touched to know that you would have cried and sobbed if they’d had an accident.’
She gave a gasp of embarrassment and glanced over his shoulder, but the others had all moved away, leaving them alone. She gritted her teeth and felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘I didn’t sob.’ He was making it sound like an unusual reaction. He was making it sound as though she—as if she…
Her face drained of colour as the truth finally hit her.
