Mount Mercy

“No,” I told her. “No way.”

“You think you’re going to find her on your own?” she asked. “I know the roads around here. Besides, she might need surgery.”

I glared and took a step towards her. I know how to use my size to intimidate.

But she just stood her ground, determined. She didn’t want to go out there: I could see the fear in her eyes. Being out in the wilds, in this weather... that was as far from her safe, snug OR as it was possible to get. But she was going to go anyway because—

Because she didn’t want me to go alone.

“Let’s get going,” I grunted.

And we ran.

25

Amy

THE PARKING GARAGE was almost empty. I ran towards my car while trying to do up the zipper on the huge paramedic’s parka I’d found in a closet. Skidding to a stop, I blipped the lock and—

“You can’t be serious,” said Corrigan behind me. “You live in the mountains of Colorado and that’s your car?”

I blinked, hotly embarrassed and angry at the same time. “What? What’s wrong with it?” My car is a little electric thing, just big enough for two (as long as your shoulders aren’t too wide). It’s small, quiet, and efficient: the planet doesn’t even know it’s there.

“It’s very you,” said Corrigan. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to his car, a big red pickup with a light bar on top and huge chunky tires. You didn’t get in, you climbed in. The engine came to life with an angry, chest-thumping roar and we tore out of the parking garage already pushing forty.

Some of the roads near the hospital had now been plowed but as we reached the edge of town, the pavement disappeared beneath a hard, packed-down crust of snow as slippery as ice.

As we turned into a bend, the hiss of the tires on the snow suddenly disappeared and the world went utterly silent. Corrigan cursed and turned the wheel... but nothing happened. Instead of turning, we slid towards the edge of the road, the headlights catching a wall as it loomed up to meet us. I grabbed a grab handle and closed my eyes—

The tire noise returned as they finally found grip. We swung around, fishtailed, and then straightened out. Corrigan let out a sigh of relief and slowed the pace...but only a little. We couldn’t go slowly or we’d never reach Sophie in time.

We skidded another three times on our way to the hills. I spent the journey grimly clinging to my grab handle, wondering what the hell I was doing. Even paramedics wouldn’t be out in snow like this: this was a job for specially-trained rescue teams, not ER doctors. Certainly not a surgeon.

But when Corrigan had been planning to go on his own, all I could think about was that moment when he’d faced off against Colt. Part of him had wanted a fight. Had longed for it, even. And I put that together with all the dangerous places he kept going and….

There was no way I was letting him go into danger on his own. However much this scared me, losing him scared me more.

The snow deepened and thickened as we climbed up into the hills, coming up over the top of the wheels. Eventually, on a narrow track that cut into the forest, the wheels began to spin. Corrigan pulled over. We’d have to go the rest of the way on foot.

26

Dominic

BACK AT THE HOSPITAL, we’d worked out a plan. We’d reach Sophie and get her out while Krista got hold of a local man with a snowplow and got him to clear the road along the bottom of the hills, all the way back to the hospital. We’d have to carry Sophie down to the road and meet them, and they’d then take her back to the ER. It was a mile from where we were now to the crash, then maybe another mile to the road.

That hadn’t sounded so bad, back in the warm. But as soon as I opened my door and the cold flooded in, everything was different. I’d never felt cold like it: the temperature was so low, it was actually painful just moving your exposed hand or face through it. And when I stepped down, the snow was up above my knees. It was worse for Beckett: it was high up her thighs. We were both wearing thick parkas but they did nothing to protect our lower halves. Moving through the snow was like wading through an ice bath. Both of us shuddered. Jesus!

I grabbed the bag and we started to move, working our way uphill through the trees. The sun was sinking rapidly, now, throwing out one last blast of orange fire that was carved by the tree trunks into golden wedges atop the snow. Despite the fierce cold, it was beautiful. I saw Beckett gazing around her in wonder. I got the feeling she’d never been out in the wilds in the snow, despite living here. In fact, I got the feeling she’d never been out in the wilds at all. She’d missed out on all this, huddled in her OR.