Page 8 of Stalkers Anonymous

“Afghanistan,” Cole replies simply. “Two tours. You learn fast, or people die.”

The matter-of-fact statement explains why he’s handling this so well, yet I find a small piece of me hurting for the pain he must have witnessed—and likely experienced—himself.

“You’re doing great, Jason,” I tell him, watching his pupils as he stares at the sky, fighting to stay awake. “I know it hurts, but try to stay as still as possible.”

Jason gives me a tight smile, sweat beading on his forehead. I’m concerned about shock setting in. Cole seems to read my thoughts, removing a lightweight emergency blanket from his pack and carefully draping it over Jason’s torso.

“To keep him warm,” Cole says quietly.

He doesn’t have to tell me why. I already know it’s because his blood pressure is likely dropping and he’s becoming less stable with every passing minute. We have no idea what’s going on beneath his skin. At the very least, he’s got cracked ribs and a very broken leg. If it’s as bad as I think it is, he likely has internal bleeding.

The next ten minutes pass in a routine of constant vital checks, reassurances to Jason, and preparations for the rescue team’s arrival. In the brief lulls, I catch Cole observing not just Jason but everything around us—the condition of the climbing equipment, the rapidly expanding crowd below, the two influencers above still trying to figure out how to physically remove themselves from the top of a mountain. His gaze is analytical but not cold. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s not just taking in details, but trying to memorize them.

We hear the rescue helicopter approach, and we wait patiently while they make their way to us. Cole quickly briefs them on the situation, using precise terminology that confirms his medical background.

Cole and I move to the side, easing pressure on the ledge while the paramedics move in. They carefully transfer Jason to a rescue basket designed for evacuation from this type of terrain. One of them, a woman I recognize from hospital drop-offs, gives me an appreciative nod.

“Nice work with the splint,” she says. “You work at Fort Collins?”

“ER doc,” I confirm, giving her a small smile. “Second-year resident.”

“I thought I recognized you. We’ve got him from here. You guys need help getting down?”

Cole and I exchange glances, silently confirming what I already know. “We’re good,” Cole answers for both of us.

As the rescue team begins the careful process of lowering Jason to where they can transfer him to an actual stretcher, Cole and I gather our scattered supplies. The adrenaline that carried me through the emergency is beginning to wear off, leaving the familiar post-crisis exhaustion in its wake.

“You were amazing,” Cole says, watching me through bright eyes as we prepare to descend.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I reply, stuffing the remnants of my first aid kit back into my pack.

When I rise to my feet and sling my bag onto my back, my foot slips on a loose rock, and my entire body comes crashing down where Jason landed. Before the pain of my fall can fully register, the rock shifts below me, letting out a thunderous crack as it splits in two.

I sense more than see half the surface below me drop away. My body starts to slide in the same direction—toward open air—when a strong arm wraps around my torso, knocking the wind out of my lungs…but saving me.

I turn as quickly as I can, clawing to hold onto him as tightly as he’s got me. Cole’s scent envelops me as he pulls me into his hard chest. I hear the rock hit the ground below, exploding into countless pieces.

That would have been me.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the stillness of the moment while my pounding heart slams a frantic rhythm. Cole’s grip around me is so firm I’m sure he can feel each of my heartbeats reverberate through his own chest.

As the sting of such a sudden rise in adrenaline dissipates, I rest my focus on the place where Cole’s body presses to mine. I try to feel past my own racing heartbeat to his. And there it is—strong and steady, maybe a little faster than usual, but no match for my rapid staccato.

Maybe rescuing strangers from certain death is just a typical part of his day.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around me.

“Are you okay up there?” someone shouts from the ground.

I make to answer, but all that comes out is a little choking sound. How embarrassing. But Cole doesn’t seem fazed by my sudden inability to speak. He calls down, “All clear!” in a rumbling baritone that vibrates through my breastbone.

After a few more seconds, reality sets in…and I realize how awkward this is.

I don’t know this man, and he doesn’t know me, and we’re holding onto each other like we’re about to lose the rappelling gear and get wild in the wild while dozens of strangers watch from below.

“Thank you,” I smile, forcing myself to pull back. I don’t—can’t—quite meet his eyes.

Cole gently releases me once I’ve found my balance on the rock face. “Nothing to thank me for. It would have been a damn shame to see you broken and bleeding after you just collected all those good karma points saving Jason.”