Page 32 of Run Wild Omega

“Tess,” I gasp out, my own voice sounding like it’s coming through a tunnel. “Move.”

I force myself up onto my elbows, bile rising in my throat. I try to move my left leg.

Fire. I scream, the sound tearing from my throat and swallowed instantly by the storm.

I look down. My lower leg is twisted at an angle that makes my stomach heave. The tibia is shattered, the bone pushing against the skin, threatening to break through.

“No, no, no.”

Panic, cold and suffocating, tries to claw its way up my throat. I fight it down. I’m a guide. I’m trained for this. I know the protocol.

Radio.

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely work the clasp. I fumble with the unit on my belt, my numb fingers slipping on the plastic.

I rip it free and press the transmit button.

“This is Tess Hartwell,” I say, my voice thin, reedy. “Mayday. I’ve fallen on North Ridge. I’m in a crevice near the second pass. Leg injury. Requesting immediate evac.”

Static.

My heart hammers. I press the button again, harder. “Repeat. This is Tess Hartwell. North Ridge. Leg broken. Please.”

Static.

I look at the device. The screen is cracked, the casing shattered from the fall. The little red light is dead.

“No,” I sob, smashing the button with my thumb. “Come on. Work.”

Nothing but the hiss of white noise.

I’m alone.

I slump back against the icy wall of the crevice. The wind is howling above me, dumping snow into the hole. It’s already covering my legs, piling up around my waist.

I need to stay warm.

I try to wrestle my pack off my shoulders, but every movement sends fresh waves of agony through my leg. I scream again, tears freezing on my cheeks instantly. I finally get the pack off and drag it in front of me, but my coordination is shot. I can’t unzip the main compartment to get to the emergency bivy.

The cold is seeping in now. It’s not just outside; it’s inside me. It feels like liquid ice is being pumped into my veins. The shivering starts violently, shaking my entire frame.

I try the radio one last time, screaming into the static. My phone won’t turn on either. It must have been damaged in the fall.

“Help me! Wyatt! Somebody!”

Silence answers.

My vision is blurring. The edges of my sight are turning gray, narrowing down to a tunnel. I can’t feel my toes anymore. The pain in my leg is changing, turning into a dull, distant throb that scares me more than the sharpness did.

This is bad. This is really bad.

I think about the apartment I just left. The sage green walls. The quiet I hated so much. I would give anything to be back there right now, bored and safe.

I think about Wyatt’s face this morning. I wanted to see you.

If I die here, he’ll be the one to find me. He’ll be the one to carry my body down.

The thought breaks something inside me.