Above All Things by Tanis Rideout

Author:Tanis Rideout [Rideout, Tanis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction / Literary, General Fiction
ISBN: 9780771076374
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Published: 2012-06-19T08:00:00+00:00

THE NORTH COL

23,200 FEET

Sandy crawled out of the tent at Advanced Base Camp in a quick, clumsy manoeuvre that made his head pound against his skull. For days now, any movement had increased its tempo, as if the throbbing was connected to his pulse, thudding harder every time he exerted himself doing something as simple as climbing out of the tent. He stood as still as possible, hoping the ache would subside, and finally felt the pain well up and crest, then break, and ease. Even with the discomfort receding, the world continued to swim around him. Snow came at him almost sideways in fat, heavy flakes. Everything was softened and furred, so different from the storm that had kept them pinned down at Advanced Base Camp almost two weeks ago. Still, a bad day for climbing. It was bitingly cold. Already the tip of his nose stung. He rubbed at it, then tugged at his hat, the pain in his head rising up to meet it, bringing a wave of nausea too. Swallowing the queasiness down, he turned in the direction of what he hoped was the North Col. On a clear day he could see all the way up the ridge, watch the climbers, microscopic figures, moving up or down, for hours. Today, aside from the tent behind him, he could see no recognizable landmarks through the heavy curtain of snow.

Without the anchoring of the tent it would be impossible to tell where he was, impossible to tell in what direction safety lay. Maybe Wilson hadn’t chosen to sit there and die after all. Maybe he couldn’t find his tent only a hundred feet away, through the snow and his own blinding headache. Sandy squinted in the direction he thought George and the others had taken the previous day. The snow had long erased all trace of them.

George hadn’t even had the decency to tell him himself when they’d made the decision. It was Somervell who had climbed into the tent, pulling in a wedge of frigid air with him. Feeling ill, Sandy had bedded down right after dinner, not wanting to move or even think. Somes pulled out his stethoscope and made him sit up. He swallowed against the rising bile. It had to be bile, he hadn’t been able to eat much at dinner.

“God. Not now. Please, Somes.”

“It’s no use if I just check everyone when they’re feeling good, Sandy. But you do look seedy.”

The stethoscope was cold and his heart contracted against the bite of it.

He tried to slow his breathing. His heart. Everything came in thin, shallow gasps. Looking at his watch, Somes murmured something Sandy couldn’t make out.

“Am I not doing well?”

“No, Sandy, you’re doing fine. All of us feel terrible.” He could hear the truth of the statement in Somervell’s voice: it was raw, hoarse, hard to hear over the continual white noise of the mountain. “Can you do these for me?” Somes handed him a sheet of maths problems. He’d seen them before.

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