Frank surveyed the remote outpost of Thorong-Phedi with its small collection of basic wood-framed shacks and crude stone buildings. Before him, the brown, moonscaped hills bore the last of the hardy grasses they’d been plodding beside since early morning. He buried his hands in his jacket pockets and descended the gritty trail that had widened over the last fifteen minutes. Anne, Sarah, and Penny strode three abreast ahead of him, and some way ahead of them were Matt and Jack.
On the surrounding hills, tahr goats grazed, and in the swirling currents high above, Himalayan snowcock and gorak crows arced and spun. A thin trace of snow had been spritzing his face for the last twenty minutes. It was going to be a cold, uncomfortable night. He glanced at his watch. It was a little after 1:00 p.
