23
Wake to a scream, my body on fire, sweat-soaked.
Anjali raises up, eyes wide.
“Chase, am I dreaming?”
I sit up. Listen.
Another shriek.
“Help! Somebody please! Help!” The
voice is muffled and distant. But I hear it plain enough.
“You’re not dreaming. It’s Rudy.”
Gazing at my watch. “Holy Christ. It’s
five in the morning. We’ve slept all night.”
Gathering my gear, I exit the tent,
take a quick look around for Rudy. He’s nowhere to be seen. I’m holding my
automatic, the sweat from my palm coating the grip. To my left, the Sherpas are
still asleep.
“Hey!” I bark. “Up, up!”
Both of them wake, raise themselves
from the ground.
“Ocha,” they recite instinctually.
“Ocha.”
Behind me, Anjali emerges from the
tent.
“Stay here,” I say. Then, to the
Sherpas, “You come with me.
