The Search
Leif’s radio buzzes. He snaps it from the waistband of his shorts without slowing his pace, answering as he jogs.
It’s Knut from the rescue base. “It’s a mess over at Hyvik rock,” he says without preamble. “The helicopter is still out. I’ve sent a second team your way by road, but the Hyvik Tunnel is shut. Damn repair work. Won’t reach your lodge for another hour.”
Leif feels the adrenaline rip harder. He’s out here on his own.
“Radio in when you get eyes on the hiker,” Knut says.
“Will do,” Leif confirms. Leif’s father worked alongside Knut plenty during the years he volunteered as a mountain rescue worker.
His father used to say of Knut that he wasn’t the sort of man you’d share your problems with over a beer—rather the sort you’d want at your side in a tough spot on a rescue mission: decisive, unemotional, prepared to make tough calls fast.
“What are the weather conditions like out there?” Knut asks.
“Low cloud,” Leif answers, still jogging as he talks.
“Visibility moderate. If the wind drops, we could be in for fog.” That would be a problem.
Without a GPS position he’d have almost no chance of locating the hiker.
He’s been out on the mountain when the fog rolls in, and you’re lucky if you can see your own hand in front of your face.
Scary as hell. You take a step in the wrong direction, and you go off the edge.
The weather up here this morning, though, has been mostly clear—or that’s how it looked from the lodge. No fog to cause a misstep or accident. He doesn’t understand it.
He’s beginning to pant, but he works to keep his breath as steady as he can.
Knut says, “Radio in with a location when you find her. If she’s a long way down, no hero stuff. You wait for the team, okay?”
“Course,” he agrees, but Leif knows that every moment out here counts. And that the team will be several hours behind him. If it’s safe and he can get to her, he will.