Chapter 76
I left Maggie in the cabin alone. Told her to lock the door,” Helena said.
Liz’s face was ashen. “Joni’s out on the trail, too.”
Turning to Leif, who had a radio clipped to the front of his pack, Helena said, “You need to radio in. Call for help.”
Leif paused from undoing his harness. “No.”
Helena balked. “Our friends are in danger!”
Erik’s brow dipped. “Leif? Give them the radio.”
“I cannot.”
“This is crazy!” Helena snapped. There was no time for bullshit—they needed to get back to Maggie and Joni. Reaching toward Leif’s pack, she snatched the radio.
“Hey!” Leif lunged for it—but his climbing harness was still attached to the belay and held him back. “Give that to me!” he said, fighting to undo his harness.
Helena knew she needed to act fast. “Liz!” she called. “Run!”
Liz was on her feet in a flash.
“Stop!” Leif yelled after them.
Gripping the radio tightly, Helena raced alongside Liz, her feet pounding the stony ground.
The cabin couldn’t be far. If they could just get inside—lock the door—then they could figure out how to use the radio. Call for help.
Muscles burning, breath ragged, Helena drove herself forward trying to keep pace with Liz. Behind them, she could hear Leif’s footsteps covering the ground at speed. She chanced a backward glance.
He was coming!
“Hurry!” Liz yelled, grabbing Helena by the hand—and pulling her to keep up.
“Stop!” Leif yelled.
Fear ripped through her body, heart pounding wildly.
She could hear the fast tread of his boots. He was gaining on them! She caught the ragged draw of his breath.
Then she felt it: fingers against the collar of her jacket. They scraped—missed.
She took a step, and another, and then his hand reached again, this time gripping tight to the scruff of her jacket, yanking her backward.
She tossed the radio to Liz. “Run!” she yelled.
Liz caught the radio—and continued to run.
Leif looked as if he were going to give chase—but then changed his strategy. In a single movement, he maneuvered his right arm around Helena’s throat and, with his left hand, pulled a knife from his pocket.
Cold terror gripped her. “Liz!”
Liz glanced back and—seeing the scene—stumbled to a stop, her face blanching.
Leif held Helena pinned to him, knife at her throat.
“Give me the radio,” Leif demanded of Liz.
“Don’t!” Helena cried. “Call mountain rescue! Get help.”
“Quiet!” Leif yelled, pressing the knife lightly to her throat so she could feel its cool blade.
Erik crashed forward, reaching them now. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the knife. He yelled something in Norwegian, face tight with shock.
Leif ignored him. “Give me the radio, Liz. Then I’ll let her go.”
Liz stared back, blinking.
“Leif, this isn’t you!” Erik protested, incredulous. “What are you doing? Just let them use the radio.”
Helena could feel the heat of Leif’s body against hers, the weight of muscle and contained energy. “Mountain rescue won’t send help,” Leif said breathlessly, his mouth hot at her ear. “This thing—it is far bigger than you think.”
Erik’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” He pulled off his orange beanie, running an agitated hand over his scalp, before resettling the hat.
Helena sensed a quiver in Leif’s hand as he held the knife to her skin: he was afraid.
Leif said, “You call on that radio and you’ll be put through to Knut—the rescue coordinator. He’s in on it.”
Erik shook his head. “What?”
“Knut’s been working with Vilhelm for years.
They used to move cocaine across the border from Sweden, but land patrols tightened.
So now they use the sea—and the caves. It was only meant to be for a couple of drops—out of season when hikers weren’t on the trail—but now they’re scaling things up.
If you radio in, Knut won’t send a rescue team: he’ll give your location to Vilhelm.
Or the others. I don’t know how far this thing stretches, or who we can trust.”
Helena could still feel the knife at her throat—the blade resting against the delicate gold chain of her horseshoe necklace.
Liz said, “Then I won’t radio Knut. I’ll call someone else.”
“It’s not a satellite phone. It’s a mountain rescue radio. There is no one else.”
Liz glanced at the radio in her shaking hand, uncertain.
Leif shook his head. “You should never have gone into the cave, taken their cocaine!”
“The cave,” Erik said, head snapping up. “Cocaine wasn’t the only thing in there. So was this.” He pulled something from his pocket. Karin’s bracelet glittered as he held it up.
Leif stared at the bracelet, blinking.
Erik must have registered something in his brother’s expression, as he said, “Wait—you already knew?”
“No . . . I . . . well, I . . . ,” Leif stammered.
“You’re lying!” Erik said, lunging toward Leif.
Leif took a small step back, dragging Helena with him, the knife pressing sharply against her neck.
Liz was glancing warily between the brothers, reading the escalating tension. Perhaps to keep Leif talking, she addressed him, saying, “We’re the ones who found Karin’s bracelet in the cave. Did she know about the cocaine, too?”
“Yes. Karin found the cocaine,” he said, voice hoarse. “Vilhelm realized—and went after her. Followed her up to Blafjell.”
Like us, Helena thought darkly. It must have been Vilhelm they’d seen going into the cave when they were ascending Blafjell.
“He found Karin out by the pinnacle. She’d taken off her pack and was sitting up there.” He paused. “There’s the river below. Vilhelm knew that.”
Erik’s face turned pale. “So her body would not be found.”
Leif nodded slowly.
“Did he push her?”
Helena heard Leif swallow.
Silence. And then: “Ja.”
Erik’s hands shot to the back of his skull. His fingertips turned white with the pressure. He was gripping so hard, the skin stretched around his mountain tattoo, distorting it into broken peaks.
“I’m sorry,” Leif said.
Erik’s head was shaking from side to side, energy burning off him. “But . . . but those German hikers. They reported that they’d seen a woman out here—on the ledge below the pinnacle. They ran to the lodge, told you and others about what they’d seen. And you . . . you went out looking for her.”
“I didn’t know it was Karin. Not when I went out searching.”
“You said you hiked to the pinnacle. Looked at the spot where they described seeing someone. You . . . you said the German hikers must have made a mistake. That it was just tarpaulin trapped between the rocks. That from a distance it could have looked like a woman.” His voice sounded small, vulnerable—a younger brother wanting to believe in his older brother. “That’s what you told me.”
A heavy, anguished silence ripped between them.
Erik was blinking rapidly. “But it wasn’t a mistake, was it? It was Karin!”
Leif dragged in a breath. “Yes. It was Karin. When she fell, her body caught on a ledge. I abseiled down to her—but she was dead, Erik. It was too great a fall to survive.”
Erik was shaking his head in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me . . .”
“I couldn’t . . .”
“Why not?” Erik demanded.
“While I was down there, Knut radioed.”
There was a quake in Leif’s tone and Helena could feel his grip slackening. Keep talking, she thought.
Leif went on. “Knut said that the rescue team were an hour away—and when they arrived, they mustn’t find Karin’s body.”
Erik turned completely still. He was staring at Leif, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”
“They would have killed me. Killed Mum! Come after you!” Leif’s breathing was rapid, shallow.
Helena felt the pressure on her throat release further. His hand holding the knife lowered.
She waited a beat, then took a small, careful step to the side. She glanced back at Leif, but his attention was squarely on Erik. “She was dead, Erik! She was already dead!” He gulped.
“What did you do?” Erik repeated more loudly, taking a step closer.
“I . . . I had no choice . . . ,” Leif said, holding up his palms. He let the knife drop from them, and it fell to the ground.
Erik grabbed Leif by the shoulders. “What did you do?” he screamed into his face. He was shaking Leif now, as if trying to dislodge the answer.
Leif stumbled backward, falling to the ground, Erik landing hard on top of him. “I’m sorry . . .”
“Tell me!” Erik yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the discarded knife in the dirt. He grabbed it, holding it above Leif. “What did you do to Karin!” he said between gritted teeth, seething.
As he lay in the dirt, tears leaked from Leif’s eyes. He didn’t try to fight.
Erik brought the knife blade slowly down, pressing the tip against Leif’s chest, directly above his heart.
Leif dragged in a breath. He held Erik’s gaze as he finally admitted, “I . . . I pushed her body over the edge!”
Teeth bared, Erik let out a wild animal sound of despair and rage.
His hand holding the knife was shaking. “Everyone thought you were the hero, going out there, searching for Karin. But you pushed her! You let everyone blame me for Karin’s disappearance.
The whole village. Everyone thinks I killed her!
” His head was shaking rapidly from side to side. “And you—my own brother—let them!”
Erik raised the knife.
Leif looked at Erik, then the knife, which was hovering above his heart. He swallowed. “Do it,” he said, voice low, trembling.
Erik, mouth twisted into a howl of pain, plunged the knife downward.
Leif’s eyes widened.
Erik slammed the blade deep into the earth, an inch from Leif’s neck.
Slowly, Leif blinked.
No one spoke. The breeze curled around them, puffs of cold mist swirling and dispersing.
Erik dragged himself off his brother. He crawled toward a boulder and sat slumped against it, legs drawn toward his chest.
Leif pushed himself up to sitting. He was gulping in air, his face wet with tears.
“Erik, please . . . I’m so sorry.” His features had turned slack, as if the weight of what he’d done pulled them down, his face crumpling.
“I wanted to tell you . . . It has been killing me. I’m sorry for everything.
” Leif crawled toward Erik, clamping his hands around Erik’s head, pulling him close until their foreheads were touching.
He held him firmly, looking his brother in the eye.
“I’m sorry, Erik. I will make this right. ”
There was nothing but silence from Erik.
Helena glanced at Liz.
They both understood: they needed to get back to the others.
Together, they turned and ran.