8. Axel
Chapter Eight
AXEL
Morning light filters through unfamiliar curtains, painting stripes across the empty space beside me where Nina slept last night. Her scent lingers on the pillow, a peachy floral scent. I run my hand over the sheets, still warm from her body.
She left early for her shift, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slipping away.
“See you at work,” she'd whispered, and I'd only grunted in response, still half-asleep. Now I wish I'd properly woken up, pulled her back into bed, made her late.
I pull on my jeans and make my way to her small kitchen, finding coffee already made, a mug left out for me. There’s a note in her neat, looped handwriting, offering to make me dinner tonight.
Her apartment feels different from my cabin; brighter, with half-unpacked boxes still stacked in corners. Last night, I hadn't paid much attention to the details. Now I look around with curious eyes.
The framed photo of her with her firefighter father. A small collection of romance novels on a shelf. Colorful throw pillows on the couch. What would her stuff look like in my cabin? Her feet in my lap as we watched a movie together, leaning back onto those throw pillows. Her photos on the wall. Her body pressed against mine.
One night. Just one night with her, and already I'm seeing possibilities I haven't let myself consider in years.
It's too soon for these thoughts. Way too soon. And yet...
I need to get ready for shift, not stand around like a teenager daydreaming about a girl. Even if that girl somehow turned my carefully ordered life upside down in the span of a week. I walk to work in a daze.
“Axel!”
Logan's voice cuts through my concentration. I've been reviewing gear requisitions all morning. I find my brother in the conference room, maps spread across the table. His expression is more grim than usual, which usually means trouble.
“What is it?” I close the door behind me.
“Hikers missing on Eagle Ridge. Family of three; father, mother, teenage son. Started a day hike yesterday, and should have been back by nightfall. The woman's sister called it in when they didn't return to their rental cabin.”
I study the map, already calculating routes. “Weather was good yesterday, but that storm rolled in last night. They could have gotten disoriented in the dark, tried to shelter somewhere.”
Logan nods, his fingers absently tracing the web of scar tissue on his neck. “That's my thinking. But with the rainfall we had, I'm worried about washouts on the eastern face. And there's another system moving in this afternoon.”
“Timeline?”
“We've got maybe two hours before the next storm hits. I want two teams. Ryder's prepping the chopper for aerial recon, but visibility's shit with the cloud cover. Ground teams will need to cover both the main trail and check the ravine.”
I scan the terrain, the familiar contours of a mountain I've hiked since childhood. “I'll take the eastern approach. If they tried to descend, that's where they'd hit trouble.”
“That's the most dangerous route,” Logan points out.
“Exactly why I should take it.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods. “Take Hunter with you. Full rappelling gear. I don't like how unstable that face has been since the last storm system.”
“Copy that.”
As I turn to leave, Logan adds, "Axel. Be careful.”
I head to the equipment room, finding Hunter already gearing up. My shaggy-haired, leather jacket-wearing younger brother might be a motorcycle club bad boy, but he's also one of the best climbers in the county.
“Eagle Ridge?” he confirms, tossing me a harness.
“Eastern face. Potential washouts.”
He nods, methodical as he checks his gear. The base is bustling with activity as we prepare for the search. I spot Nina at the dispatch desk, headset on, coordinating with county services. Our eyes meet across the room, and something passes between us.
She presses a button on her console, speaking directly to me through my earpiece. “Channel one is clear for your team.”
“Copy that, dispatch.” I keep my voice professional, though I want to tell her not to worry. That I'll be careful. That I'll come back to her.
“Eastern face is showing heavy precipitation. Be careful out there.”
“Always am…”
Her soft laugh comes through the earpiece. “Liar.”
The eastern face of Eagle Ridge is treacherous in the best conditions. After a night of heavy rain, it's a death trap. Hunter and I pick our way carefully along the ridge, searching for any sign of the missing family.
“SAR Team One to Base,” I radio in. “No visual on subjects yet. Continuing along eastern traverse.”
“Copy that, Team One,” Nina's voice comes through, steady and professional. “Be advised, weather system moving in faster than anticipated. ETA thirty minutes.”
I glance at the sky. The clouds are darker now, heavy with the promise of more rain. We need to find this family fast.
“Team Two reports no sign of subjects on the main trail. They're checking the designated camping areas now.”
“Copy that.”
We continue our search, calling out at regular intervals, listening for any response. The wind picks up, carrying the scent of rain. Time is running out.
“Axel!” Hunter calls from ahead. “I've got something.”
I jog carefully to where he's kneeling, examining the ground. “Prints. Recent. Heading down, not up.”
“Fuck. They were trying to descend. In the dark, with the rain…”
“They wouldn't have seen the washout,” Hunter finishes, frowning.
We follow the track, finding more evidence; another footprint and a torn piece of fabric caught on a bush. All leading toward the steepest part of the face, where the trail narrows to a treacherous ledge above a sixty-foot drop.
“SAR Team One to Base,” I radio. “We've got tracks heading toward the eastern washout. Moving to investigate.”
“Copy, Team One,” Nina responds. “Weather system accelerating. ETA now ten minutes. Ryder reports deteriorating conditions for air support.”
“Understood.”
The ledge narrows as we approach the area most vulnerable to washouts. Recent rainfall has eroded the path, leaving barely a foot of stable ground in places.
“Should we rope up?” Hunter asks, eyeing the crumbling edge.
“Not yet. Let's see if the track continues.”
We move carefully, testing each step before committing our weight. The drop to our right plunges into a ravine where a seasonal creek has swollen to a rushing torrent.
“Axel!” Hunter's voice cuts through the wind. “Look!”
Below us, on a small outcropping about thirty feet down, there’s a splash of color. It’s a red backpack, and beside it, three huddled figures.
“SAR Team One to Base,” I radio immediately. “We've located subjects. Three individuals on outcropping approximately thirty feet below eastern trail, coordinates to follow. All appear to be alive. Preparing for extraction.”
“Copy that,” Nina's voice betrays her relief. “Medical standing by. Air support isn't possible with current conditions.”
“Understood. We'll bring them up manually.”
I turn to Hunter. “I'll rappel down with a harness. You anchor here and prepare the rescue basket. They'll need to come up one at a time.”
He nods, already unpacking the gear. “Take it slow. That ledge doesn't look stable.”
I secure my harness and tie into the rope Hunter anchors to a sturdy tree. The first drops of rain begin to fall as I prepare to descend.
“SAR Team One, be advised,” Nina's voice comes through my earpiece. “Flash flood warning issued for Eagle Creek Basin. You need to move quickly.”
“Copy that, Base. Beginning extraction now.”
I back over the edge, descending carefully toward the stranded family. The father spots me first, waving frantically.
“Search and Rescue!” I call over the rising wind. “Is anyone injured?”
“My son,” the man shouts back. “He fell. He’s broken his leg!”
I reach their ledge, feet touching down carefully on the narrow outcropping. The family is huddled against the rock face.
“I'm Axel with Ember Heart Search and Rescue. We're going to get you out of here, but we need to move fast. Storm's coming in.”
The woman is shivering and the man looks exhausted. The boy's injury is concerning, his face pale and drawn.
“We're going to use a rescue basket,” I explain, securing an additional harness around the boy. “You'll go up first, bud. Then your mother, then your father.”
I radio Hunter to lower the basket while I check the boy's vitals. His pulse is strong, though he's clearly in pain.
“What's your name?” I ask him.
“Jake,” he replies through gritted teeth.
“Well, Jake, you picked a hell of a spot for a view.” That earns me a weak smile. “Your job is to stay absolutely still in the basket, okay? My partner up top is the best we've got. He'll have you up in no time.”
The rescue basket arrives, and I carefully help Jake into it, securing the straps across his body. I radio Hunter. “Haul away, nice and easy.”
The basket begins its ascent, swaying slightly in the strengthening wind. Rain falls more steadily now, making the rock face slick and treacherous. I turn to the parents.
“He'll be fine. Once you're all up, we have a medical team en route.”
A crack of thunder rolls across the mountains, followed by a flash of lightning. The storm is nearly upon us.
“Base to Team One,” Nina's voice is urgent. “Flash flooding reported upstream. You need to evacuate immediately.”
“Copy that, Base. First subject en route to top. Two more to follow.”
The basket disappears over the ledge above. Moments later, Hunter's voice comes through: “Subject secured. Lowering basket for second extraction.”
The rain intensifies, sheets of water now cascading down the rock face. The ledge beneath our feet, already precarious, begins to crumble at the edges. The rescue basket appears through the curtain of rain. I secure the mother inside, giving her a reassuring nod before signaling Hunter to haul up.
Another crack of thunder, closer this time. The mountain seems to vibrate with its force. And then there’s a subtle shift beneath my feet, a trembling in the rock. The ledge is giving way.
I shout into my radio. “Hunter! The ledge is unstable! Get that basket back down now!”
I turn to the father. “We need to move. This section is about to go.”
We edge sideways along the narrowing outcropping, searching for more stable ground. The rain makes everything slick, visibility reduced to a few feet.
The radio crackles. “Lowering basket for final extraction.”
“Negative, Hunter. Ledge is failing. We've relocated ten feet east. Adjust your position.”
Hunter acknowledges, but there’s concern in his voice. The basket appears again, swinging wildly in the wind.
“Go. I'll be right behind you.”
The father hesitates. “Is there room for both of us?”
“It’s fine. I've got my own way up.”
I secure him in the basket and signal Hunter to haul up. As the basket rises, the ledge shifts again, a more pronounced movement this time.
“Base to Team One,” Nina's voice cuts through the noise of the storm. “Flood waters approaching your position. All team members need to evacuate now.”
“Copy that,” I’m searching for a secure spot to re-anchor my rope. “Final subject en route to top. Preparing to ascend.”
I spot a jutting rock formation about fifteen feet to my right. If I can reach it, I might find a stable anchor point. I edge along the narrowing ledge, testing each step before committing. The rain is torrential now, water streaming down the rock face in rivulets. Below, the creek has transformed into a roaring river, brown with mud and debris.
“Third subject secured,” Hunter reports. “Axel, what's your status?”
I’m inching toward the rock formation. “Ledge is extremely unstable.”
I'm almost there when there’s a deep, groaning crack beneath my feet. The section of ledge I'm standing on breaks free, taking me with it.
My training kicks in instantly. I drive my boots into the rock face as I fall, the impact jarring my shoulder. It slows my descent but doesn't stop it. The rope goes taut, then slackens as my original anchor point gives way.
“Axel!” Hunter's voice shouts through the radio.
I scramble for a handhold, anything to stop my slide down the near-vertical face. My fingers find a narrow crack, and I cling to it, boots searching for purchase on the slick rock.
“Team One to Base. I've lost my anchor. Currently holding position approximately forty feet down eastern face.”
“Copy that,” Nina's voice is professional, but there’s fear beneath it. “Team Three is en route to your position. ETA fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes. I glance below me, where the flood waters churn and boil, carrying trees and debris. I might not have fifteen minutes.
“What's your status, Axel?” Nina's voice comes through, steady and grounding.
“Currently enjoying the view,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
Her laugh is strained but real. “Hold on. Help is coming.”
I search for a more secure handhold, finding a small ledge just large enough for my fingertips. Shifting my weight carefully, I test if it will hold.
The rock crumbles under my fingers. I'm falling, sliding down the rock face. No anchor. Nothing to grip. Hunter’s shouting through the radio, Nina's voice calling my name. Then something catches; my harness snagging on a protruding root. It jerks me to an abrupt halt, the impact driving the breath from my lungs.
Below me, the flood waters have risen, now only about twenty feet beneath my position. The current is powerful enough to sweep away anything in its path.
“Axel, Team Three is five minutes out,” Nina’s voice seems far away.
Five minutes. The root stretches further, small popping sounds audible even over the storm.
“Nina…if this doesn't?—”
“Don't,” she cuts me off. “Don't you dare. You're coming back.” The certainty in her voice almost makes me believe it. Almost.
“Listen to me. Last night with you... it was the best night of my life.”
“Axel—”
“I need you to know that. Whatever happens.”
The root gives a little more.
Another crack, louder this time. The root won't hold much longer.
Nina’s voice is strained. “Team Three has visual on your position. They're setting up a recovery line now.”
I’m barely able to make out figures at the top of the cliff through the curtain of rain. A rope appears, snaking down toward me.
“Can you reach it?” Hunter asks.
I stretch my arm out, fingers straining toward the dangling lifeline. It's close, but still out of reach.
“Need it three feet to the left.”
The rope swings, moving closer. I reach again, and this time my fingers brush the end. Just a little more...
The root gives way with a final, decisive snap. For a moment, I'm weightless, suspended between rock and air. Then gravity claims me, pulling me toward the raging waters below.
My hand closes around something. The rope. I grip it with desperate strength, the rough fibers biting into my palm.
“Got it!” I shout.
“Axel!” Nina's voice is frantic. “What's happening?”
Before I can answer, a deafening crack of thunder rolls across the valley. Lightning strikes somewhere nearby, and suddenly there's nothing but static in my ear.
“Nina? Base?” I call into the radio. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing. The communications are down.
The rope’s holding me, but for how long? I begin the agonizing process of pulling myself up the rope, hand over hand, fighting gravity and exhaustion. My shoulders scream in protest, rope burns tearing at my palms.
But all I can think about is Nina, at the dispatch desk, hearing nothing but static after my fall.
Not knowing if I'm alive or dead.