6. Chapter 6
Lorenz
Blood had already begun to stiffen on Lorenz’s gloves.
Shit.
He increased pressure against the wound, bracing carefully around the thick branch embedded in the man’s shoulder. He wasn’t going anywhere near it.
Ry’s voice crackled in his ear, calm but tight around the edges. Finally.
“Victim one is a male climber. Suspected pelvic fracture with signs of internal bleeding. Unconscious. I’m stabilizing him for movement.”
“I’ve got the second climber,” Lorenz said over comms. “Male. Heavy bleeding. Penetrating impalement injury to the right shoulder, with the foreign body still in place.”
Ry’s voice came immediately. “Is the patient conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Keep the pressure on. Don’t disturb the object. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The climber shifted, tried to push himself upright. Lorenz pressed him back down without much effort, careful not to release pressure against the wound.
“Easy. Don’t move,” Lorenz said. “I’ve got you.”
“It’s not …” The climber swallowed, breath shallow. “It’s not, like, all the way through, is it?”
All he had to do was look down, but his eyes remained firmly on Lorenz’s. The brain’s way of protecting him from further shock.
“Stay with me,” Lorenz said steadily. “I’m with the PGHM. We’re going to get you to a hospital. What’s your name?”
“Joe. From New York.”
“Nice to meet you, Joe-from-New-York. I’m Lorenz.”
Spring icefall release was the worst. People trusted ice that looked solid, never realizing how quickly the spring sun hollowed it out from within.
Lorenz glanced up at the ice face. The ropes were still visible halfway up, slack now, marking the spot where the climbers had been when a section of ice released above them.
It was a miracle they’d landed on this ledge instead of being swept down the full length of the face. There would have been no rescue then, only recovery.
Boots crunched on the ice behind him.
Beau jogged in, one glance at the injury and then at the wall above. “We need to move now. This ledge won’t hold. Ry?”
“Pulse is rapid and thready. I’m not getting much peripherally. I’m staying with him. If he crashes on the line, I need to be here.”
“We’re stable here,” Lorenz said, tightening his hold as the injured climber shifted again. “Bleeding’s slowed.”
Beau nodded once, weighing his decision.
“Ry and Alex, ride with your climber down in the stretcher. There’s a team waiting for you on the ground. Lorenz and I will lower the second victim using the harness.
He knelt beside Lorenz. “You stay with him. I’ll run the system from above.”
Lorenz didn’t bother arguing. He knew his boss. If Beau thought the ledge was unstable, he’d be the last one off it. The fastest way to get Beau down was to get the climber down as quickly as possible.
Lorenz clipped the climber into his harness, checking and rechecking with fingers gone numb from the cold. He kept the man slightly offset, positioning his body so the injured shoulder stayed clear of the wall.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex, Ry and the stretcher disappear over the edge, ropes feeding smoothly as Beau controlled the descent from above.
Then Beau was back. “On my call.”
“Okay, Joe,” Lorenz said. “You’re going to feel movement. Just stay relaxed and let us do all the work, okay?”
“That’s … great. Because I’m officially done with ice. With mountains. With Europe. I’m getting on the next flight back home.”
Maybe not quite the next flight.
“Save that energy, Joe. You’ll be on your way home in no time.”
The rope took their weight.
Descending with an adult man clipped to your harness was a careful negotiation—gravity pulling unevenly, every movement magnified. Lorenz kept his boots wide, walking the wall in deliberate steps, absorbing the sway before it reached Joe.
A sharp crack split the air.
Ice fractured overhead.
“Down!” Beau shouted.
Lorenz didn’t think. He turned instantly, curling over Joe, pressing him flat to the ledge, one arm shielding the man’s head as ice fragments rained down. Something slammed into Lorenz’s helmet—hard enough to rattle his teeth—followed by a spray of shards across his back.
The ledge shuddered, but there were no more cracks.
“Lorenz.” Beau’s voice sounded rough.
“Are you okay, Joe?” Lorenz asked quietly.
The climber blinked up at him, eyes unfocused. “Still alive.”
“Alive is good. We’re okay, Beau. You?”
“Enjoying the view. Lowering. Now.”
The rope went taught.
Lorenz pressed his boots against the wall, once again controlling their swing. Joe groaned as gravity pulled at his shoulder, but Lorenz didn’t stop. Slowing down would mean longer exposure.
Finally, the ground team came into view—he could see Alex and Ry, kneeling over the stretcher, and bright orange jackets that he recognized as belonging to the Megève firefighters.
As Lorenz’s boots hit the snow, hands were already on Joe.
“Fine day for an ice climb,” Sébastien Marchand said, easily taking the weight of the climber so Lorenz could unclip.
Bastien was an avid climber and would have made a fine member of the PGHM if he hadn’t decided to become a firefighter instead. He considered Bastien a friend. Together, they had climbed some crazy stuff, but Lorenz liked to think they wouldn’t have been caught on this wall in early spring.
“Glad to see you, Bastien.” Then, on the radio, “We’re off rope.”
“On my way,” Beau replied.
Bastien and his partner, Océane, took over smoothly, guiding Joe into a supported sit.
The climber gripped Lorenz’s sleeve with surprising strength. “Are you coming with me?”
Lorenz pried his fingers loose gently. He wasn’t going anywhere until Beau was safe. “No. But you’re in the best hands with Ry, Bastien and Océane. They’ll take care of you. And that twig.”
Ry was already jogging over. Lorenz briefed him quickly. “He’s been conscious the whole time, and the bleeding has slowed down.”
“Good job. Now let’s get him to a surgeon.”
As the firefighters moved Joe towards the helicopter, Beau landed beside Lorenz, eyes flicking to his helmet. Lorenz guessed there was a dent in it.
“Maybe I need to send you back to training,” Beau said dryly. “You do know if you’d gone unconscious, there’s no way I could’ve lowered both of you, right?”
Lorenz gave a thin smile. “Lucky it was just an ice cube that hit me, then.”
Beau turned serious again. “Alex? Anybody else?”
“All clear. No additional climbers on the route.”
“Good,” Beau said. “We’re done here. Let’s see if we can get this route closed until May, at the earliest.”
They turned from the wall as the helicopter lifted, ice face looming above them—quiet for now, but no less dangerous.
For the first time since he’d put on his uniform, Lorenz allowed himself to think of Charlie.
If she hadn’t changed her mind, he was going to get the chance to speak with her.
To say everything he should have said a long time ago.