15. Chapter 15
Lorenz
“Nothing,” Tristan said through clenched teeth. “All this time wasted.”
“Let’s do one more,” Beau said.
Lorenz blinked hard, resetting his focus. Beside him, Ry shifted slightly, doing the same. Across the cabin, Alex and Hugo kept their eyes moving in disciplined sweeps.
“Going in from the north side,” Tristan confirmed.
The light outside had a thin, colourless quality, the surrounding peaks washed in cold gray.
There was a dull thud-thud as a stronger gust of wind hit the belly of the helicopter, followed by a brief shudder through the frame. Tristan compensated almost before it registered, keeping the machine steady.
The missing hiker—fifty-five-year-old Gerard Lodain—had set out from the north side of the Chorde Corridor the previous day. His intent, according to his sister, who’d reported him missing when she'd woken up this morning and found his bed untouched, had been to cross all the way to Pormenaz.
It should have taken four hours, maybe less.
He’d been gone nearly twenty-four.
Lorenz focused his eyesight, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. A color contrast. Fresh rockfall scars. Unnatural lines across a slope, where a body might have fallen. Starting with the foreground and moving out into the distance, then back again.
Nothing.
The corridor was too sheltered. If Lodain was down there, they weren’t going to see him from up here.
Eventually, they found themselves flying over Pormenaz.
Lorenz blinked grit from his eyes, his jaw tightening.
“I can do one more,” Tristan offered.
Beau shook his head. “Find somewhere to put us down, Tristan. We need to be down there.” He unfolded a map, bracing it against his thigh as the helicopter jolted again.
Four pairs of eyes focused on the map.
“He was heading south. From here.” Beau traced a line along the plastic surface. “That’s a roughly eight-kilometer stretch of corridor, if we start from here and work back north.”
“All of it bad ground,” Hugo said.
Lorenz leaned forward, one hand braced on the seat next to him.
Hugo was right. The Chorde corridor was known for being steep and unforgiving. But Lorenz had done it before. Most recently, during his training for the desert race.
“I can run it,” he said.
“Of course you can,” Ry said.
“I did it last month. I think I invited you to join me,” Lorenz said.
“Did he decline the invitation?” Alex asked, laughing.
“If it was a choice between spending a day off with Isla, or out here with this guy, I’m surprised you hesitated at all,” Hugo joined in.
“Who says I hesitated?” Ry said, punctuating his words with a brief laugh.
Beau didn’t join in the banter. His gaze flicked up from the map, measuring. “It’s a long run.”
“I know. Two hours if I push it.” In this wind, over that terrain, carrying gear—it wouldn’t be fun. But the visibility was good. He could do it. “Tristan can pick us up, when I find him.”
Still, Beau hesitated.
Ry shot Beau a glance. “I’ll go with him, keep an eye on our resident daredevil.”
“You think you can keep up?” Lorenz asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Somebody needs to keep an eye on you,” Ry drawled, “and I’d like to be there when we find him.”
Beau nodded. “Fine. Lorenz, Ry, get your packs ready. Tristan will let you off here. Hugo, Alex, you will go back to the north end and start the search from there. Just in case. We don’t know where he got into trouble. Tristan and I will keep circling.”
Impatience settled in Lorenz’s belly as Tristan circled. Finally, the helicopter flared low, kicking loose stones into the air as it settled.
Lorenz was already moving before the skids fully settled.
“Stay in touch, you two,” Beau said.
“Sure thing,” Ry replied, shouldering his heavy medic pack. Lorenz would have offered to carry it for him, but he knew there was no way Ry would let it go.
The helicopter lifted off almost immediately, banking away.
“Lead the way, Lorenz,” Ry said. His lips curled into a small smile. “I’ll let you know if I can’t follow.”
Lorenz laughed. Everybody on the team was fit. He had no doubt Ry could do this. But still, he’d keep an eye out for his teammate.
He started off at an easy jog. After a few minutes, he increased the pace, picking a line through the angled slabs.
“This is hell on the knees,” Ry muttered behind him.
“It’s lucky you take collagen with your coffee every day, then,” Lorenz replied. They’d all seen the bottle Ry kept in a drawer of his desk.
“Hey. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Ry replied.
They joked, but the ground demanded their constant attention. At the speed they were going, every step had to be measured, often corrected, to avoid a fall. But they didn’t have the time to go slower.
Gerard Lodain didn’t have the time.
They scanned left and right, looking for anything out of place. One of the things Lodain might have done was hunker down some place for the night. A fine survival idea, but not great for a rescue. So they had to look for anything that didn’t fit.
After an hour of running, they slowed to a walk, sipping water.
“We don’t have much time. The wind seems to be picking up again,” Ry said.
Lorenz had noticed as well. He pulled his buff higher, so it covered his neck. Beside him, Ry did the same.
“I’ll follow you,” Lorenz said, letting Ry set the pace this time. He followed at an easy lope, scanning left, then right. Then back again.
“Hold up,” Ry suddenly said.
Lorenz caught up with him and stopped. Ry was looking downslope, eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Ry pointed. “There.”
At first, Lorenz saw nothing out of place.
Then—
Something black, half-hidden between rocks—too uniform to be rock.
They moved together, angling down. As they approached, the shape resolved into that of a man.
Gerard Lodain—they could only assume it was him—was wedged awkwardly against a small rock outcrop.
No wonder we didn’t spot him from above.
One arm was tucked beneath him, the other slack across his chest. His face was horribly swollen.
Lorenz frowned. “That’s not trauma.”
Ry was already on his knees, next to his heavy medical pack. “He’s been stung. Multiple times.”
Lorenz looked around, but everything was quiet.
“I think it was bees,” Ry said. “But not here. They stung him, but he was able to get away.”
And then collapsed.
Shit.
“He must have disturbed a ground nest. Look at the way the stings cluster around the head and neck.” Ry took the man’s pulse. “Gerard? Can you hear me?”
The man moaned softly.
Up close, it looked worse. The skin around his eyes was puffed nearly shut, the lips and area around the mouth thickened.
“What can I do?” Lorenz asked.
“Call it in,” Ry asked. “Multiple bee stings. No other obvious trauma. Airway maintained—for now. We need extraction fast.” He paused for a second. “Gerard, stay with us.”
“Beau? We found him,” Lorenz said into his earpiece. He gave their precise position. Even Tristan wouldn’t be able to land a helicopter here, but they could extract him with a cable.
“Copy,” Beau’s voice came back. “Tristan and I are inbound. We’ll come back for Alex and Hugo later.”
Beside him, Gerard’s breathing hitched. Was it shallower than just moments ago?
Ry was already pulling medication from his kit.
“Stay with me, Gerard,” he said, voice calm, controlled. “You’re doing great.” He lowered his voice. “Make sure the hospital knows we’re on our way. Possible systemic reaction. We need them ready for us.”
Lorenz relayed the message.
The wind surged again, louder now.
And then, beyond the wind, Lorenz heard it. Faint, at first, but growing louder—the unmistakable thud-thud of rotor blades.
“Tristan’s here,” he said.
Ry didn’t look up. He was focused on his patient, his movements efficient, controlled. He’d already cleared space around the man, shifting loose stones away to create as stable a working area as possible.
Gerard’s breathing was growing shallower—each inhale a visible effort.
“Gerard,” Ry said, his voice firm. “Stay with me. Keep breathing. That’s it.”
The man’s eyelids fluttered, swollen almost shut. Another low sound escaped him—not quite a word.
Lorenz scanned the terrain above them, calculating. The corridor was narrow where they stood. Not ideal. But moving Gerard wasn’t an option, not in his current condition.
The helicopter appeared a moment later, cresting the ridge from the north.
“I’ll get everything set up,” Lorenz said.
The helicopter edged closer, holding high, just above them. Lorenz knew—because they’d done this countless times—that Tristan could hold that position for as long as necessary.
Lorenz pulled his sunglasses down to protect his eyes from the loose grit and dust flying around.
“Holding,” Tristan said, his voice loud and clear on Lorenz’s earpiece.
“Lowering the stretcher.” That was Beau’s voice.
The winch cable and stretcher dropped fast. Lorenz moved immediately, stepping into position to intercept it.
“Got it,” he said, catching the line and bracing his stance against the pull.
Together, Ry and Lorenz transferred the by-now unconscious hiker to the rescue litter.
“I’ll go up with him,” Ry said, clipping himself in. His grim expression told Lorenz all he needed to know about Gerard’s state.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” Ry confirmed. He raised his arm, giving the signal.
The cable tightened. The rescue litter swung slightly at the wind caught it, but Lorenz steadied it until it was past him.
Moments later, the ascent smoothed out . Lorenz watched as the two rose steadily towards the helicopter.
“Come on,” Lorenz said. He didn’t like the way the wind was behaving today.
“I’ve got them,” Beau finally confirmed.
Lorenz exhaled once, slow and controlled, becoming aware of the tension in his shoulders.
“Your turn, Lorenz. Sending the winch cable back to you.”