The arctic wind, frigid and almost luminous, howled up Mount St. Elias' southwestern ridge like a wheeling dragon, spitting ice like vengeful fire. The sun cast glittering iridescent auroras off the packed snow and frozen stone, turning the seemingly barren mountain into an impressionist painting of indescribable ecstatic beauty.

Three figures crawled, insect-like, across St. Elias' vast face. Joined by a thread of orange paracord, they dragged themselves forward and up by ice pick and axe, heads down against the draconic wind. The snow flew before them, thick as bees swarming, parting by the brief whim of the wild wind to reveal glimpses of the bright, blinding sky.

“Hurry up, Avery!” The middle figure tugged playfully on the cord joining him to the last man in line who had paused to stare at the splendor of shattered light on the snow.

“Relax, Dan,” Avery laughed, shouting over the wind. “The mountain isn't going anywhere!”

“This storm sure is!” Dan called back. “I want to make it to the next camp before it buries us!”

The storm, just one of many they'd weathered during the nearly month-long trek up tempestuous St. Elias, had taken them by surprise halfway through the day's climb. They'd elected to push on to the next camp rather than turn back, figuring it was close to the same distance either way. The men, confident and exhilarated by how close they were to the summit, hadn't noticed how much worse the wind was getting, nor how quiet their guide had become.

“Hays!” Dan called up to the silent guide. “How much further?”

“Another hour,” Hays called back. “Maybe more. The wind is slowing us down!”

“What did he say?” Avery called up, unable to hear through the wind.

“He said it's going to be more than an hour!”

“We can't keep climbing in this!” Avery shouted back. “It's only getting worse! We should find a ledge and wait it out!”

Dan repeated Avery's message up to Hays. The guide was climbing faster than either of them and was barely visible through the blinding clouds of snow.

“Hays!” Dan shouted up at the man when the guide didn't respond. “Hays, slow down!”

The line ahead of Dan appeared to simply vanish into a wall of flying snow. It was an eerie sight, the line simply ending just a few feet ahead. Hays was still not answering.

“Hays!” Dan yelled up again.

“What's wrong?” Avery shouted up behind him.

“I don't know! He's not answering!”

“Is he looking for a ledge?”

“I don't know!”

Avery felt a stone of anxiety sitting heavy in his gut, though he told himself it was only another storm. They'd weathered worse on this mountain already. He always got a little tense when the storms got bad, but they'd make it through the other side like they always did. Still, he searched the mountain face for anywhere they could dig in until it passed. The wind on the sheer face could tear a man right off the stone, get under him and flip him like a pancake, spinning off into oblivion. Even if you did everything right, if the wind got too strong, like it was getting now, it could kill you anyway.

The wind roared in his ears under the staccato snap of his nylon jacket flapping. He felt, for neither the first nor the last time, how terribly empty this mountain was, and how small and alone they were upon it.

And then he heard a sound, distinct among the wind and the clicking of carabiners, the soft sliding rush of nylon against snow. Avery looked to the left and watched as Hays slid past him. The man didn't reach for him, didn't even cry out. He just slipped past, so quickly Avery almost missed it. One moment he was there and the next he had vanished into the white fog of snow, silent but for the whisper of his jacket against the ice.

“Dan!” Avery screamed. “Dan! Hays just went past me! He's gone!”

“What?”

Avery could hear the panic in Dan's voice even if he couldn't see his face. He heard the frantic scrabbling as Dan dragged on the cord that should have connected him to Hays.

“Fuck! I have his cord!” Dan cried. “It's cut, Avery! He cut it!”

“What happened?”

“I don't know!”

“We have to go back for him!”

“We can't!”

Avery looked back into the white oblivion that surrounded him, searching for something, any trace of the other man.

“We can't just leave him!” he shouted. “He might be caught on something just a few feet below us!”

“Was he conscious when he passed you?”

Avery bit his lip, remembering the way Hays had slid past him, sudden and silent, trying to recall any sign of the other man trying to save himself.

“Avery! Was he conscious?”

“I don't know!” Avery admitted with a frustrated shout. “I couldn't see his face through the mask! He wasn't moving!”

“He's gone, Avery!” Dan shouted. “We can't help him! And if we don't get out of this wind we're going to be in the same situation soon!”

Dan started climbing again, dragging Avery on, and Avery followed, numb with horror. His mind kept replaying the sound of Hays’ jacket on the snow, the way he'd just slipped past. If Avery had reacted faster, if Hays had reached out—

“Avery!” Dan shouted at him. “Focus!”

He'd stopped climbing and Dan was pulling in the slack from his line, trying to keep them within sight of each other in spite of the blinding snow. Avery shook his head to clear it.

“We can't just keep climbing!” he said. “In this snow we could climb right past the camp and never see it!”

“What else are we going to do?” Dan demanded.

“We could go back! We passed a cave earlier today—”

“You're still trying to go back for Hays!”

“He could still be alive! We still have time!”

A shower of snow, not from the sky but loosened from the snow pack above them, rushed over them both and silenced their argument abruptly. It lasted no more than a few seconds, but spelled fear to both men.

“The pack is about to come down on us!” Dan shouted, and started climbing faster and skewed to the right, hoping to get around whatever part of the snow had grown too heavy in this blizzard and was about to come sliding down on top of them. They would be carried off the mountain and buried alive. There was no more time for arguing. Avery followed Dan, fingers fumbling with cold and fear.

“We're going to be fine!” Dan shouted, barely audible over the howling wind. “I can see a ledge! It's just above us.”

Avery felt a rush of relief. They could get under that ledge and have a little protection from the wind and falling snow. They'd dig in until the storm had passed. Once they had some visibility, Avery was certain Hays would be just below them. Everything would be fine.

The wind gusted, hard. Avery was secure, but Dan had been mid movement. The wind got its fingers under him and pried him off the stone, flinging him into the air. Avery braced himself and hung on as he felt the yank of Dan's weight dragging on the cord that connected them. Dan slammed into the mountainside below Avery, and Avery felt the piton by which he was secured to the mountain shift and twist loose in the stone.

“Dan!” he screamed. “Dan!”

“I'm all right!” Dan shouted back. “I'm fine!”

He was still swinging, the motion putting all his weight on Avery and on the gear holding Avery to the mountain. He scrambled for a hand hold, hacking at the snow for purchase and not finding it.

“Dan!” Avery shouted as he felt the piton slipping. “You gotta get a hold on something!”

“I'm gonna unclip the tether!” Dan called up to Avery.

“What? No!”

“Just for a minute!” Dan insisted. “I can't get purchase here! Our tracks are just a foot down! I can slide until I get secure and I'll climb back up to you!”

“Dan, no! Don't do it!” Avery felt wild panic seizing him. The piton was sliding, his arms were shaking. He couldn't keep holding Dan's weight, but he knew if Dan unclipped the tether Avery would never see him again.

“Stay right there!” Dan shouted. “I'll be right back!”

Avery couldn't look down. He felt the weight vanish from the tether. He re-secured the piton and himself on the mountain, shaking with fear and exhaustion. He clung to the mountain face unmoving as the wind did its best to rip him loose. A minute passed, then two, and Avery hung with no company but the roaring wind and the stone he hung on to.

“Dan?” he shouted in wild hope. “Dan!”

There was no answer. He stayed there for ten minutes or more that felt like an eternity, shouting for the other man. But no answer ever came, and the wind was only getting worse. Avery began to climb.

The ledge was right where Dan had said it would be. Avery dug in, still hoping that maybe Dan would climb into view at any moment, Hays behind him. The storm raged on and Avery waited, alone on Mount St. Elias.