Jenneca’s breaths were shallow. She couldn’t move. Everywhere she looked was white. She had a space directly to her front, and light came down from above. She tried to lean her head back so she could look up, but the snow behind her head wouldn’t budge. She was crouched, poles in her hands in a hole. She could move her arms, but not her legs. Her toes wiggled in her boots. That was a good sign. Did anything hurt? Yes. Everything hurt, and her head ached. And her teeth. She had a metallic taste in her mouth.

She reached across to her shoulder pocket, and pain shot through her arm. She gritted her teeth and unzipped the pocket, grabbing her phone. She pulled her gloves off and tried to text anyone, but the service had one bar. Tripp, her mother, Jorge, her coach, everyone she could think of she sent an SOS. Then she shared her location with Tripp. She pinged him until she was afraid her phone would run out of batteries. Then she put the phone on high volume and put it back in her shoulder pocket to wait. She felt like she wasn’t getting enough air. And her breaths became deeper and deeper. She started to panic, but her kicking and swinging of her arms did nothing for her except send a shower of snow down on top of her head.

She leaned back her head and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She must be deeper in this hole than she thought. After a time, she felt calmer and her brain darkened as she slipped from consciousness.

Tripp told the pilot to circle back. “She has to be here.” The ping for her location widened its circle the closer they got. Her service was not as powerful up here in the mountains. At least she had some. The helicopter got as low as it could, flying over the runs that he and Jenneca had taken just two weeks ago. They hugged the right side, seeing her tracks, then the spot where it looked like she stopped, then her hiking tracks and exit into the trees. With dread, Tripp knew she headed over to the left. He directed the pilot.

Jorge’s voice in his earphones jarred him. “What are you doing?”

“We were just here last time. I know where she went next.”

The copter flew up and over the trees and then lowered at the spot Tripp directed. His breath caught, and his heart pounded. The ledge had been stripped of snow. He could see rocks, with evidence of a slide. The ravine off to their side was narrow. He didn’t know if a helicopter could fit in a descent.

“She went over.”

The pilot swore and Jorge looked at him with wide worried eyes. “Are you sure?”

Tripp nodded. “Yes.”

The pilot edged closer to the drop and they lifted the hatch, the glass bottom showing them a clear view of the two hundred foot drop.

Much of it was in shadow. He grabbed the binoculars and tried to focus. “Stay here.”

The pilot kept them steady.

He studied the darkening snow. He could see where piles of snow at fallen, could see holes where things had landed, but nothing seemed big enough to indicate a fallen body. With some relief, he shook his head. “I don’t think she’s in there. Let’s keep looking over there where the ledge ends.

“Roger that.” The pilot moved them up and hovered slowly along the ledge and over to the wider space. But no ski tracks were visible. He scanned the area of trees. Nothing. His phone dinged.

He whipped it out. “A message from Jenneca!” It took a moment for the text to load. She’d sent it over an hour ago. Finally it showed up. “Help. Fell off ledge. Deep.”

“Turn around. She’s down there.”

The pilot hovered back to the ravine. “Prince Valdez. I’m not a rescue copter. I don’t know if I can make it down there.”

“But if she’s in the snow, she’s gonna run out of air.” He texted all the information to his assistant. He would forward it to all the search and rescue teams. But Tripp knew if they didn’t act now, Jenneca might not make it.

“I need ropes. I need shovels. And I need the ladder.”

Jorge gripped his shoulder. “Are you going down?”

Tripp nodded. And the relief on Jorge’s face warmed him.

The pilot cleared his throat. “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”

Tripp opened the hatch. Instead of a glass bottom they were looking down directly at the snow below, the icy air filling their cabin. He strapped snow shoes onto his back, pulled his back pack on and prepared the rope ladder. He checked and double checked it was fastened securely to the copter, then he waited.

The pilot lowered them painstakingly. It felt like inches at a time. They were mere feet from the cliff walls on two sides. A shift in the wind could send them into the wall at either side. They needed to be quick and yet their pace was slow. With every breath Tripp took, he worried Jenneca had taken her last. He texted her. “We are above you. Hang on.” The closer they got, the more clearly he could see the difference between the different indentations in the ground. There was a hole that was darker than the others, that seemed like it might go deeper. And that is where he was headed. But he had to be careful not to cave all the snow in on her.

At last he felt they were close enough. He rolled down the ladder, nodded at Jorge who reached forward and gripped his arm. And then stepped his first foot on the swaying ladder. He hurried down the rungs, scrambling almost until he reached the very end. Still ten feet above ground, he made sure he was far enough away from the hole and dropped the rest of the way. He had to be careful not to create his own hole, one he could not climb out of and so he flattened out, stretching his body into a large X, and prepared for the coldest belly flop of his life. He hit the snow hard. It wasn’t as soft as he expected, but that was positive since it also didn’t cave in around him. He rolled to his side, quickly clipped on his snow shoes and walked over to the hole where he suspected Jenneca sat trapped.

The helicopter hovered above them.

Tripp lay across the snow and peered down into the hole. He let out his breath in great relief when he saw the top of Jenneca’s head. Her body was wedged in a tight ball, her knees almost to her chest. Part of the problem might be that her boots were still clipped into her skis. It looked almost like she had come down in the tucked position and sunken into the snow, becoming trapped. “Jenneca!”

She didn’t respond. “Jenneca! Listen to me, honey. Answer me. Jenneca!”

No movement, no response was disheartening, but Tripp got to work. He yanked the rope out of his backpack and fastened the lasso type knot he would need. Then he grabbed his shovel and began scooping away at the snow, digging away at the lip of the hole, throwing snow out behind him as fast as he could. All the while, he called to Jenneca.

He dug and dug. His arms were numb from the pain and effort, but he ignored the fatigue. He ignored the panic that tried to well up with Jenneca’s continued silence. He dug down until he was low enough to try to slip the rope down to her and perhaps get it to go down around and under her arm.

He felt like the kid in the video game store moving the claw, hoping to grasp onto something substantial before he brought it back up. Except he had never cared so much to catch hold. “Please Jenneca. Wake up. Grab the rope, honey. Grab it.”

He got it down around her shoulder and pulled up. It caught up under her arm. “Yes!” With that connection, he could start to pull her up, maybe, depending on the skis.

“Jenneca. I’ve got you. I’m gonna try and pull you up. If you can help me, just hold on. I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t the best hold, and he had to be careful not to let the rope slip and go up around her neck. The sound of the helicopter above and the silence below him reminded him how much of a hurry he was in.

He pulled the rope, slowly at first and then with greater intensity. She was nudged to the side, the rope yanking up from her armpit towards the opposite arm. “Jenneca. Jenneca honey.” He jiggled the rope, jostling her, with the hopes that she might wake. The hole was bigger and the air closer to her.

He waved the copter closer. He was going to have to try to tie the rope to the ladder and lift her up that way. It might hurt. It might even put undo strain on her legs, with boots on, skis still attached and stuck under the snow. But with her unconscious, and not responding, he didn’t see any other way. He prayed he wouldn’t break her legs.

The pilot lowered the helicopter slowly. The ladder hit Tripp on the head and he grabbed on, tying the rope. He tried to rouse her one last time. “Jenneca.” He tossed some snow down onto her face.

She jolted awake, frantically trying to look above. And she took a deep breath.

“Jenneca!”

“Tripp?” She couldn’t tilt her head back to look, but she tried. “Tripp?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. You have a rope up under your armpit and I’m about to pull you up with a helicopter. But honey, can you slip out of your boots?”

“I don’t know.” She reached down and tried to mess with the latches. But her fingers wouldn’t work the metal. “My fingers are numb.” She paused. “I think my legs are numb too.”

“It’s OK, don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of here. Stay with me.” Maybe he could lower himself down there, now that the rope was attached to the ladder and he knew they had a way back up. He used the rope as leverage and lowered himself head first into the hole. As he did, bits of snow fell down all around him, but he continued on anyway. When he finally reached her, he kissed the top of her head. “I’m here, baby.”

“Oh Tripp, thank you.” Her small voice almost melted his heart. She sounded so weak, so tired.

He used one arm to keep hold of the rope and the other to start unclipping her boots. Within moments, he had both loosened and he was ready for her to be lifted out. He reached for his phone and called the pilot. “Pull us up.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, slowly.”

“That’s the name of the game right now.”

The slack on the rope tightened, and it pulled against Jenneca.

“Try to get your other arm in that rope loop.”

She did, she tried, but just her hand went through, and she held on, likely with a pin prickling agony. Tripp had a hold just above her. As they started to lift up out of the hole and her legs straightened, she cried out in pain. “Oh, the pins and needles. It’s terrible!”

But Tripp breathed out in relief when her socked feet left her boots. And they started to rise.

Before long, she was up and out of the hole, and in Tripp’s arms. The copter paused and he held her to him for a moment. “I love you, Jen.”

“I love you too.” She leaned into him, unable to stand.

“I’ve got you.” Tripp tied the rope around her better and then held onto her and the ladder both and nodded for the pilot to continue rising up out of the ravine.