1
There were lots of good things about working in science, Rachel reminded herself as she zipped up her snowsuit. She got to go out and see blue sky and green trees. She could breathe fresh air and see things no one else saw. She didn’t spend all her day inside a climate-controlled lab. Sometimes she had funding to do the work she loved the most.
Those were all good things. Wonderful things.
If only it wasn’t so cold out today, she could really enjoy all of that.
Today was the first day it hadn’t been dangerously cold. For most of the past week, the weather forecast had advised that people not go out at all with uncovered skin and avoid doing anything outdoors that could be avoided. So she’d stayed back at the lab with her gear, waiting for the temperature to drop and checking the instruments for the next rumbles and cracks.
Anders Peak was a solid Adirondack mountain that had been there for centuries without the faintest sign of seismic activity. It had settled into a nice, stable place in its formation, its craggy white peaks above the treeline making it a popular challenge for hikers.
That is, until a month ago, when the mountain had started rumbling.
The rumbles didn’t seem to be earthquakes. It wouldn’t have made any sense for them to be earthquakes, anyway. This wasn’t the kind of mountain that would undergoing substantial tectonic change.
But the rumbles kept happening, and even the residents of the nearby town had started noticing. The most plausible explanation was that someone was up to something they weren’t supposed to be doing, but what that something could be in the middle of an Adirondack winter was open to question. Aerial surveillance hadn’t given them any clues, so Rachel was going to snowshoe up and take a good look. It’d only be a few hours up and down, as the mountain had a gentler slope on the east face and there was a good snowmobile trail the locals used that would get her pretty high up. It was probably too cold to try taking any samples, but she’d carry a light field kit anyway.
It should be a simple up and down, and there probably wouldn’t be anything worth noting. Just a little mountain air, some beautiful scenery. It’d be fun, really. She just wished the temperature hadn’t dropped quite so low.
Get in, take some samples, get out. Easy. Maybe she’d even get a start on figuring out what was causing all this shaking in the first place. That would be nice. Usually she was just one person gathering pieces that would be put together later back at the university, but it was always nice when you were the person with the key piece.
Maybe she could get coffee or something with her friend Karen later, though she’d been busy lately with her new baby. It seemed like everyone around her was busy with something—their family, a new boyfriend or girlfriend. Rachel was too busy to be lonely, but sometimes…
Stop spacing out and get to work, she told herself. She checked her gear again. Snowsuit, snowshoes, heat packs, a pair of flares in case things went wrong. Her field kit. Her camera battery was already charged. The radio would run off a solar panel or the snowmobile battery, if things took an unexpected turn for the worse. Might as well head out.
She picked up the radio. “Keller here, I’m heading out.”
“Okay,” came Karen’s voice from back at the lab. “Check in when you get to the site.”
“10-4,” Rachel said, and got on her snowmobile.
The trip up to the landing was uneventful. She parked her snowmobile, put on her snowshoes, and took a quick look around. She could see nothing unusual about the mountain at all. It didn’t even look like the shaking had affected the characteristic patterns of snowdrift, which…well, that was probably a good sign.
She made sure her gloves were tight and headed up the trail. It had snowed a little overnight, which meant she was walking through light, fluffy powder. After a while, she was warmed up, and the cold bothered her a lot less.
About halfway up the trail, there was a spot where people could look out over the mountainside; a sheer break in the rock that exposed a spectacular view. She always liked to pause there a little while. She noticed the small metal fence that usually served as a last-ditch stop against falling had broken with the winter snowfall.
That was all right. She had her snowshoes, and it wasn’t that slippery, anyway.
The mountains were beautiful up here. You could see how colossal they really were, and get a sense of their history, all their changes and transformation. Sometimes Rachel thought she could almost see what had happened, the rocks staying behind while the massive glaciers melted—
She felt a brush of wind, close to her shoulder. Almost like a bird, though it felt larger than that—
She didn’t have time to turn her head and look before something—someone pushed at the center of her back, so hard she stumbled forward, toward the cliff.
Her foot dropped into air.
She scrambled for purchase, to get a hand, foot, something to steady her, to stop the fall—
Nothing worked. Her gloves were too slippery on the snow. She fell, down, down—
Something crashed into her back. Stone, hard, painful. The rough edges were ripping at her snowsuit, and she felt cold sneaking in.
She tried twisting her body to lessen the impact, but it was hard to tell which way was up. All there was was down, faster and faster.
How long would she have to fall before the speed of the descent would kill her? She might not even have the chance to—
She fell into something painful before she finally crashed to the ground. She struggled to catch her breath. Her ribs were on fire. Still, Rachel thought. It’s not as bad as it could be. She could tell she’d fallen into a snowdrift, not on sheer rock. Rock might have killed her.
Of course, now the cold and ice would probably kill her.
First, she needed to get up. A few seconds to catch her breath, that was all she needed. Just a little time to take stock. Her snowsuit was ripped, in at least one place. Her hat and gloves were still intact, and one boot was still on. She couldn’t tell if the boot or her snowshoes were anywhere near her without lifting her head.
She wiggled her fingers and toes, without much additional pain. Then she tried lifting one arm slowly, then the other, then one leg after another.
Okay, Rachel told herself. This is as good as it’s going to get. Now I just need to sit up—
When she tried, pain exploded through her ribs, taking her breath away.
Maybe she just needed to rest a little longer. Not too long—not so long as to be dangerous—but enough to give her ribs a little time to recover.
For a second, she allowed herself a fantasy—someone strong and protective, coming to her rescue. Pulling her out of the snow and keeping her warm and safe. It was ridiculous, but it made her feel a little better. Maybe a shifter; she’d never met a shifter, that she knew of. It could be a giant eagle, like in the books. Or a dragon, or griffin…were there griffin shifters?
She’d be fine, in just a few minutes. Just a little rest. That was all.
She closed her eyes.