Page 52 of Mountain Impact

He didn’t apply the brakes until he was twenty feet from the ground―but in the fog he’d miscalculated and hit a tree before falling to the ground like a lump. He was lucky he hadn’t broken anything.

Man up. Isolde needs you.

He unclipped himself from the rope quickly and spoke into the short wave radio.

“Off the line. Thanks, Kat.”

“I’m off to refuel, call me if you need me, Drake. Good luck.”

Drake pulled his jacket tighter across his hips and neck. It was already going to be miserable enough out here without getting wetter than he needed to. He brought out his phone and dialed Isolde’s number. The phone rang and rang. Drake disconnected it before it went to voice mail and put the sodden phone back in his inside pocket, close to his body, to protect the battery.

It was only five thirty p.m. but visibility was so low, it already felt like night was closing in. Drake pulled out his head lamp and put it over his forehead, then placed the hood back over his head. He turned the light on. Hiking alone was dangerous enough in the best of cases. Hiking alone in the middle of a storm without a head light was beyond foolish.

He turned to look at the top of the chairlift. He’d already spoken to the manager below while waiting for Kat to pick him up. He’d closed down at four p.m., when it became clear the storm would not pass them by. Chairlifts and heavy winds didn’t mix, so the man’s caution was understood.

The man remembered Isolde, since she’d been asking about another young woman―he hadn’t been able to help her, though, as nobody remembered seeing the young woman. Then he’d turned to do something else, and by the time he’d looked back, Isolde was gone.

What happened, Isolde? Where did you go?

He looked down at his phone. Cell reception was strong here. It was possible she’d received another call from Amélie. Maybe the woman had taken the chairlift down and they were both at home right now.

But if so, why isn’t she picking up the phone?

Damien had sent someone to check both Isolde and Amélie’s home―but, until he got news back from that, Drake had to work on the assumption that Isolde was somewhere up in the mountains.

I’m going to find you, Isolde.

As far as he could see―which admittedly wasn’t very far―everything was still. Suddenly, lighting splintered the air, a white-hot flash against the dark fog. It spurred Drake into motion. He wasn’t going to find Isolde by standing out here in the storm.

Chapter 17

Isolde

When she finally made her way to the top of the chairlift, Amélie Omont was nowhere to be found. After checking with the chairlift attendant, who did not remember seeing Amélie, Isolde followed the horde of visitors making their way to the nearby chalet for a warm drink.

Isolde was cautiously hopeful that Amélie would be there as well―the day had turned very cold, after all―but that hope died with a quick look inside the chalet.

No Amélie.

Until now Isolde had kept her fear and worry at bay by the promise she’d extracted from Amélie, that she’d wait up here by the chairlift. Now, though, those feelings swam to the front of her mind.

She wasted precious minutes talking to the chalet manager, who confided in her that he never looked at his guests, only at the food he served. He wouldn’t know if Amélie had been there or not.

What matters is that she’s not here now.

Where are you Amélie?

A fine drizzle covered her as she stood outside the building.

Great, just what I needed.

The line of visitors was moving in the other direction now. It seemed people had decided there was no point in being here in this drizzle―not when the descending fog wouldn’t let them enjoy the view.

Isolde had never felt this alone in her life. She picked up her phone, praying she’d have a message from Drake. He would know what to do.

No message.

They were probably busy.