Page 53 of Mountain Impact

Isolde called again and left another message, letting him know Amélie wasn’t there, and asking him to call her when he could.

Isolde squared her shoulders and brought out her thankfully plastic-coated map of the area. She hadn’t come out here just to take the lift back down.

She needed to find Amélie.

Isolde ran her finger along the path that went from the chalet to the spot where Pierre had met his death. It was higher elevation, which meant the storm would most likely be worse up there.

How far ahead is she?

Only one way to find out.

Isolde tightened the pack around her shoulders. She wasn’t an experienced hiker by any means, but in the years since she’d arrived in Chamonix she’d learned a few things. One of them was that a loose backpack would feel twice as heavy as a well-placed one, and cause much discomfort by the end of the hike.

As she walked, Isolde kept looking at her feet ―the last thing she wanted was to trip on a rock and end up twisting her ankle.

She shouted Amélie’s name until her throat felt raw. And, every so often but with increasing frequency the further she got from the chalet, she stopped to look at her map. Everything looked different in the descending fog, and she couldn’t afford to take a wrong turn.

She wished Drake were here. Or Gael, who was a professional tracker―or, even better, Bailey. Even in this rain, they’d be able to track Amélie down with relative ease, whereas she might be walking right by Amélie and not see her if the woman didn’t speak up.

It was at that point that Isolde realized she was in way over her head. She would call Drake again and, if he didn’t pick up, she’d call the PGHM hotline. Her fingers were colder than she’s realized―it took her a couple tries just to get the phone out of her pocket, only to discover she was in a dead zone.

Shit.

She was going to need to backtrack until she reached an area with phone coverage.

Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them away angrily. She’d come all this way because she wanted to help Amélie, but she’d overestimated her capabilities out here. She needed help.

Sighing, Isolde turned to head back down, conscious of the edge to her left side―there was the valley beneath her feet, the ground a few hundred feet below.

Suddenly, Isolde heard a sound off behind the path. Her heart seized, thinking of the lynx she, Drake and Jamie had seen just a few weeks earlier.

Don’t be ridiculous, Isolde.

They found that lynx.

But what if there’s another one?

“Amélie?” Isolde whispered.

The bushes rustled. Isolde sighed in relief when she saw Amélie’s body appear from behind the greenery.

“Amélie, thank God. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“You found me,” Amélie said. She was wrapped up in a thick winter jacket, but still shivering in the cold.

“Listen, we need to make our way back to the chalet,” Isolde said. “We’ll be safe there. The storm’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

“It is.”

Something about Amélie’s tone sent a shiver up Isolde’s spine.

“Amélie? How long have you been out here?” Hypothermia was a serious concern if she’d been standing out here for a long time.

Amélie wasn’t looking at her. Instead, she looked off towards the valley below. Isolde didn’t like the glacial expression on her face.

“Did you come alone?” Amélie asked, looking all around them.

“Yes. I was worried, Amélie, we need to―”