Rue shook her head. “I’m lighter and I’ve done more crevasse rescues. You and Noah anchor, I descend.”
For a moment, Elliot looked like he might argue, but then gave a nod.
She turned back to the hole. “Tyler, I’m coming down to you. Stay calm and don’t move.”
“Not going anywhere,” he called back, his laugh turning into a pained cough.
Rue quickly strapped into the harness while Elliot secured more anchors in the solid ice several feet back from the edge. She checked each carabiner, each knot. Noah positioned himself as the primary belayer, his strong hands gripping the rope with confidence that spoke of experience.
“Communication check,” she said into her radio. “Tyler, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” came his strained reply.
“Elliot?”
“Copy,” he confirmed, testing the anchors one final time.
“Noah?”
“Ready when you are.”
Rue took a deep breath, centering herself. This was the part of her job that required absolute focus, where a single mistake could mean the difference between life and death. She backed carefully toward the edge of the crevasse.
“Beginning descent,” she announced, then stepped backward into empty air.
The world narrowed to the feel of the rope in her hands, the creak of ice around her, and the steady control of her descent. The crevasse walls glittered in the beam of her headlamp, eerily beautiful despite the danger. She rappelled down with practiced ease, her movements slow and deliberate.
“Talk to me, Tyler,” she called as she neared his position. “How’s the pain level?”
“Five out of ten,” he replied through gritted teeth. “My pride is definitely at eleven, though.”
Despite everything, Rue’s lips quirked. The kid had spirit, she’d give him that. “Well, maybe next time you’ll listen when I tell you to stay in the safe zone.”
“If I get out of here, I promise to be your most obedient team member ever.”
“When, not if,” she corrected, reaching his level. “And I’ll hold you to that.”
Up close, she could see his predicament clearly. His right leg was wedged at an awkward angle where the crevasse narrowed, trapped not by ice but by the awkward positioning. His face was scratched, a thin line of blood trailing from his temple, but his eyes were clear—no signs of concussion.
“Here’s the plan,” she said, securing herself in position. “We’re going to harness you up, then I’ll help you shift your weight so you can free your leg. Then the team pulls us both out. Simple.”
“Yeah, super simple,” he muttered, then winced as he tried to move.
“Easy. Let’s get this harness on you. I’m about to get personal with you for a moment while I put this on.”
“Well, I don’t mind as long as you don’t tell your fiancé,” Tyler quipped through gritted teeth as she worked the harness around his legs. “Elliot seems like the jealous type.”
Rue heard a short, dry laugh from above.
“I can still hear you, Tyler,” Elliot called down, his voice echoing off the ice walls. “And I’m currently holding your life in my hands, so maybe don’t hit on my woman, yeah?”
My woman.Her belly fluttered at the possessiveness in Elliot’s voice, and she had to remind herself, again, it was just a show.
“Keep it professional,” she muttered under her breath as she finished securing the harness around Tyler’s hips. His body trembled beneath her hands, either from cold or fear or both.
“Sorry,” Tyler whispered. “I joke when I’m terrified.”
“I know. Let’s focus on getting you out of here.” Rue tugged on the harness straps one last time, ensuring they were tight enough to hold but not so tight they’d cut off circulation. “How’s that feel?”
