Powder Burn (Burn with Sam Blackett #1) (9 page)

“
That’s what I said, Lens,” muttered Vegas.

Briefly, Sam explained what was happening while the others gently eased Tashi to the
ground.

Lens sank onto his knees, wincing as he came down on a rock. He stared at them for a while.
“Maybe I’ll just wait here,” he said, finally.

“
No you goddamn won’t,” said Vegas, flicking his backpack off. “You’ll get up and bring my gear with you.” And then he and Pete hoisted Tashi to his feet once more, and the threesome staggered off.

Lens watched them go, with Jortse in close attendance behind.
“A Shibdeese with altitude sickness?” he said to Sam.

“
I suppose it is a bit odd. They both speak English too,” she replied.

“
Really?” said Lens. “So someone has been crossing Shibde’s borders – maybe we’re finally going to learn a bit more about what goes on in this place.”

Vegas, Pete and Jortse took it in turns to support the stricken Tashi, while Sam and Lens dragged the extra packs down the hill behind them. It was brutal work, but by midday they were back at the ice cliff.
“OK,” said Pete, still standing, people and gear strewn around him. “We’re going to have to do this a little differently. I’ll lead the way across again, set the fixed safety line. Then I’ll send back the harness and gear. Lens, you come over next, bring the second rope but leave the harness behind – I’ll show you how to rig up a temporary version with the spare slings and karabiners.”

Lens nodded, and leaned back onto his elbows.

“Then we’ll hook Tashi onto the fixed line wearing the real harness,” continued Pete, “and Vegas can bring him over.” He turned to the American. “Vegas, if you attach the second rope to Tashi, then Lens and I can pull from the other side to help.”

Vegas remained staring out across the valley, arms folded around his knees.

“Once we’ve got him across, I’ll come back with the harness and second rope, and then Sam, Jortse and I will go over one at a time as we did before,” Pete finished up.

“
Is that complicated enough for everyone?” said Lens.

“
Anybody got a better idea?” asked Pete. Only Tashi’s rough and rapid breathing broke the valley’s silence. “So let’s do it.” Pete glanced up; the cloud had broken a little, and there was the odd patch of blue now. “Cheer up, guys, at least the weather’s OK; normally this kind of retreat is done in pissing rain or snow and ten-yard visibility.”

Sam watched as they descended the final few feet onto the valley floor; she clicked off a few frames with her camera, and then started to pour the soup into mugs. The sun had just set behind the cloud and mountains to the west, and a frightening chill had come down with it. Vegas and Pete carried the now almost helpless Tashi to the flat spot that Jortse had chosen, and gently lowered him onto the bedroll. Then they sank to their knees, breathing heavily, exhaustion beyond measure in every movement.

“
Thank you, you have done a good thing today,” said Jortse, throwing an oiled wool blanket over Tashi.

“
Let’s just hope that it’s enough height change to do the trick,” said Pete.

“
We’ve got the tents up and all the gear inside. You can rest,” said Sam, as she handed out the mugs, taking a worried extra glance at Pete – she could hear the strain in his voice. She sat beside him as Lens joined them, squatting at Tashi’s feet. They all ate, watching Jortse trying to get some soup inside his friend.

“
How is he?” she said, eventually.

“
No change – so I guess he’s stopped getting worse,” said Pete.

“
So we have to see how he is in the morning, but if he doesn’t show some kind of improvement, we’ll have to try to get him lower,” she replied.

“
You’re shittin’ me, girl,” said Vegas.

“
We can’t just leave him here,” she said.

“
We’ve done what we can,” said Vegas. “There’s no more height to lose – look!” He waved at the flat valley floor.

“
We can head back around into the other valley, there’s definitely some height change between here and there,” she said, ready with her arguments.

“
It ain’t much and it’s two days away, more with the state he’s in. It isn’t enough to do him any good. No, I say we get on to Powder Burn. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“
You don’t know that for certain,” she replied. “And if he doesn’t make it, how will you feel when you come back this way?”

“
Like I did everything I could,” retorted Vegas.

Pete interrupted
: “Do you know what height he was last comfortable at, before this happened?” he asked Jortse.

“
I ... No ...” Jortse shook his head, looking up from the spoon of soup he held at Tashi’s pallid lips.

“
So we don’t really know what altitude we’re trying to get him down to for a recovery,” said Pete.

“
We could carry him all the way back and up and over the border and still have him die on us,” said Lens, and everyone turned towards the soft voice.

“
Lens!” she hissed. “For god’s sake, he might hear you!” Then she stopped, realizing the implication of what he’d just said. “You don’t want to leave him here too, do you?”

“
The only thing that makes sense is if they get proper help,” said Lens.

“
Where? We’ve seen nothing and no one since we crossed the border,” she replied.

“
I don’t know, I don’t live here, ask them,” retorted Lens.

They all turned back to Jortse, who lifted the spoon away from Tashi and took a mouthful himself. Then he looked around the group.
“There is no one to ask for help. No one lives in these valleys,” he said.

“
What about the Demagistanis?” suggested Lens.

“
We cannot go to them,” replied Jortse.

“
So they did invade,” said Lens.

Jortse just looked at him with blank, empty eyes.

“Maybe you have to give up on escaping Shibde if you want to save your friend,” said Pete.

Jortse grew still, cross-legged, hands clasped in his lap with his mug, his head tilted slightly downwards. It took him a long while to reply.
“The Demagistanis will execute us both if they catch us.”

She opened her mouth to ask why, and then hesitated
– something about Jortse made the inquiry difficult.

“
Dudes,” said Vegas, eventually, “we’re helping wanted men.”

Pete spoke in measured tones to Jortse.
“Even if we get him along the valley, he’s unlikely to be able to get up and across the border.”

“
We’ll take the risk, we have to try,” replied Jortse. “We have to get out of Shibde. We would both rather die out here than get a bullet in the head in some stinking Demagistan prison.”

“
And we’ll be going downhill most of the way to the spot where we climbed up and over to cross the border. There’s a good chance he could improve and be able to manage it by the time we get there,” said Sam.

Pete turned to her.
“I guess that’s a possibility, but ...”

Vegas was shaking his head.
“If we do that we’re screwed. We’re all out of food, even at the main stash, there’s not enough there to do the whole thing again. No, we have to go back up tomorrow.” He eased himself to his feet.

“
Not with me you don’t, I’m not leaving him until he’s safe,” she said.

Vegas looked down at her and shrugged.
“Whatever, we don’t need you, girl.”

Sam glowered back up at him, anger rising
; she needed more support in this argument. There seemed only one place to find it. “Pete?” She turned and looked him in the eyes for a moment, before his gaze moved away, flicked around the group.

“
I ...” He hesitated. “I think that we have to do whatever we can for him – the mountain isn’t going anywhere. Look, everybody’s knackered, and we can’t do anything now anyway, so why don’t we all get some sleep and then make a decision when we see how Tashi is in the morning.”

“
There’s no decision to be made, we go back up before first light,” repeated Vegas. Then he added, “That’s right, isn’t it, Lens?”

“
I’m not convinced that there’s anything more that we can do to help him,” said Lens. “And we have to get the film made. If we don’t, I lose ... I lose everything. I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t want to leave him, but my family ...”

“
Your family aren’t dying,” whispered Sam.

“
I have to look after those closest to me first, and to do that I have to finish the film,” replied Lens. “I’m not sure that anything I can do for him will make any difference anyway,” he repeated.

“
We have to do everything we can, whatever –” she said.

“
You don’t understand, you won’t until you have kids of your own,” retorted Lens.

“
That’s a cheap shot,” she snapped back.

“
Whatever,” said Vegas, “we got a plan.” Rocks ground under his boot heels as he turned and headed to the tent.

The cold and quiet of the night slipped into the gaps between them, with the labored breathing of Tashi a constant reminder of what was at stake. They watched Vegas crawl inside.

“I’m not leaving him. I’ll help Jortse carry him on my own if I have to,” she said.

“
It’s all right for you,” said Lens. “You can write about this.” He waved a hand at the two men. “There’s a great article in this for you, it’s headline news, escape from Shibde, better than Powder Burn. The stuff they can tell you, I’m not surprised you’d rather go with them ...”

“
That’s another cheap shot,” she replied.

“
You’re a journalist?” Jortse’s voice cut in.

“
She is,” Lens replied.

“
No one can know about us,” said Jortse, in a tone that didn’t invite discussion. “If you give them a chance, the Demagistanis will find us – wherever we are in the world.”

Sam gazed at him silently, desperate to know what they had done, what was driving this escape.

“Not so happy now you can’t do your Pulitzer Prize
–
winning story, huh?” said Lens, as he flicked the dregs out of his mug. He got up with great care. “We’ll talk about it again at first light, but Vegas and I are going back to Powder Burn. Pete, a word, please,” and he twitched his head to indicate that it was to be had out of Sam’s earshot.

Pete looked at her helplessly for a moment, then stood and followed Lens towards his tent. Sam watched as they stopped about twenty yards away, too far to hear more than the occasional word. They both had their backs to her, so she couldn’t even see their expressions
– but she didn’t need to, and she burned inwardly at this blatant attempt to take Pete from her side of the argument.

“
I mean it,” said Jortse, “it is a matter of life and death, for both of us.”

Sam jumped, so focused was she on the others.
“Why are the Demagistanis so anxious to catch you?” she asked, without thinking.

“
We’ve been resisting their rule.” Jortse put down the soup mug as he spoke and folded his arms.

“
Has it been terrible?” she asked, the sympathy leaking into her voice.

Jortse nodded.

“Then the outside world can help you if you tell your story. There are things that can be done, things like sanctions, the United Nations –”

“
Shibde takes care of itself.”

“
So why are you running away?”

“
It is temporary.”

She was silent for a moment.
“Your English, I don’t understand – if the borders are closed, how did you both learn such perfect English?”

“
Originally, we learned from a man called Spedding who came here in the days of the British Empire, and the language has been passed down ever since. It has always been a precaution, so some of us can communicate with the outside world.”

“
Just in case Shibde can’t take care of itself?”

Jortse didn’t reply.

“And someone must have already crossed the border for you to learn contemporary English with an American accent, whatever they say about it being closed,” she said.

“
These things do not concern you – there is no story for you here. Trust me, it is safer that way.”

The ghostly, dead eyes shifted to her face as he spoke, and Sam felt a chill trickle up her spine. Was that a threat?

“We should all get some sleep,” said Jortse.

Sam nodded, happy to get out from under that gaze. She struggled to her f
eet and headed towards her tent. She collapsed onto her backside just inside the door, then lay back, too tired to even get her boots off, although the sleeping bag was laid out under her. She watched the sky through the tent door, the cloud almost gone now as the galaxies stepped out onto their stage. So many stars in this incredible darkness, away from the cities, the lights.
Such a beautiful place,
she thought,
but so isolated, so dangerous and so very lonely.