Four hours later, we were down off the mountain. We’d tucked the legs of our waterproof pants into our boots, so our socks weren’t wet and clammy, but a couple of miles back the snow had turned to slush and then to mud, and it had become difficult pulling our boots from the muck.
What bothered me, though, was that Doc was pale and sweating.
“Can we take a break?” I bent and braced my palms on my knees, exaggerating my breathlessness. “I need to rest.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ed said, catching my nod toward Doc. Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole.
“And me.” Doc groaned and slid his pack off his shoulders and sank down onto it. “How far have we come?”
Hank looked up at the sun, which had finally peeked through an hour or so ago, and glanced back the way we’d come. His eyes became vague as he
