“Charlie!”
The words echoed in his ears. But in the thin air, it didn’t sound like Ang at all. It sounded sweet and soft, tantalizing. Funny how he still remembered her voice. There’d been so many other women since Eve, women he’d easily forgotten. Yet she was still there, indelibly imprinted into his brain.
Charlie stared down the route of their descent, his footprints still visible in the snow. He still had to get down the mountain and he knew the dangers. Fatigue, the weather, cerebral edema, snow blindness, avalanches, crevices that could swallow a man in the blink of an eye. A successful ascent didn’t guarantee a safe descent. But what was waiting for him at the bottom? Would anyone really care that he’d made it up to the top and back again?
Did she even remember him? Did she think of him at all or had the passion they’d shared been replaced by the love she felt for…hell, what was his name? Dave? Dan? Odd that he couldn’t remember. She’d married him, chosen security and dependability over uncertainty. He hadn’t blamed her for making the safe choice. She deserved better than a man who warmed her bed every six months in between adventures.
“Charlie! Move. We head down.”
“I’m thinking I might stay here,” he said, sitting down in the snow.
“Get ass up!” Ang shouted, grabbing his arm and tugging. “I not leave you here. You walk down or I carry. Kill us both.”
“Who’s waiting for you?” Charlie asked.
Ang reached for Charlie’s oxygen bottle and turned up the flow, then held the mask over his face. “Breathe. Clear head.”
“I’m perfectly clear,” Charlie said, waving him off. “Do you have a wife, kids?”
“Wife,” Ang muttered. “We marry last year.”
“And she’s all right with this? She doesn’t mind that you tramp up and down Mount Everest.”
“This my last trip. We have baby. I tell wife, no more. I save money from many climbs, we open laundry in Namche. We have happy life. Grow old together.” He held out his arm and pointed to his watch, strapped over his sleeve. “See? We leave now. You move or I roll you down to base camp.”