Monster Girl Mountain
Edward Lang
Copyright © 2020 by Edward Lang
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
1
The mountains stretched out in front of us, covered in snow and ice.
Our helicopter was so high up that everything looked like a model train landscape. You know, the fake mountains and valleys that hardcore hobbyists create for their toy train tracks. Streams made of plastic… mountains made of plaster… trees made of pipe cleaner…
Of course, model trains were a hobby more from my grandfather’s generation. I didn’t know a single goddamn guy who had a train set today.
Funny, though… seeing as it had been my day job for years, I knew a lot of guys who went into punishing conditions where they might die, then tried to get out of them without dying. That was our brand of fun.
To each their own.
Of course, I wasn’t coming out here to have fun.
I was coming out here to get away.
To not have to deal.
To forget.
Best place in the world to do it.
In a situation where one misplaced footstep could kill you, you couldn’t exactly dwell on coulda shoulda’s.
That came after.
If you made it out alive.
It was a beautiful, sunny day. A big storm had passed through and grounded me for 24 hours in Anchorage, but now the sky was deep blue and the snow was pristine.
A fuckin’ winter wonderland.
Our helicopter was flying out of a small town near Denali National Park. I specifically hired a company I’d never used before, hoping they wouldn’t know who I was.
No such luck.
The pilot kept looking at me as I loaded up my gear, like he was trying to place me but couldn’t.
Halfway through the flight, he finally did.
“Hey, you’re that survival guy, right?” he asked excitedly over the headsets we wore to communicate over the chopper noise. “You used to have a TV show? Survive, or something?”
It was actually Survive! with an exclamation point.
“Yeah,” I said, staring out the window.
“It went off a year back, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
I lost the only woman I ever loved.
“Low ratings,” I lied.
“Oh, sorry, man. Say, what was the craziest thing you ever – ”
I put up a hand to stop him. “Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but I don’t really wanna talk right now.”
The pilot chuckled. “You’re goin’ off on a three-week trip to climb mountains and glaciers and freeze your ass off – alone – and you don’t wanna talk? Better get it while the gettin’s good, man.”
“There’s a reason I’m going off for three weeks by myself.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“To not talk.”
No more talking.
That’s all I wanted. Just for a while. To get past the one-year anniversary.
No more phone calls from well-meaning friends. How’re you holding up, Jack?
No more emails from my old producer. We can start the show back up again whenever you want, Jack. But take your time, take all the time you need.
No more having to hear the stupidest goddamn words in the world: She’s in a better place now.
The place she left – being here with me – was perfect as it was.
But the pilot kept jabbering, and talking, and going on and on and on. “Can I ask you just one quick question? See, I got this idea for a TV show – ”
“I’m paying you to fly me someplace, not make conversation,” I snapped.
The guy looked at me like Jesus, what’s THIS guy’s problem? “Just tryin’ to be friendly.”
“Well, now you don’t have to try anymore.”
“…okay… whatever,” the guy said.
I thought I heard him mutter under his breath, “Fuck you, too.”
Or maybe I just got it from his tone.
Didn’t matter.
At least he shut up for the rest of the trip.
2
We set down on an icy shelf where I planned to make camp.
As I unloaded the helicopter, the pilot finally broke his silence. He hadn’t spoken in ten minutes except to ask me where to land.
“What are you planning to do up here for three weeks?” he asked.
“Moose’s Tooth,” I said.
It was a peak on the east side of the Ruth Gorge. Despite being a fairly low elevation, it was a difficult climb, and one I hadn’t done on my show. We’d planned it for Season 5, and then… shit happened.
The pilot frowned. “It’s gonna take you three weeks to go up and down?”
“No. It’s got lots of faces. I’m going to do as many as I can before I leave.”
“Kind of dangerous, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“Is it really a good idea to be out here climbing it alone, then?”
“Nope.”
“Aren’t you afraid of not coming back?”
“Nope.”
Actually, if I did buy it out here, that’d be fine by me.
I would go out doing what I loved… and I wouldn’t have grief gnawing at my guts anymore.
“Guess this is you not wanting to make conversation again, huh,” the pilot said.
“Yup.”
“Alright.”
I finished unloading my supplies, and then the pilot climbed back into the chopper.
The last thing he said before he started up the engines was, “Don’t die.”
I just nodded grimly and got out far enough away from the wash of the chopper’s blades.
Then he took off and soared away.
That was the last human being I ever saw.
Well… for quite a while, anyway.
I set up my tent and laid out my supplies. All the regular gear – a climbing harness, ropes, pitons, ice axes, belay devices, a NITRO 3 energy absorber in case of a fall, and so on and so forth.
I also had basic survival gear with me: a foldable knife… a Craftsman tool with every damn extension you could think
