He rested there, panting, and finally examined his surroundings. The snowy ground stretched into a valley before him, flanked by two mountains that rose toward the clouds. A frozen lake lay in the center of the valley, the snow-dusted ice a deep blue. Beyond that, the ground rose in yet another rocky incline.
The enormity of his situation hit him. He was alone, somewhere in the middle of the Himalayas. The mountain range stretched hundreds of miles. His leg was fractured, probably broken. He could barely walk, had no food. All he was wearing for warmth was a thin hoodie already soaked through from the snow.
It was hopeless.
He was going to die here.
He lay in the cold snow, accepting his fate. He’d tried. For the first time in his life, he had really, truly tried. But he’d failed. The Supers were fractured. Calico reigned supreme. His plan, whatever it was, would come to fruition. Once he found the stone, he’d be unstoppable. Maybe he would torture the information out of Rocky and Katie before he killed them. Would they break? James smiled slightly, despite himself, the snow cool against his lips. Rocky was one of the most stubborn people he knew. As he always said, Deny till you die.
James’s smile faltered. Rocky and Katie. They were going to die. It was James’s fault. He’d roped them into this. Katie, at least, worked for Derek, so she had a stake in this. But Rocky? He was completely innocent. His only fault was being a loyal friend who had dropped everything, at a moment’s notice, to come on this crazy quest. James had failed him. He’d failed Rocky. He’d failed Katie. He’d failed Derek.
No.
He wouldn’t.
He sat up in the snow. How he did it, he’d never know. Something awoke in him, something deeper than any want or desire, deeper than pain or emotion. He sat up. And then he stood.
With a lurch, he began to amble forward, his leg protesting with every step, pain shooting deep in the bone. The cold seeped into his clothes, tearing into his skin, numbing his whole body. But he walked. Despite it all, he walked.
Just get to the top of this ridge. Then you can stop.
He crossed the frozen lake and began picking his way up the rocky incline, using his one good leg and his hands to pull himself along. The going was slow. Excruciatingly slow. But he moved. Each step was a step forward.
Soon he reached the top of the ridge. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. It felt like someone was squeezing him, compressing his lungs. He stood unsteadily on a rock and surveyed the land before him.
More mountains stretched into the distance, their uneven peaks acting as guideposts on an endless path. Directly below him was a long plateau that ran toward the base of the closest mountain, its surface craggy and uneven but walkable. Crossing it with one good leg would be a new lesson in pain. James had told himself that all he had to do was get to this ridge. Then he could stop. He’d already gone farther than should’ve been possible.
I bet I can get to the base of that mountain.
He moved. Somehow, he moved. He made his way across the long plateau. How long he walked, he didn’t know. His mind was elsewhere, in a void of its own making. The mountains, the snow, everything fell into the background, becoming unreal, a painting he walked past with little interest. He just had to keep moving. Nothing else mattered.
His leg throbbed and he stumbled on an uneven rock, but he steadied himself and kept moving.
For Rocky.
A cold wind whipped him, cutting through his thin hoodie. It reached to his very core, numbing his skin, his bones, his soul. His hands felt like stones, his fingers immobile. He wanted to curl into a ball on the ground, find any warmth he could. But he kept walking.
For Katie.
He reached the base of the mountain. It emerged from his blurred mind, an impossible achievement. How much time had passed? Hours, maybe. He gazed up toward the peak. It loomed before him, the tallest thing in the world. At that moment, the mountain was everything. There was nowhere else to go. The plateau ended in a sheer cliff.
“Just give up, Bolt,” James said aloud. His cracked lips barely moved.
There was one path, to the left of the mountain. It rose upward, but it wasn’t as steep as the mountain itself. Where it led, James didn’t know. But it was the only way forward. So he went forward.
For Derek.
Into the mountains. Up and up he went. He wanted to go down. Warmth was down. Civilization was down. But all he could do was go up.
The sky grew darker behind the clouds. He couldn’t see the sun, but he knew it would be nearing the horizon. Almost night. Would he survive a cold, windy night out here?
Only one way to find out.
Eventually, the path began to slope down. Good. Down was progress.
The clouds cleared as night fell, showing a blue-green sky that darkened with each passing minute. Stars began to wink above him. The few sparse pine trees shivered with each gust of wind. He kept his hands under his armpits, but it didn’t help much. When he glanced at his fingertips, he saw they were black. Frostbite. It would spread. And quickly.
Still, he walked. Now he was on a small ridge overlooking another valley. His leg dragged more than ever. It was dead weight, a club he struggled to carry. His pace slowed even more. Soon, he figured, he would freeze mid-stride, a statue. One more step. One more—
He fell to his knees.
It happened out of nowhere. One moment, he was up and walking, focusing on each step, and the next, he was kneeling in the
