"Let's close the trails right now and get as many people off as we can," Chris said quickly.

"Yes, but what about South Rim, McKenna. What if they reached the Nevada Trail, there's not enough time."

"Matt, call Bobby and try Greg again. Roger, when Hatcher gets here, have him and Matt close Elk Meadow and Lake Trail. If skiers are on Ridge Trail, they'll have enough time to get back down, but you need to have someone ski the trail to make sure. I'll take Bobby and we'll head up South Rim," she said.

"Okay. It's a plan, at least. When Bobby gets here, you head out. There's only the four we're really worried about. Right?"

Chris gripped his arm hard and squeezed.

"Right, Roger. It's going to be okay."

"Damn, McKenna, I hate days like this," he said and he ran hands through his already unruly hair.

Bobby arrived with his full pack within fifteen minutes, but there was still no word from Greg. Chris thought how ironic it would be if they ended up searching for Greg as well.

She grabbed a fresh radio, then led Bobby to the back room to add ropes to their packs and get the folding aluminum rack. Just in case, she told herself.

"Keep in touch, McKenna."

"Don't worry, Roger. We'll be fine. Just take care of things down here."

They left, with Bobby strapping the aluminum rack to his pack and Chris taking the extra rope. Their packs weighed more than forty pounds with the added gear—no easy feat on skis. They posted the closed sign at the trailhead and checked the sign-in sheet. Of the thirteen, six had signed out.

They started out, both looking up at the sky, already steel gray with a heavy overcast. The wind was steady, not gusting, but the temperature was barely twenty degrees.

"Man, I'm not looking forward to this," Bobby said as he lowered his eyes from the sky.

"Me either. I'd rather be sitting by the fire with a bottle of rum," she said. "And, you know, maybe some female company." She pushed off with her skis, trying to set a rhythm.

They followed the tracks made by the other skiers and had barely rounded the first hill when two skiers approached. They stopped and waited.

"Looks like a storm coming," one of them said. "Better not head up."

"We're Search and Rescue," Chris said. "Where were you headed when you signed in?"

"Nevada Trail," the other man said. "But there's a skier up there that got separated from his buddy. We were on our way to the ranger station."

Chris and Bobby exchanged glances.

"He's up at the split where the trail becomes the Nevada Trail."

"I'll radio it in. Stay off the mountain. It'll be snowing like hell in an hour."

"Yeah. We're done for the day. But that guy, he's plenty scared."

"We're on our way up," Bobby said.

They watched the skiers go down, then Chris radioed Roger with the news.

"Be careful, McKenna. Keep an eye to the sky."

"Ten-four."

"Easy for him to say," Bobby mumbled.

They trudged slowly up the trail until it leveled off, then continued following the tracks. They wove their way in and out of the trees, up and down hills, all the time maintaining a quick pace. They both knew that if they had any hope of finding the skier, they must do it before the snow started. Tracks would be covered up quickly in even a light snowstorm and this promised to be anything but light.

They stopped once to catch their breath and to check their progress. The junction of the South Rim and Nevada Trail was still two miles away. Chris pushed her parka sleeve up and looked at her watch. One-thirty. They had made good time. She looked at the sky, and as if by doing so, the clouds opened up and the first snow flakes fluttered down around them.

"Shit," she said and pulled her gloves on again. "Let's go."

"I don't like this, McKenna," Bobby said as he, too, looked up at the sky. It was a dark gray, with swirling clouds hanging low on the mountain. It looked like it could burst open at any moment and engulf them.

"I know, but we gotta hurry."

They kept up their even pace as the snow fell lightly around them. The wind had not picked up, thankfully, and they covered the next two miles in near silence. Standing alone, waving at them, was the skier. He slid down the trail to them, nearly wiping them out as he tried to stop.

"Are you rangers?" he asked breathlessly.

"Search and Rescue," Chris said.

"Thank God. I didn't know what to do. It looks like a storm."

"No shit," Bobby said. "We can't waste time. Where did you split up?"

"At the trail up there," he said, pointing.

"Why?"

"We weren't sure which one to take. We didn't have a trail map," he said, glancing at them both.

"Jesus," Chris murmured. "What time?"

"About eleven, I think. Maybe a little later."

"You were both going to take a trail and ski back to meet up?"

"Yeah. We wanted to take the Nevada Trail but we didn't know the way."

"Okay," Chris said. "What's his name?"

"Kenny. Kenny Walker. We're staying at the lodge."

"What color is his jacket?"

"It's blue. Bright blue, just a little ski jacket."

Chris nodded. It was warmer this morning and sunny. They would not have thought to wear heavy parkas.

"Okay. We're going to look for him. You've got to get off the mountain. There's a hell of a storm coming. You've maybe only got a half-hour before it hits full force. Is it your car parked down there or his?"

"It's his."

"Great. And I don't suppose you have keys to it?"

He shook his head.

She pulled a glove off and dug in her pockets, fishing out the keys to her Jeep.

"Take my Jeep. Drive it to the ranger station. I'll radio in and tell them you're coming down."

"Don't you think I should go with you and look for him?"

"No. Now get down as fast as you can."

"But Kenny, I can't just leave him."

"We'll find him. We don't have time to look out for you, too. Now, get your ass down the mountain."

He looked at Bobby, as if for help, but Bobby motioned for him to go. They watched him ski off and Chris unhooked her radio and called to the station.

"This is Kay, McKenna. Everyone's out."

"Ten-four. Listen, we're at the junction to Nevada Trail. We sent a skier down. His partner is not accounted for. He was last seen heading east on Nevada Trail. Kay, he'll be driving my Jeep. I told him to go there so you'll know he made it down safely."

"Ten-four."

She hooked her radio back on her belt, then with a glance at Bobby, headed out. The Nevada Trail started out going downhill, which could fool you if you didn't have a map. She could see how the skiers thought this trail might take them down the mountain. Actually, it went downhill until it crossed a small stream, then went abruptly back uphill into the forest and beyond. If you stayed on it long enough, you'd end up at Lake Tahoe.

They were still following tracks, the light snow not enough to cover them yet, but they had no way of knowing if these were from their skier or the two that had already made it down. Most likely, they were from all three. The trail was marked, but some of the triangle markers were covered with snow, or the branches of the trees, now heavy with snow, were covering them. Without a map and compass, it would just be guesswork.

They crossed the stream and headed slowly up the hill. They were both tired and they stopped to catch their breath. Chris pulled off her wool cap and dusted the snow off, then put it back on and pulled it over her ears. She watched their frosty breath and wondered how cold it was. She had a small thermometer tied to her pack and she turned around, her back to Bobby.

"What's the temp?" she asked.

"Shit, it's already down to fifteen, McKenna."

Their eyes met, both worried. They started on up the trail again, their thighs aching. When they reached the top, they were able to see to the west and they stared out over the mountains. Dark, dark clouds, swollen with snow, hung heavily over the trees and as they watched, the wind increased, swirling around them, flinging icy snowflakes onto their faces.

Chris shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. She was putting their own lives in danger by staying out here, but out here they were. Even if they started back now, they would never make it down the mountain before the heart of the storm hit. They would have to find shelter somewhere, but she would worry about that later. Right now, they had to find the skier and hope that hypothermia had not taken him already.

"Let's hurry, Bobby. You check to the left, I'll take the right."

He nodded and they set out, both keeping their eyes on the side of the trail, looking for any sign of their skier. Another half-hour and the tracks they were following would be covered. Then, it would be only sheer luck if they found him.

They moved quickly over the snow, their skis sliding easily over the fresh powder. The trail was level here as it headed into the forest again. Chris's radio crackled seconds before Roger's voice called for her. They stopped and she quickly unhooked her radio and answered.

"We've got everything closed down here, McKenna. What's your ten-twenty?" he asked.

"We're probably three miles into the Nevada Trail. Maybe more." She looked at Bobby with raised eyebrows. It was hard to tell how far they were. Their usual landmarks were now buried in snow.

"I don't like it, McKenna. It's getting nasty down here."

"Yeah, the same here."