Higher Ground by Becky Black (most read books of all time .txt) 📕

back, hiking pole in hand; Tuzo’s head stuck up out of the backpack as usual. Others gathered as Zach and Adam helped each other on with their packs. They waited, subdued. Again they wanted some words from Zach, and he didn’t know if he had any that weren’t sodden with grief, guilt, and failure.

“Thank you for having faith in me.”

Ah, those words worked. People murmured but in an agreeing way, not complaining.

“We have to go on. I know your thoughts are with our friends who’ve chosen to turn back. But we have to think of the children we’re responsible for. The others have made their choice. We’ve made ours.”

Could he really expect them to harden their hearts to the fates of their friends? They had to. He had to.

“The climb is getting harder. But you’re all strong. Not only in body but in mind. You haven’t given up because you’re tired or you hurt. You can make it all the way, I’m sure of it.”

He saw some of them looking past him, doubtful looks at the mountain rising up behind him. Could they all make it? Perhaps not. But the rescue ships would come soon. They had to come soon.

“Let’s go.”

He turned and led the way. Adam fell into step at his side. “Good speech,” he said quietly.

“I’m starting to run out of stirring words.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“Fine? I just lost half the group!” People looked at him when he almost shouted, and he lowered his voice again. “Half of them have gone back. How am I doing fine?”

“Half of them stayed. Frankly, I’m impressed it’s this many. I thought we’d be down to about ten by now.”

“Oh. You didn’t think I could keep them together.”

“Not because of you, dummy, because of them. People are fine hiking for a couple of days; then they get to missing their routines and their beds. The kids get that way fastest, but the grown-ups get there eventually.”

“I see. Do you think the rest of them will turn back too?”

Adam shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ll tell you what I know. Jones is all mouth, and when his group realize that, they’ll be back.”

“And if it’s too late by then?”

“You said it yourself. They made their choice.”

Zach turned away so Adam couldn’t see his stricken expression.

“Keep being sure, Zach. That’s what’s keeping us all with you, the fact you’re sure about your prediction.”

Was he still sure? One hundred percent? No—he had to allow the possibility he might be wrong. But admitting it to Jones had cost him half the group.

“I know it goes against your scientific principles,” Adam went on. “Maybe even makes you feel like a fanatic or something. But don’t let anyone see a moment of doubt.”

Zach squared his jaw and his shoulders, resolute, trying to give off an aura of certainty. Adam grinned.

“If the wind changes, your face will stay that way.”

“What?”

“Just something my mom says when I’m pouting. Stop trying to look like Napoleon. Your face doesn’t suit being all stern and frowny. It’s more thoughtful. Dreamy even.” Adam stopped and laughed, blushing. “What am I talking about?”

Zach didn’t know, but he could listen to it all day. “I’m trying to look like, well, a leader, I suppose. Everyone’s expecting that of me.” He glanced over his shoulder and grimaced at the reduced size of the group following.

“I don’t think they’re expecting you to be a general. Don’t try to change too much from the Zach we knew down there.” He gestured back into the basin. “Because then they’ll know it’s fake. And they’ll start worrying about what you’re covering up with it.”

“I see. Good point, yes.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “It doesn’t come naturally to me, I’m afraid. I feel like I’m playing a part.”

“Remember what I said before. You’ve got backup.”

Zach smiled at him. “Thank you, Adam. I wouldn’t have got even this far without you.”

Adam winked and gave him a wicked smirk. “We’ll discuss later how you can show your gratitude.”

Chapter Sixteen

The rain started right after lunch. Zach looked up and sighed as the big drops began to patter on the brim of his hat.

“I guess we’ve been lucky so far,” Adam said, catching up to him and falling into step. “Had to get some rain eventually.”

Zach glanced back, slackening his pace when he saw people had stopped or slowed down to take out hats and coats. “This will make things harder. The climb is already steeper, now the rain.”

“It might just be a shower,” Adam said. “Might stop any minute.”

But the clouds above looked heavy and dark gray and full of enough rain to last the rest of the day and well into the night.

“I hope you’re right.”

Because of the rain, they couldn’t have a campfire that night. People stuck with their tents and did the best they could for dinner with cold food or camping stoves. Afterward, there was none of the mixing and talking that usually went on postsupper. People took to their tents and their sleeping bags.

Zach headed for the tent while Adam was still talking to people. Rain drummed on the tent’s exterior, but nothing came inside. It was cold, but once Adam joined him, he intended to generate some heat. He smiled but then groaned when he zipped the two sleeping bags together. His aching back, legs, and feet conspired to undermine his determination to make love to Adam tonight. The steeper slope, or simply so many days of unaccustomed exercise, had caught up with him and started extracting a heavy price. He flopped onto his back on the sleeping bag and groaned again just as Adam came in.

“All squared away for the night,” he reported. “First watch is in place. We’re taking the two till four shift later.” He stopped and frowned. “You okay?”

“Every part of me hurts. Including my hair.”

Adam grinned. “Ah, yes. A couple of days of walking is fine, but after that, if you’re out of shape—”

“I am not out of shape,” Zach