A Man of the Mountain - Light of the Morning [2 of 2]

Chapter was too long, so I had to split it up. Link to Part 1: https://www.abctales.com/story/macashton/man-mountain-light-morning

Mansen was slick with sweat despite the cold, barking at anybody who bothered to distract him from the monumental task of putting one foot in front of the other. Cameras buzzed around him like flies, no doubt shooting footage that would later be cut to preserve Mansen’s pristine reputation. Next to him was a young woman with a map, looking far less exhausted and far more excited.

     “How much farther?” he panted at her.

     “We should be about halfway to the falls by now.”

     The trails were still clear, but on the sides, the crew began to see piles of snow from the last storm. The farther up they got, the more snowpack there would be and the harder the hike was going to get. Unfortunately, the trails also got steeper just before the falls.  

     “Halfway?” Mansen sounded defeated.

     “Well, it’s about to get a lot harder if this storm keeps up,” said Nick jovially, jogging to the front of the line.

     “Jesus Christ, why are you here?”

     “I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell you, Mansen, I might be better than you, but I am not the son of—”

     “Shut it. I don’t have time for your childish games today.”

     A cameraman moved up close beside them, wanting to capture the confrontation.

     “Well, you see,” started Nick, and then Shirley cut in.

     “At the rate this storm is moving, we’re going to be stuck in a full-on blizzard by nightfall.”

     “Well it’s a good thing we brought all this gear then,” huffed Mansen.

     Shirley scowled. “I don’t think you understand. Most people would turn back—”

     Mansen let out a superior laugh, cold and high, echoing off the trees around them. “Clearly you’ve never operated on a schedule, Ms. Codwell. I don’t suspect the tabloid enforces them.”

     Shirley balled her fist up, ready to strike him. The cameraman zoomed to it.

     “No, we are not turning around, we are nearly there. If it’s going to snow, then we’ll find the beast in a whiteout. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. Now, kindly fuck off to somewhere that isn’t next to me.”

     Shirley was ready to argue more, but Nick pulled her back. Together they waited for the line to pass and once more began to bring up the rear.

     “So, we’ve got what we need to survive the storm?” asked Nick, looking for reassurance.

     “Yes, but it won’t be comfortable. Do we have what we need to survive whatever is out there?”

     Nick began counting his fingers and mumbling something about holy powder.

     “Nick?”

     He looked up as if completely forgetting the question.

     “Can we survive it?”

     “Probably!” he exclaimed. “Better odds than I have most of the time anyway.” He rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Oh, this is going to be fun. I love camping.”