Betrayed at Forty Below

Not long after, the anemometer outside the tent blared—a level ten wind warning.

Melvin stormed in, ripped the sat phone out of my hands, eyes wild.

"You? Did you call for help?" he snapped. "Do you even get what happens when a rescue team gets deployed? The whole climb's done! I've prepped a year for this!"

He didn't even look at me—didn't see how pale I was, how bad I was shaking.

"You went behind my back?" he shouted. "Trying to ruin me now?"

He grabbed me so hard, my stiff body slammed against the icy rock wall—and whatever warmth I had left disappeared.

I curled up, trying to get some feeling back in my feet. My voice came out weak. "The blizzard's getting worse. We could get buried any second. This isn't your backyard. I'm already hypothermic—what's so wrong with asking for help?"

Before Melvin could answer, Sally peeked out of my sleeping bag, all soft-voiced. "Peyton, don't take this the wrong way, but aren't you supposed to be a seasoned climber? Can't handle a little cold without crying rescue?"

She gave a tiny sigh. "If this gets out, we'll be a joke.

"And you know how much this climb means to Melvin. It's his final shot before the promotion. You really wanna blow all that?

"Are you seriously falling apart over this? Or does his future just not matter to you?"

She sounded sweet—but every word sliced.

Melvin's other buddies—here to "witness his success"—all turned on me.

"Peyton, you're so selfish. It's always about YOU."

"Yeah, we're a team. Melvin said you're the fittest one here. You can handle it."

The cold burned my lungs, but their words cut deeper.

I yanked up my pant leg, showing my ankles—already bruised and turning purple.

"Are you blind? My feet are frostbitten. Still think I'm being dramatic?"

Silence. Total dead air. Except Sally, still curled in Melvin's arms.

"So what if they are?" Melvin said. "Doesn't mean the world owes you anything."