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Chapter 399: Chapter 397: Survival

“We should expand from here and try to compact the surrounding snow so it won’t easily collapse.”

Inside the pit, Yao Jun, following Bi Fang’s instructions, labored to scoop snow as Jerret threw it out behind him. Soon, a small mound of snow began to accumulate in the enclosed space.

After about ten minutes, Yao Jun’s hands relaxed, and he collapsed into the pit, his tongue hanging out as he panted heavily. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva and said, “I can’t do it, I really can’t. It’s too narrow, my back’s about to break. Let’s switch, somebody else take over.”

Hearing this, Jerret crawled out of the pit and pulled Yao Jun out after him, while Bi Fang took over the headlamp and peered inside.

“How long have you been digging? It doesn’t seem like there’s much change. Even a dog could dig faster than you.”

Yao Jun bit his glove and threw it aside: “I really can’t anymore, the position is too taxing. Digging snow like this, I’m worn out.”

“I’ll take over.” Rob put on the gloves and crawled into the hole, followed by Danzeng who continued to dig out the snow, and the pile inside kept growing.

As Yao Jun took out an Energy Bar from his chest pocket, he refused it, mumbling unclearly, “Why not make the hole bigger?”

“If it’s larger, it’s more likely to collapse.” Bi Fang too sat down beside him, pulled out an Energy Gel and slurped it into his mouth. The cold Energy Gel glided into his stomach, and soon enough, he could feel warmth spreading to his limbs, and his stiff muscles felt much better.

Compared to Energy Bars, Energy Gels are easier to digest and provide heat to the body more quickly.

“I saw the snow shelters you built before were much larger than this. How come they didn’t collapse?”

“Firstly, I’ve never built an ice-house; it was a snow cave in Mohe, got it? Snow caves, snow houses, ice-houses—these are three different things that take progressively longer to build and are of increasing quality. A good ice-house may take a whole day to figure out, while a simple snow cave could be done in a couple of hours. But even the simplest snow cave is built with compacted snow throughout, so of course, it’s more stable.”

Everyone was buried in dry snow, and even just compacting a circle around was difficult; if the internal space was slightly larger, it would be prone to collapse.

“Look at this place, it’s round. A round structure has greater strength, like an egg, that’s why it can be so large and still not collapse. Moreover, the Eagle Head Ice Slope is propping it up like a roof beam.”

Bi Fang looked up, and the headlamp illuminated the interior. The audience could clearly see the round space with the eagle’s head and body of the Eagle Head Ice Slope supporting a large area of snow.

“Eh, so it looks like we got lucky. I wonder how the others are doing, probably not well.”

Indeed, while the Eagle Head Ice Slope is not uncommon, how many could have taken refuge beneath it before the avalanche? And considering the many cracks in the Khumbu Glacier, even escaping requires caution or one might tumble into a crevasse and face a near-certain death…

As Rob was digging, he heard the conversation behind him, and his actions slowed. Yes, what about the others?

His friend Wessels had set off with their team, possibly not even a hundred meters behind them, yet facing a dramatically different fate.

Making the sign of the cross over his chest, Rob swept the snow from beneath him out of the way.

Hope to God for protection.

In the gloomy ice cave, a figure was huddled and trembling.

Wessels rested his head against the ice wall, breathing heavily, his breath quickly condensing into frost on the smooth ice surface.

Cold, an unprecedented chill. His body cooled inch by inch with every breath, signaling the loss of warmth. Hypothermia crept over him, and in the quiet of the crevasse, the ticking of his wristwatch was audible, each minute and second a passing of life.

“Cough, cough, cough, cough.”

It felt as if something was stuck in his throat. Wessels coughed forcefully; a warm, rust-flavored clump was expelled. Looking down, the beam of his headlamp revealed clumps of dark blood clinging to his black gloves.

Ten minutes earlier, as the avalanche struck, nobody could hear Wessels’ commands. In panic, they untied their ropes and scattered in all directions.

Unlike Bi Fang’s team, where instinct took command amid chaos, even the brain would reflexively seal off external information. Hence, Bi Fang didn’t waste any words; he grabbed the rope and forcefully took over their thinking with his most decisive actions.

Although Wessels was experienced in mountaineering, he clearly hadn’t faced many life-and-death crises. It was already a challenge for him to stay composed; he couldn’t lead everyone through danger decisively and confidently like Bi Fang. With the slightest slip, he lost control over his team members, whose instincts fully kicked in like a group of frightened rabbits scattering in every direction.

Having no choice, Wessels could only flee for his life, but he hadn’t gone far when the ground beneath his feet gave way, and he plunged into darkness. Wessels’s face then violently smashed against the ground.

During the fall, Wessels instinctively extended his right hand, trying to stab his axe into the ice to slow his descent. However, the weight of his rapidly falling body yanked his arm out of its socket, leaving behind a mass of shattered bones and torn soft tissue.

The crashing tumble stopped with the sound of bones cracking.

“I’m going to die,” Wessels thought.

“Maybe I’m already dead,” he thought again.

He could feel his lungs heaving, struggling to pull in air. Each breath brought a wave of intense pain.

Looking down, he saw his legs hanging in mid-air. He had landed on an ice shelf suspended in the darkness above, with a pallid blue-white halo over his head. He couldn’t move.

But for the moment, he was alive.

The existence of his left hand was completely gone, along with, perhaps, many broken ribs. Who knew how deep the crevasse really was?

Now, his greatest wish was for a cup of hot coffee.

Looking around, Wessels realized he wasn’t on a platform carved out of the crevasse but on a chunk of ice that had fallen down and got stuck between the walls.

In the ever-shifting, changing Khumbu Glacier, how long would it maintain its wedge shape?

Wessels’s body swayed slightly as he tested his limits. Every movement sent agony throughout his body, making him dizzy and making every breath excruciating. Touching his face, he found that the wounds on his eyes and forehead were frozen, temporarily stopping the bleeding.

It took Wessels almost ten minutes to sit upright and twist himself onto a safe perch on the block of ice.

Simple movements left him gasping for breath, the icy air gushing out from the depths of the glacier. His body was trembling, and his fingers were icing up, quickly turning numb.

He reached into his chest with his right hand and pulled out his phone.

No signal.

The layer of snow was too thick, or maybe the crevasse was too deep. There was no signal on the phone.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Waiting for rescue was out of the question; with his current status, it wouldn’t be long before he’d freeze to death, or fall and die.

Above Wessels, the snow was soft; the air in the crevasse had condensed on the walls, leaving a surface with the consistency of cream.

The width of the crevasse was about two and a half meters, but looking to the right, Wessels saw that on the left, the crevasse seemed to narrow. If he was lucky enough, it might be narrow enough that he could “chimney climb” upwards, or wedge his body in the crevasse, climbing up with just one hand.

With his still functioning right hand, Wessels placed an axe at eye level and dragged his feet to the right, kicking the ice crampons into the ice, then reached over his body with the same hand, placing the other axe as far to the left as possible. When he grabbed the first axe, shifted his weight, and then reached for the second axe with his right hand, the pain made him scream, but he had to endure it.

But when Wessels looked down, his headlamp cast a deep blue light. In the light, the familiar silhouette took him aback.

“Wessels, Wessels, is that you?”

“Wessels!”