Chapter 23: The Avalanche Clears — Rescue Arrives and Forces a Choice

The sound came at six forty-seven.

Not an explosion. Not the dramatic crack of ice giving way that one read about in newspaper accounts of mountain rescues. It was subtler than that — a long, low compression, as though the train itself had exhaled after holding its breath for eleven hours, and then the particular mechanical signature of diesel equipment working at distance, and then, through the porthole glass above the berth, an orange light moving in the dark.

Blackwell put down his pen. He had three pages of the report remaining.