Max felt his body temperature dropping. Now that he was standing still, the pounding rain was sucking the heat out of him. He busied himself by attending to Jordan. His pulse was still weak. Max checked it every thirty seconds, ready to perform CPR if it stopped. In the meantime, he tried to keep his patient warm. He rubbed Jordan’s hands and fitted his own hat over his head. Then he removed his waterproof jacket and laid it over Jordan. That meant Max would grow colder faster. But Jordan’s need was greater.

Max looked around. How would mountain rescue find them? Max had only managed to give them the sketchiest idea of their position.

He heard it before he saw it. A distant, regular beat of rotary blades. The wind and rain made it difficult to tell which direction it was coming from. But then he saw a kind of shadow in the clouds, descending from the north. He stood up quickly and started to wave his hands above his head. Movement, he knew, was what the helicopter pilot needed to spot him. He shouted as loudly as he could – ‘Over here!’ – even though he knew he wouldn’t be heard.

There was nowhere nearby for the bright orange chopper to land. It hovered about twenty metres above them, buffeted by the high winds. The side door opened and a figure appeared. He wore an orange hard hat and a harness. Attached to a rope, he lowered himself down next to them. ‘Is he alive?’ he shouted.

‘Yes!’

‘Good. Help me!’ He unclipped himself from the rope and removed a fabric stretcher from his pack. It had straps and several ropes attached to either side. The ends of the ropes were attached to two carabiners, one on each side. ‘Get this under him!’ he bellowed.

Max helped the rescue guy manoeuvre the stretcher underneath Jordan. Once it was in position, he rolled Jordan on to his back again. The rescue guy strapped Jordan in, then clipped the carabiners to the dangling ropes. He made a thumbs-up sign. Instantly, Jordan was in the air. He swung precariously as he was winched up, but a few seconds later he was safely inside the helicopter.

The rescue guy looked up the slope. ‘You abseiled down that?’

Max nodded.

‘You’re crazy. You could have killed yourself.’ He gave Max an uncertain look. ‘Where did you learn to do it?’

‘A book,’ Max said.

The rescue guy shook his head incredulously. But by now the rope had descended again, lashing violently in the wind. The rescue guy grabbed it and clipped it to his harness, then to Max’s. ‘Hold tight,’ he shouted. Max gripped the rescue guy’s shoulders and they rose into the air. Seconds later they were being manhandled into the helicopter.