Staredown
He broods.
The mountain broods back.
The mountain wins.
It always wins. It has more time, more patience. It's harder than he'll ever be. He can feel himself dashed to pieces against it. It has all the time in the world. Time to kill . . . it didn't even notice when it killed her.
He didn't go to her funeral. He should have gone . . . he wanted to go . . . but he didn't dare turn his back, not while the killer was lurking out there. He was trapped – and he's still trapped up here, stuck in a staring contest with an intractable, unrepentant killer.