As you sink into the snow, your heat begins to drain away at an alarming rate. A stray thought says you should start being scared, but fear is a concept that floats somewhere beyond your immediate reach, like that numb hand lying naked in the snow. You've slid into the temperature range at which cold renders the enzymes in your brain less efficient. When your core temperature reaches 93, amnesia nibbles at your consciousness. You check your watch: 12:58. Maybe someone will come looking for you soon. Read more ...

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[Interview with the author]
Death Becomes Him

Booknoise: If you had to choose for yourself one of the deaths described in this book, what would it be? Scurvy? Malaria? The bends?