Step, step . . .
“Hold on, guy,” Jack shouted. “Almost to you.”
The head tilted up, slowly, in jerky moves. A face. Scared eyes. Dark hair. Pony tail. He looked Native American.
“I’m coming to you. You don’t have to do a thing. Stay where you are.”
Twenty five feet.
Jack studied the ledge. Tiny—a few feet wide at most. Either direction from where he sat—ten feet or so—the ledge was wider. Scalloped edges. A piece of the ledge must have broken off sometime in the past. The guy must have gotten halfway through the gap and froze.
A few feet. “Almost there.”
The man shivered, his back to what was likely cool wall. Hands behind him, fingers in cracks, he had his knees at his chin, his feet set close.
Jack keyed his radio. “Slow.” He looked up and watched as Luiz—hanging out over the edge—signaled with a hand.
The descent slowed.
“Stop,” Jack said.
Complete stop.
Jack kicked left and set his feet on the ledge.
The man sat hunkered against the wall. He pushed back with his feet.
“How are you doing?” Jack asked, leaning closer. “Hurt in any way?”
“I’m not hurt,” he said, an accent suggesting English wasn’t his first language. He winced, and pushed again with his feet. He took in a breath. “I think my legs are falling asleep.”
Jack sorted through webbing runners on the equipment sling. He found a long one. Reaching up on the load rope, he wrapped it several times, slipped the tail through the loop, and pulled it tight. That should be secure enough to hold the man’s weight. Just in case.
Jack keyed the radio. “Give me another couple of feet.” The rope slithered down. He stooped on the ledge.
Jack clipped a carabiner into the runner. “Do me a favor. Let me put this around you . . . up under your arms. That way I’ll know you’re safe while I get you in a harness.” He stretched forward. “Ease up, left arm.”
The man relaxed his hold on the crack at the back of the ledge. Slowly, he raised his arm and reached out his hand.
“No, you stay put. I’ll do it.” Jack leaned in, reached behind him, and threaded the runner and carabiner between his back and the wall. Reaching in from the other side, he grabbed the carabiner and pulled the runner through. He tied a quick knot to keep it from cinching, then clipped it around the man’s chest. “Relax your arms.”
Slowly he lowered his arms.
“If anything happens, you’re safe. Uncomfortable as hell, but safe.”
The man, dark eyes wide, moved his feet and pushed back firmly against the rock.
“Relax. You’re safe.”
Jack pulled the helmet from the mesh bag, placed it on the man’s head, and buckled it under his chin. Now the harness. He keyed the radio. “Luiz, give me three more feet.”
“Three feet?”
“Make it two.”
Jack placed his feet on the lip and sat back over the edge, dropping as the rope fed out. He took a step down the wall and came to a stop. He kicked out with his right leg, moved left, and propped his leg against the fall line. He fished the harness out of the bag. “What’s your name?”
Wide-eyed, he opened his mouth to speak. “T-t-thomas.” He pushed back hard with his feet.
“Thomas, what?”
“Too complicated for white man,” he said, self-consciously. “You’ll never remember, I promise.”
“Okay, then, Thomas it is. I’d ask how you got in this mess, but let’s worry about that later. Relax. You’re tied in. Okay?”
He nodded.
“Give me your legs one at a time.”
He nodded.
“Okay, left leg first.”
He pressed back hard with his right foot and lifted the other.
“Relax,” Jack said. He pulled the leg loop up over Thomas’ boot, and slipped it up his leg. “Okay, give me the other.”
He set the foot down, pushed back hard with both, and slowly raised his right.
Jack reset himself on the wall, put the right leg loop over the man’s foot, and worked the harness up his leg.
“Now, raise your butt a little, so I can pull the harness around your waist. And relax.”
Thomas reset his foot on the ledge and pushed back with both, hard. Placing his hands behind him, he sunk his fingers into a crack, and slowly lifted himself off the rock.
Something moved.
The ledge floated closer. The wall drifted away.
Jack focused his eyes. What is . . . ?
The ledge peeled away, hinging from the wall, floating, dropping, coming toward him.
Thomas kicked his feet, trying to get back to the wall. He twisted, catching the rope with his leg, sliding it along the edge, slipping it into a crack in the rock. The knot caught.
“Thomas, let go.”
Rope stretched.
“Thomas!”
The rope! The slab kept coming.
Jack grabbed Thomas’ legs and kicked back, hard, jerking him out of his hold. The rope snapped free.
The slab passed beneath them.
They kept moving.
The slab grew smaller, tumbling toward earth.
Smaller.
Smaller.
The rock crashed into the ground.
—·—
Luiz rubbed his neck.
Waves of sound and shock rolled over him.
He eyed the rope, then Johnny, afraid to look down. “What the hell just . . .”
Slowly, he looked.
—·—
Their movement stopped.
Sound filled the canyon. Echo rose up and reverberated through it.
Movement started, slow at first, then gaining speed.
The wall soared toward them.
Jack cringed, knowing. “Thomas,” he shouted. “Lock your arms. Brace yourself. This is gonna hurt.”
Chapter 4
The wall came out and clobbered them, slamming them with its face. They bounced, then rolled across the rock.
Echo pulsed through the canyon. Air shook.
Cold stone ground into them, taking skin, leaving pain, throwing them back into thin air. They glanced off the rock, slowed, and swung back.
The spinning. Jack reached for his nose, trying to protect it, subjecting his elbows to blows.
The spinning slowed, then stopped. They slid plum, and settled against the wall.
Bone and skin, shoulders, knees, and hips, it all hurt.
Quiet. No shock waves. Nothing.
Jack pressed his hands to his face.
The radio squawked. “Jack,