- Hard Fall (6 page)

"If Joe falls," the pitch reined back to something more pragmatic, Kabe continued, "as he's moving up to set the next anchor, I can belay him. Unless the anchor comes out, we're good." He adjusted his harness and began knotting in.

"Zipper falls are fun. Fall, stop on the belay, anchor tears loose, fall some more."

I could see it not quite working through Nadia's mind. I could play instructor, I'd done it before. "Belays are like brakes for ropes. He's tied to me," I flicked the rope that would link us. "I'm strung through his belay. If something happens, Kabe has to slow my fall with the belay and take the force on him and the anchor. Which means my life depends on me setting them good, 'cause if I don't they'll rip loose when my weight hits 'em." By the way Nadia's lip twitched up and her eyebrows met above the bridge of her nose, the logic of that seemed to hit. "Anyway, I don't intend on using 'em.

So I go up, set the next anchor, tie myself off. Kabe'll clear the bolt out of the face and climb up to the next one. And we keep dancing like that until we reach the top."

"Normally," Kabe barely glanced up from inspecting his rigging, "that's the point where you rappel back down, but we're doing this one bass-ackwards."

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

Since the tree line wasn't that far from the rim, I decided to use an old growth pine for the multiple anchor points.

Actually two trees about thirty feet apart ... redundancy in the number of anchor lines and anchor points is key to survival.

Darn things I chose were bigger 'round than both my thighs, straight and well rooted. It took Kabe and I a bit to set the multicolored webbing and steel rings, yank on it hard a few dozen times from a few dozen positions, but I'd rather be safe than dead. I double-checked his double-check. Kabe did a final check 'round. The boy was as meticulous about the process as I was, we'd have drove Fred nuts.

Then we tied into the figure eights ... mine the typical heavy duty first responder steel model and Kabe's the lighter aluminum sport type. I'd go first on the rappel as well as the climb back out. I looked up from my knotting to where the ranger crab walked along. I smiled at the sight and shouted over, "You okay there, Nadia?"

"Yeah, not much to see on solid rock." Slapping her hands on her thighs, she stood. "I'll see if I can spot any evidence on a perimeter walk, but you're good to go here."

I walked to the edge of the cliff and took a deep breath. A different kind than before, this one got all mixed up in a prayer. Rappelling was the part of the climb I hated the most.

When I'm on my way up, I got a load of backups to keep me from falling. Rappels were all about the equipment. Best I could manage for safety was knotting a double figure eight in the rope's tail end so I wouldn't slip off and shanking a couple Prusiks, specially tied short loops of rope, to act as secondary belays.

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Hard Fall

by James Buchanan

My right hand held my brake rope, the left the primary rope, and both ran through the rappel device and clips. Easy, slow, I walked backward over the lip. There's always that sudden terror as you step off the cliff and leave your life in the strength of your gear. My torso upright, my toes on the rock, I tried to keep everything as smooth as possible as I played out and walked down the face, but I still jerked now and again. Before I knew it, I was darn near at the end of my rope.

Flatlanders just have no real idea what that expression means.

Now I needed to set some anchors so I could continue the rappel. I actually had to jug back up a bit to find a spot I liked. Then I tied the lock off knots in my rappel rope and began setting gear. We could have extended the rappel with webbing or such, but I'd rather play it safe. Plus, what I set now would allow us to set up a Z-pulley system so that I could haul the body easier. Once it all felt set, I hooked myself on to the anchors I'd placed with a few locking carabiners and called up, "Off rope! Come on down."

From above me I heard Kabe's yell of, "Below," advising me to watch for anything he might knock loose on his descent. I hung off the gear and studied the scene below.

Close as I was, a good twenty feet, I could smell the blood, although there was a lot less than most people might suspect.

Without a puncture into the body cavity, from something like a limb or rock, people who fell didn't bleed much. Her clothing seemed reasonable for someone who'd been out in the mountain morning: fleece pullover, knee-length 51

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mountaineering pants and hiking boots with heavy socks. The strap for a light, day-type pack was tangled about one arm.

In climber time, it didn't take Kabe long at all to reach me.

We hung side-by-side for a bit as he clipped in to my anchors.

For a guy who normally liked to cheat death in the you-fall-you-die game of free solo, he was meticulous during a trad climb.

"So." Kabe looked over as he locked in a crab and smiled.

Lord, there it went again, that soul-shattering grin. There weren't nowhere to run to this time. I hung there and basked in the glow of it. Without acknowledging my slack-jawed state, he continued his thought, and eased into my side. "I'll hang here, rig the rescue pulley. You rap down, do what you need to."

Somehow I managed to dredge up a coherent response.

"Sounds good." It took me a bit to realize how near Kabe was. Actually, I knew without even knowing how close Kabe was ... it took a good chunk longer to realize that it wasn't an accident. "What in tarnation are you doing?"

Sharing someone's protection on a face didn't usually mean sharing their up close and personal space. Although my definition of personal space took a long walk around the mountain when I climbed and didn't relate to nothing I might think when my feet were planted on the ground. Still, he was nearer than he really needed to be. So near I could taste the salt on his skin as he reached across and clipped into the pro right above my shoulder.

Growling out, "I think you're secure enough to set your own protection," I moved over the only inch I could get.

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"What, bother you?" Likely, Kabe decided it was a good time to razz me, since there weren't a darn thing I could do about it. He teased, his leg sliding against mine. If he didn't watch it our ropes would get all good and tangled. "I'm good, can hang out here all day."

The scent of sweat mixed with chalk and flowed down my spine. "I can't." I'da moved off even more if'n there was any place to move off to. Strung like a pig out for slaughter, I had nowhere to run.

"Your arms going to get tired?" Somehow he managed to reach between me and the rock, so that his shoulder was under my pit. It pitched his crotch against the back of my thigh. Boy had a hard-on to rival Kilimanjaro. He swayed a bit on the rope, like he was having trouble finding a place for a

'biner. It rubbed him in all the right places. "Can't hold it up?"

The bucketfuls of load he put on
it
let me know it weren't my arms he was joshing 'bout.

What I wanted to do was push back, feel that thick piece of meat against my skin. "I think you need to stop screwing around."

"Hey, you know," that lean brown arm, roped with muscle, brushed against my chest, "where else can you hang out half-naked and in bondage gear with another guy and nobody says anything?" He bumped my hip, messing around here

'cause he thought I couldn't say nothing. "Slide your hand up a greasy crack and hang out for a while."

Dangerous play for him. He likely figured he could get away with it up here, maybe he'd gotten away with it before.

Mess with some guy's head, one you figured you'd never 53

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partner with again, and then when you hit the ground nobody says nothing. 'Cause if the guy he'd been diggin' on said word one, then everybody knew he noticed. Most guys didn't have the stones to admit they noticed.

I ain't most guys. "You need to just stop."

"Stop what?" Closer, I don't know how the heck he managed closer, Kabe darn near stretched spread eagle on the face. It put his knee up under my butt. A suicidal game of Twister hundreds of feet up in the air. "I'm not doing anything, but hanging 'round and setting pro."

"I don't cotton to taking a free solo rappel down this cliff."

"Oh, the big, bad sheriff is scared."

That's when the bear in me came out—and not like those internet picture types of furry chests needing to shed the winter pounds.... more the grizzly that eats crazy climbers for lunch species. I really, really didn't like being hung up on a face with a guy who decided to get all friendly right then and there. "Look, boy," I used my finger grip in a crack to draw me hard against the wall, sandwiching Kabe's arm, shoulder and part of his chest between my muscle and the mountain,

"wrap your darn fool head around this." I can move fast when I want to. I dropped the hold with my toes, swung a bit and managed around and behind him. Now it was my knee in his ass. And all of me pressed him into the unyielding rock. Kabe barely managed out a grunt. "I'm bigger, I'm stronger and I know as much about being on the mountain as you do. If'n nothing else penetrates that skull of yours, get this one thing straight. I'm in charge and we do this my way." Thank the Lord we were both clipped in ... it might just keep us from 54

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being killed while we established who was boss. I intended to come out on top of this pissing match.

He tried to push back. Boy could tease, but seemed to find it hard to take what he dished out. "I can handle myself fine out here." A little edge of panic crept under his voice. Damn good, everyone needed to keep a little fear of God in their heart on a wall. "I don't need you telling me what to do."

My mouth right up against his ear, my body pressing him up against the wall, oh Lord, I was hard. I shouldn't have been. But my prick seemed to think different. As much as I couldn't ignore it, sure that Kabe couldn't either ... seeing as I'd settled right into the crack of his ass. "Don't be stupid," I hissed, my breath moving the hair at the nape of his neck,

"one person's died today. Don't want another on my hands.

This isn't just about you and the mountain. It's about you and the mountain and me and doing a job ... big picture."

"Fuck off!" He writhed. Oh, man, that felt good, his grinding that taut ass against my prick.

I savored it. "My way." Then I humped a little. Not like there was anyone around to see what we were up to. "We're going to finish this pull and you're not gonna mess no more. I don't cotton to horsing around on a climb. Don't care how hot you think you are, you play it my way, or I'll pull all the pro you've set and drop your butt."

Kabe drew in a ragged breath and stilled. It must have penetrated I was serious ... and into guys just as much as he was. As that was settled, I growled out, since the growls seemed to get his attention and keep it focused on me, "And another rule. You don't mess with me 'round nobody else." If 55

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my mouth were any closer I'd be eating his ear ... sounded darn good right then. "You do that and you'll wish you hadn't lived through the consequences." What the hey? Taking the moment, I licked up his neck. Kabe shuddered. "So what do you have to say?"

He swallowed and turned his head a bit. I could feel his Adam's apple bobbing against my cheek. "Okay."

"Okay, what?" I whispered it this time. Just enough to be heard over the wind.

"Okay, Joe." A little fear smelled so good on his skin. "We do it your way."

"Good boy." I eased off so he could scuttle out from under me. "You learn up quick."

Eyes wide, he stared at me. Kabe had a whole 'nother war of emotions going on in those hazel eyes. I grinned back. I wondered if he looked that good when he got balled. I almost wished I could find out right then and there. He had to see that predatory, hungry look in my eyes. Kabe reached out and just touched my arm, almost like he was asking for permission. I didn't shrug it off or nothing, just smiled wider and got a bit of wonder in return.

Then we hit that uneasy moment where a lot of water's gone under the bridge and you don't know exactly how to respond. It only takes a second of letting your mind drift before reality hits and a climber realizes he's still on an exposed face. For me it was the gust of wind that snapped a bit of webbing against my cheek. Everything hit me hard, and I could feel the shame rising in the back of my neck. The little 56

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bit of suspended reality was gone and I had to chew on how I'd just hit on him.

Not willing to look like a complete doofus, I set the rope for the next pitch. "I'll be back." I gave the phrase the over-inflected tone of a camp movie line.

Kabe snorted, seeming far more at ease with what went down than I ever could be. "Okay, honey," he drawled out with a tease of his own, "get milk while you're out."

As I began my decent, I growled out, "Brat." The next twenty feet passed pretty quick. After setting my anchors, I locked myself in, this time leaving enough play I could move around the tiny scene, but in case I slipped, I'd only suffer a wounding of my pride. I fished my little digital camera out of a pocket on my pack. Rickland snapped some full scene picks on his fly by. Now I needed up close and personal. Trying for a few more close ups, I had to hang off the lip of the ledge and edge around. Hopefully, enough would come out clear and not have my ropes, hands or feet in them obstructing the body so that it would be a pretty accurate photo reconstruction.

Something wasn't right about the scene at all and I couldn't place what. It gnawed at me as I moved and snapped pictures. Finally, I got to the point where I couldn't do much more while keeping myself from becoming a secondary casualty. I needed another set of hands. "Kabe!" I looked up to where he was putting the finishing touches on the pulley set up: a Z arrangement of four pulleys that would allow me to haul Anya's body up without killing my back.