Terror – Part II

It could be another hour before Suzanne even thought about him. He didn’t know if he could last another hour. No one could see him as the over hang completely blocked any view. It happened so fast. What the fuck was he thinking trying to pull the fencing up? He wasn’t thinking, he was just plain careless. How many times had he told the kids don’t be careless in the mountains, a hundred times or more? And now here he was, screwed.

Again he tried to call, but it was barely a whisper. He had to get himself out of this. Fighting through the pain he lifted a leg at a time. Now he was laying full length on the outcrop. He found a crack in the rock for his heel and pushed himself into the shape of where he lay. In this position the slope propped his head up so he could see. Now he could look straight down. Below and a few feet to his left was a small ledge with a little tree growing up out of it. If he could get into a sitting position and drop straight down the few feet to the ledge, maybe he could get around the corner and work his way back up. If he missed, he would die as there was nothing underneath it, but a straight drop of more than 50 feet on to a small field of boulders. He pushed himself upright.

HPIM3183  His mouth was dry. He tried to spit. He saw his blood land on the ledge. He was scared as tears welled in his eyes. He was frozen with indecision. How long had he sat there? Didn’t know as he had lost track of time, but it was darker in the valley meaning the sun was beginning to set. Again he looked down at ledge. The circumstance was the same, if he missed, he would die. But he was starting to feel faint so he had to go now or wait. He couldn’t wait. And if he fainted he would probably fall anyway. From where he was Harry doubted they could find him. If they did it would be tomorrow at best. Night was closing in and time was running out.  

He shifted closer to the edge. He would have to slide off as his arms couldn’t lift him. He inched closer trying to get as far forward as possible, he dropped. He hit the ledge perfectly, but his weight threw him backwards, smashing his head against the rock wall. For a moment he went blank and wavered, stunned by the impact. Fortune struck and instinct saved him as his arm caught the small tree. He pushed back against the wall to regain his balance.

The size of his backpack forced him to stand straight bringing him precariously close to falling forward to his death. He needed to get the pack off. He popped the clips. He dipped the injured shoulder dropping the strap and then the good shoulder. But to get it out he still needed to stand a tiny bit straighter, just enough for it to fall away and catch it with his good hand. He slipped his hand behind him and carefully pulled it out. He collapsed back against the rock wall. His knees shook as tried not to drop the pack. All the while hoping not to fall or pass out from the effort. He breathed as deeply as possible. His chest ached, but it steadied him.

He fought back resisting his bodies desire to give in. Again, he sucked in ever ounce of air his damaged chest could take. He pushed up on his toes to hold his place. He had to move past the tree and down the ledge. It took time, time he wasn’t sure he had, but he made it past. Each step was agony. Within a few feet the ledge became an incline almost as broken stairs. They demanded he keep his back pressed against the wall. He took the first step, then the second, then the third, Harry rounded the corner, it ended, he was trapped.

Part III Sunday July 24th

David Hutchison100_0036hobn (4)