Terror, Part III

The blood from the cut on the back of his head trickled down his neck soaking his shirt. The pain continued to come in waves, he felt nauseous. No matter what he had to move, he couldn’t stand still. His legs wobbled, time was against him. There had to be a way, there was always a way, he just had to find it. It was getting dark and still no one called for him. 

He thought about turning to the face wall, but it wouldn’t do any good as the injured shoulder had left him unable to climb. Harry moved right to the very edge of the last step and looked down. He saw a narrow ridge a couple of feet below him, but to get there he would have to sit down. Could he do it that was the question?

Harry bent his knees as far as possible. Now he needed to get one foot out at a time and not fall while doing it. He leaned to the left and used his good arm to support him. But still it was not enough, he needed to lay on his side too get his legs out. He whimpered in pain from the effort, but in spite of it he got down. First the bottom leg, then the top and with the help of his good arm, he pushed himself up right.

He needed a drink. He reached for the pack and awkwardly pulled the water from its holder. The pack lifted and fell away before he could grab it. It dropped straight to the ledge, bounced and was gone. Would he do the same? It took a bit of effort to get the bottle open, but when he did, he drank heavily. He left only a mouthful or two. He didn’t care, he was refreshed and had gained some strength. The drop was maybe 3 feet at most, but it would hurt. It was granite. For unlike the previous drop, he didn’t think he could land on his feet, more likely on his ass due to the shape of the wall. Whatever the circumstance he had no choice. There was no way back and no way forward, just down. And he had to get out from under the overhang before someone could see him. Harry inhaled and pushed off. Pain exploded through him on impact and he lost consciousness again.

What had happened or how long he had been out he didn’t know. But there he was sitting on the ledge, feet dangling again. His watch said 5:55 PM; he was already three hours late. Someone had to be looking. Maybe she sent the kids. They knew the trail better than he. If anyone could find him, they could. Harry looked up to see the overhang still hovered above. They wouldn’t see him. He tried to call. Still it was barely above a whisper. He tried again, better, but not enough for anyone to hear.

HPIM3182 (2) To his left the ledge ran two feet no more, to the right it moved back around the corner taking  him further under the overhang. The difference was that the ledge was going down towards the trees and more importantly the slope was down. And if it continued maybe he could get down on to the lower trail. He moved, but it was slow sliding on his ass and pushing with his good arm. The exertion was draining, but he had no choice, move or die.

“Keep going Harry, keep going” he said motivating himself to push on. “Don’t quit, don’t quit” was his plea. The job at hand was to move. Harry had made his fortune motivating others, now the subject of the lesson was Harry Chambers. He was relentless with others, driving them to do their job. Despite the fear and pain, he now applied the same pressure to himself as he blubbered through the tears that ran down his face.

 

Terror Part IV Monday, July 25

By David Hutchison100_0036hobn (4)

davidh@shaw.ca

david@davidsnotebook.com