Spectator

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Then

"Come on, Kali," she muttered. She'd already spent too long staring up at the imposing rock face, as if she could get a glimpse of someone waiting up there for her. The excuse was that she was waiting for Ainsley to find her here, but the truth was fear. This wasn't a simulation. If she fell off this cliff it would be for good. No amount of advanced medical care would unmush her bones.

But being abandoned here and watching the craft fly out without her was also death, albeit just a longer one. She debated for another minute which she would rather, and decided on splat. Painful, but quick. She'd make sure to aim for the head. Languishing for a few days was no one's fantasy.

No noticeable rock or tree she could hook into, which meant it was all going to be loose climbing. Once she fell, she fell. Jae would have no problem scaling this wall, and she wondered where he might be. Not because she needed rescue, but knowing him, he'd offer it easily.

But no silver haired boy poked over the edge so she dug her spikes in and began climbing. Ten minutes in and her muscles were already on fire. Half an hour and she knew she'd made a terrible mistake. She still had a line beneath her, pinned carefully as she advanced, but what would climbing back down do except just reset her to zero but add exhaustion?

She was so covered in sweat it ran off in rivulets along her body. Her lungs felt as if someone was stepping on them, pressing harder and harder. Still, she climbed. Nothing about her was made for climbing. She was on the heavy side and shorter limbs; she couldn't make the same connections that someone taller could.

Kali made the mistake of looking down, the mountain seeming to shake ominously. But it wasn't entirely a mistake; someone was below her. She hadn't noticed them at first, but now that she'd glanced their way, the crazy teen took a hand off the rock to wave at her.

"Hi," the tone was friendly but the meaning was not. Her spine turned cold. It was Gasquet, who would most certainly pull her off the cliff if he reached her. And he was catching up.

"Fuck, fuck," she muttered, then berated herself for wasting breath. She didn't have time for this. She had to move. He was further to her right and down. If she reached the top first she had the advantage. If she didn't, well—

She would be as good as dead.

So she pushed herself faster, harder. One of the spikes didn't go in far enough and she pulled it out prematurely, costing her minutes righting herself and nearly giving herself a heart attack. Climb. She had to reach the top before he did. Not to mention the age old question: if he didn't throw the body over the edge, who had?

They were still another ten meters from the top when he caught up with her. Fuck.

Her lead was gone and she was screwed. But she'd gone too far to rapel back down now. She'd beat him. She had to. Or at the very least, tie.

She cut her fingers on the edges of sharp rock, then her knuckles trying to jam her next climbing knife in, but the sting only spurred her on more, leaving traces of bloody handprints as she reached a vertical crack. She jammed another pick in for her foot and didn't bother to retrieve it. She'd left more than a few tools behind, and hoped that she wouldn't need them again. But right now it was all about speed. She didn't even spare Gasquet another look. If she saw he was already at the top she would lose what nerve she had left.

She grit her teeth as she scraped her shoulders against a jutting rock, but didn't let it slow her down. A few rocks tumbled free, and she looked up as they pelted her face, one cutting her across the chin. The blood welled up and trickled down her jaw, but she was almost there now. No sign of Gasquet leaning over, grinning. She was at the edge. Bloody fingers didn't help her grip. She tossed the claw but didn't use it, instead relying on her spikes. Kali grunted as she pulled herself up as fast as she could, waiting for someone to push her when she was at her most vulnerable.