by Raelyn Drake
“Yeah, no problem, we can stick together,” Micah said softly. “You’re right, it’ll be safer that way.”
They slowly walked on. Trevor found himself having to watch his pace—he kept wanting to speed up. It felt like they were taking a casual stroll when they should have been racing against the clock. Trevor resisted the urge to break into a run.
Slow and steady wins the race, he reminded himself. Although the tortoise in that story hadn’t been bitten by a rattlesnake.
He tried to keep his mind off the burning pain of the snakebite, but instead Trevor found himself running over all of the mistakes he had made to end up in this situation in the first place. He shouldn’t have skipped class. He should have told his parents he was going climbing. He should have brought his own phone instead of just relying on Micah’s. He should have known to watch out for snakes in an area like this.
Trevor knew that it didn’t do him any good now to obsess over what he should have done differently, but that didn’t stop his brain from looping his mistakes again and again like a movie montage of shameful moments. He and Micah were well beyond rookie status as climbers—and that seemed to make it all the worse. They knew better than this. And now the two of them were basically a walking manual for things not to do when climbing.
Trevor was starting to get short of breath, like he was rock climbing instead of walking slowly along the mostly flat canyon floor. It was hard to take deep breaths when his chest felt like there was a rope wrapping around it, tighter and tighter, trying to squeeze the breath out of him.
On top of that, he was feeling light-headed and incredibly thirsty. Usually he would have guessed it was heat exhaustion from being out in the desert all morning. But now he assumed that every muscle twitch and stomach cramp was a symptom of the snake venom working its way through his veins. It was difficult to tell what was the venom, what was the heat, and what was just in his head.
“So,” he said aloud to try to distract himself, “when you and Peyton go to homecoming together, where do you think you’ll take her for dinner before the dance?”
Micah looked taken aback by the question, and he raised his eyebrows. “You should really try to save your energy—”
“Please,” Trevor interrupted. “I know, but I need something else to think about besides this stupid bite. I just . . .”
Micah nodded, quiet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Uh, I mean, I hadn’t really thought that part through yet.”
“Dude, that’s like the most important part of the whole date,” Trevor said.
“I haven’t even asked her yet,” Micah protested. He no longer seemed to remember that this was all to distract Trevor. Judging by the look on his face, Micah really was worried about Peyton’s response. Apparently this had been bothering him for a while.
“Doesn’t matter,” Trevor said. “You’ve got to plan these things way in advance. Besides, you already know she’s going to say yes—”
“But what if she doesn’t—”
“She will,” Trevor said firmly. “If I were you, I would make reservations for—” He broke off suddenly in a coughing fit that left him gasping for air.
“I’m fine,” he croaked after several seconds, while Micah stared at him with wide eyes, looking unsure about what he was supposed to do to help. “I’m fine,” Trevor repeated. “Let’s just keep moving.”
“You should really drink some water,” Micah said.
Trevor’s mouth was so dry it felt like he had swallowed a bunch of climbing chalk. He wanted nothing more than to chug an entire bottle. But he couldn’t stop thinking of how important water was in the desert. “Shouldn’t we try to stretch out our water supply as long as we can?”
“We brought lots of water with us,” Micah said. “I think keeping you hydrated right now is more important than our long-term survival plans.”
Trevor saw Micah peek at the snake bite and then quickly look away, and he realized Micah was right—the venom would finish him off a lot faster than his thirst. He took a few pulls from one of their water bottles, then soaked his bandana in water and tied it around his neck. The cool, damp fabric felt soothing on his flushed skin.
After that, they continued without talking, the silence broken only by Trevor’s wheezing breaths. Trevor kept his eyes on the ground as he walked so that he wouldn’t have to see Micah shooting worried glances at him every five seconds. He also looked at the ground to keep from stumbling, since his limbs were starting to feel heavy and stiff, and he was getting increasingly clumsy.
Soon, however, Trevor was forced to ask Micah if they could take a break. He felt embarrassed to have to stop after what seemed like a very short distance, but his head was pounding.
Trevor sat heavily on a rock and downed more water, thankful that they had brought enough and didn’t have to add dehydration to their long list of current problems.
Meanwhile, Micah signaled with the emergency whistle.
Since Trevor’s headache had gotten worse, the blasts seemed unbearable to him now. He covered his ears to try to block out the shrill sound.
Once again, there was no answer to their call for help except the sound of the wind through the canyon.
“Someone could have heard us already, you know,” Micah said. “The sound carries so far that someone could be making their way toward us right now, and they just haven’t reached us yet. Or they might still be trying to locate where exactly the sound is coming from. That’s why it’s important that we keep signaling.”
To Trevor, it sounded like Micah was trying to convince himself more than anything. “Yeah, I bet our rescuers just stopped along the way to grab us some milkshakes,” he joked.
“Oh man, a milkshake sounds like the greatest thing in the world right now,” Micah said.
“Right?” Trevor said. “Well, I guess antivenom would be first on my priority list, but milkshakes would be a close second.”
Micah’s smile faded at Trevor’s mention of antivenom, and he busied himself with adjusting his makeshift sling. Trevor almost regretted his comment, but he felt that making jokes about their crisis was a better way to cope than getting stuck in his own head.
Trevor found it harder to think of jokes, though, once he examined his snakebite. The purple, swollen area had spread up his leg from his calf to his thigh, and everything below his knee felt like it was on fire. And what wasn’t burning felt numb. His stomach clenched, and he wasn’t sure if it was from panic or nausea.
People survived snakebites all the time, Trevor knew. They were practically a common occurrence in the Southwest. But it was one thing to get bitten in your backyard half a mile from the emergency room and another to get bitten when you were trapped in the middle of the desert without a working phone.
The montage of negative thoughts started up again in his head, and he felt unable to move for a moment, staring off into space. But that frozen feeling was due to his anxiety, he reminded himself, not a symptom of his snakebite.
“How are you holding up, Trev?” Micah asked, startling Trevor out of his mental paralysis. Micah’s tone was light, but Trevor had never seen his friend look so concerned.
He shrugged. “Eh, I’ve been better,” he joked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. There was no reason to admit that he was in the worst pain of his entire life and worry his friend even more. “Just feeling a little woozy. I think it’s from being out in the sun all day.”
The canyon usually would have provided some shade, but by now it was noon and the sun was directly overhead. It really was getting hot, but Trevor could tell Micah didn’t believe this excuse.
Sweat dripped down Trevor’s face. He wiped some of it away with his bandana, trying to ignore the stinging pain in his leg.
Everything seemed a little blurry. He blinked, thinking that it sweat in his eyes, but the blurriness stayed. With a sinking feeling, he realized that his vision was clouding over. That was another effect of the snake venom.
“H
ow much farther do you think it is?” he asked Micah.
Micah shielded his eyes against the sun and looked ahead. The canyon ran north to south, but it twisted just enough that it was impossible to see anything ahead of the next bend.
“It can’t be too far,” Micah said. “It’s just a little over a mile from the climbing route to the southern end of the canyon.”
“It sounds so easy when you put it that way,” Trevor chuckled sarcastically. Then he added in a more genuine tone, “By the way, how’s your arm?”
He’d noticed how pale and sweaty Micah had gotten, how pinched his face looked. But in a flash it was gone, and Micah gave an unconvincing smirk. “It’s been better,” he said, echoing Trevor’s reply from before.
Which means, Trevor thought, that he’s in a whole lot of pain too, and neither of us wants to admit it.
“Well,” he said out loud, “I guess the only way out is through.” He pushed himself up to standing, gritting his teeth against the agony of pain that shot up his leg. His muscles were so weak they felt like jelly.
Less than a mile, he reminded himself. But at the moment, that distance felt like a marathon.
CHAPTER SIX
micah
Micah kept a close eye on Trevor as they walked, watching him for signs that the snakebite symptoms were getting worse.
And what Micah saw wasn’t comforting. Trevor was getting weaker by the minute, it seemed. It wasn’t surprising, since the snake venom was getting pumped through Trevor’s body with every step he took.
Even though Micah would have preferred to stay together, he started to secretly scan the walls of the canyon for any place that might be easier to climb out. If he could go get help for Trevor, then his friend might actually have a chance. At the rate they were going, by the time Trevor started antivenom treatment, his condition would be beyond serious.
Micah knew his plan wasn’t realistic, though. If the climb was easy enough that Micah could climb out with a broken arm, then wouldn’t that mean they could both make it out?
Micah tried to keep talking to distract Trevor from his current situation. They talked about everything from Peyton and homecoming to the chemistry quiz they had skipped out on. But soon the conversation became one-sided as Trevor’s breathing became so rough that he couldn’t spare any breath for talking.
Trevor needed him, and Micah felt powerless to help. He couldn’t help but blame himself for their current situation. If he had noticed that the bolt in the wall was loose, he could have saved himself from falling the first time. Or at least if he had kept the rope from getting dragged over the sharp rock edge, the rope wouldn’t have snapped, the second fall wouldn’t have happened, and he wouldn’t have broken his arm.
Micah knew that it was pointless to blame himself now, but he also knew that if something happened to Trevor he would never forgive himself.
Precious minutes of their two-hour time limit ticked away as they made their way slowly toward the southern end of the canyon. While Micah’s watch at least let them keep track of the time, it didn’t come with GPS like his phone had, and without it, Micah had no idea how far they still had to go. The end of the canyon could have been half a mile away or twenty feet away for all he knew.
But he felt like they had to be getting close. The canyon was narrower here—the walls were pushing so close together that they could only see a thin strip of blue sky above them. They were completely in shadow now. It was a relief to Micah to be out of the blazing desert sun, but he noticed that Trevor continued to pour sweat. His face was flushed and clammy.
Trevor stopped suddenly.
“What is it?” Micah asked.
“I’m hoping I’m not just seeing things because of the snake venom,” Trevor said, “but doesn’t that one section of wall up ahead look really shallow? Maybe we can climb out that way.”
Micah started to protest, but Trevor interrupted him. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t be pushing myself too hard, but this might be our best chance to get out of the canyon now instead of hiking all the way to the end.”
Micah looked at the canyon wall. In other sections, the rock face was straight up and down, but here it was a more gradual slope. If they could find enough handholds and footholds, they might be able to make the climb without ropes or climbing gear.
“I guess,” Micah said. “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to manage with my arm.”
“I’ll go first,” Trevor offered. “That way I can try to find a way up—a handy route that you can handle with only one hand.” He smirked at his own bad joke and Micah rolled his eyes.
“Sure,” Micah said after a second. “It’s not like we have any better options at the moment. It’s worth a shot.”
He could tell that Trevor was feeling weaker than he would like to admit, but Trevor grabbed his climbing helmet from where it had been clipped to the backpack and started the climb up with no hesitation. The wall sloped enough here that Trevor didn’t have to support all his weight by hanging from his fingertips—he could lean against the wall for support as he looked for the next handhold.
Almost immediately, however, Micah began to regret letting Trevor attempt this. Even if Trevor made it to the top and went to go get help, the chances that he would make it more than a mile before he passed out were slim.
As Micah secured his own helmet to his head, he still felt doubtful that he would be able to make it up with his broken arm. As though Trevor had sensed his doubt, he started to climb with only one hand. Micah could see that Trevor was right about the climb being manageable. But he wished Trevor would stop making the climb harder on himself. The last thing he needed was to push his heart rate even higher.
“This is going even better than I thought,” Trevor called back to Micah from halfway up. “Dude, if I can climb this one handed with a snakebite, you totally could too.”
Micah noticed that Trevor’s sentences sounded broken up because he had to pause for breath every few words. Again, Micah wondered if Trevor wasn’t just making the snake venom spread faster. I should have gone up first, he thought.
“Go ahead and start,” Trevor yelled. “Just follow my route, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”
Micah started up the steep incline. The hardest part wasn’t climbing with only one hand, it was balancing when he felt so lopsided. That, and dealing with the agonizing pain that by this point was twisting up through his arm and radiating into his shoulder and across his upper back. But as he caught up to Trevor—who was wheezing from the effort—Micah had to admit that this plan had a surprisingly good chance of working after all.
Trevor reached out to grab onto a rock, but it came loose, then rolled and bounced back down the incline. “Rock!” Trevor called. “Look out!”
Micah had already seen the falling rock, so he was able to duck out of the way in time. The rock missed him before it continued to clatter down the slope to the canyon floor below.
“Sorry about that!” Trevor said. “The rocks are looser up here.”
And just like that, Micah was back to second-guessing his plan again. The slope had looked solid enough from below, but up this far it was more like loose gravel on top of a jumble of larger rocks. Micah’s foot slipped once or twice, and he barely managed to catch himself without landing hard on his injured arm. Even stumbling like this rattled his body enough to send pain cascading down his arm.
He checked their progress. They had come pretty far up the slope, but the climbing conditions were getting worse the higher they went. Micah had nearly caught up to Trevor by this point, and he wasn’t sure that Trevor would have enough strength to make it the rest of the way up. Even though he wasn’t using it to climb, Micah’s broken arm still throbbed painfully.
“I don’t know if this is going to work, Trev!” he called, already starting to look for a way down.
“It’s too late to turn back now!” his friend called back.
Just then, Micah heard a cracking, grinding noise, and the ground b
eneath them seemed to shift and tremble. The section of canyon wall that they were clinging to suddenly detached and started to slide toward the canyon floor with terrifying speed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
micah
“Look out!” he called. He barely got the words out before the rocks were raining down around them as they tumbled down the slope. For the second time that day, Micah was falling. He heard Trevor scream as they slid. A rock hit Micah in the side of the face hard enough to make his ears ring. He rolled forward and bumped against a rock ledge. His slide turned into a somersault that carried him all the way to the bottom of the canyon.
It took Micah a moment to realize that he had stopped rolling because the sky above him still seemed to be moving. Pain blazed through his injured arm like fire, and for several seconds it was all he could do not to black out. He was grateful when the pain eventually receded to a throbbing ache, even though he knew it wouldn’t take much for it to flare up again.
He sat up slowly and gingerly felt the cut on his cheekbone where the rock had hit. He groaned. He was going to have scars and bruises for months. It would certainly make homecoming pictures awkward, but he felt like Peyton was the type of girl who wouldn’t care. Then he realized that there was a very low chance he would even survive this ordeal and make it to homecoming in the first place.
“I’m okay,” Trevor shouted, before Micah could even call out for his friend. The rockslide had pushed Trevor about twenty feet away, but as far as Micah could tell, he hadn’t suffered any injuries besides some nasty looking scrapes and bruises. Their condition certainly wasn’t great, but Micah knew it could have been much, much worse. It was a miracle they had survived at all.
Trevor had made his way over to Micah and yanked on his good arm to help him stand up without losing his balance. Micah groaned. His arm was still the worst of his pain, but now it seemed like there was a dull ache all over. “I feel like a giant walking bruise,” he muttered.
