Page 13 of Katabasis
“Very good,” said Alice. “Now, let’s—let’s just take stock, have a reset...”
“My forearms are burning,” Peter gasped.
“You’re using your thumbs too much. Look.” She demonstrated with one hand. “Try hanging from your top four fingers instead. They’ll give you all the traction you need. Hook, don’t pinch.”
Peter spent a long moment breathing against the wall. Alice wondered if he’d heard her at all. But then he reached out with one tentative hand, the other bracing against the wall for balance, and flexed his fingers.
“Okay,” he said. “I think... that makes sense.”
“And if you ever need to rest, get your feet on a good hold, stand up straight, and lean against the wall like you are now. That’ll take some of the pressure off your arms. Do you understand?”
He nodded vigorously, eyes wide.
“Hesitation is your worst enemy. If you see a hold, justswingfor it. The longer you dither back and forth, the more you exhaust yourself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Shush, Murdoch, I’m saving your life.” She dusted her hands with a fresh piece of chalk, then passed it down. “Chalk up, you’re sweating.”
Peter obeyed. Up again they went. From this angle Alice could not tell how far they’d come, whether they’d reached the halfway point or not. All distance and texture were reduced to abstractions, lines on canvas, and all she could see on either side was an endless stretch of jagged white, then sky, or ground. There was no pacing herself to the finish. All she could do was ignore the passage of time, and the rapidly approaching limits of her own endurance, and keep throwing one arm up over the next. A watched distance never shrank. Hands, hands, toes, toes. Hands, hands, toes, toes.
Finally her right hand met a flat, wide surface. She dared to tilt her head up. That was it—there was no more wall, only sky, she’d made it. Topping out, they called it at the gym. She took a deep breath and pushed herself over the edge in one massive go. Then she scampered onto her knees and looked down.
Peter gazed up at her, eyes huge with fright. He was shaking quite badly. She was afraid he might let go, and he was still several feet below her, too far for her to pull him up.
“You’re so close,” she called. “You’re almost there. And it’s flat up here—almost three feet wide—we can rest up here, you’ve just got to finish out.”
He might have said something in response, but she couldn’t tell what. All she heard was a pained wheezing.
“Just look at me,” she said. He raised his head. “There you go.”
He reached with trembling hands for the next hold. Then the next.
“Now move your toes,” she whispered. “Steady now—good, good—now one more.”
He got one hand up to the top. She seized his wrist. He got another hand up, just far enough for her to pull him up and over. One great heave, and then Peter collapsed on top of her with a shout.
They lay still for a long moment, breathing hard. Alice felt something wet against her skin. She tilted her head down and saw Peter’s face crumpled against her neck. He was crying.
“You’re all right,” she murmured. “It’s okay.”
She would have wriggled away, but Peter was still shaking—a bit, Alice thought inappropriately, like a man after sex—and she thought it better to let him have this moment. She laid her head back and closed her eyes, relishing the sweet fatigue that pulsed through her limbs.
Good God. She hadn’t felt this sort of pain in a long time. She’d been exhausted, yes, but this throbbing soreness—this screaming reminder that she’d pushed her body to the limit, and hadn’t broken; indeed, that shehada body that could do what it did—felt good.
She tried to focus on that pleasant burn. Not Peter’s warmth against her chest. Not the absurdity of Peter lying on top of her, which was somehow, compared to rock climbing in Hell, the most ridiculous thing about this situation. Not the very weird stir in her gut she felt at his being vulnerable,dependingon her, and how very unsatisfying this was despite the fact that she’d wished for so long that Peter might reveal to her any weakness at all. But all this did was make him seem human, and the more human Peter seemed, the more he baffled her.
At last his sobs subsided. “I’m sorry.” He pulled himself off of her and sat up. “I feel very embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” Alice murmured, eyes still closed.
“I’m just so afraid. I think I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life.”
“That’s natural.”
“I think with every move I’m going to fall. Every time I let go I think it’s about to be the end.”
“It takes a lot to fall.” Alice hauled herself up to sitting, then reached out to pat his knee. “Trust your body. You’re not going to fall.”
