Page 65 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
He pushes up slowly, groaning. “I’m fine. Where’s the backpack?” When he stands, he topples over, losing his balance, then holds a hand to his forehead.
“Elias, you’re too tired. You can barely walk. It’s fine. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“No,” is all he can manage as he stumbles around the room. In a fumbling motion, he finally swings the backpack on and tromps out the door with feet made of lead. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rynn
We trudge through darkness, surrounded by steep rock walls slanting straight up. I try to block out the sound of the loud crickets or cicadas—I’ve never known the difference. The waxing moon illuminates stories from centuries past.
For the millionth time, I check on Elias, dragging behind me. The distance between us continually lengthens until I slow to let him catch up. Something is wrong, but he refuses to stop or rest. Unlike me, sweat drips from his head and he focuses on the rocky ground as if one misstep will be his last. Even the hiking stick in his hand seems ready to snap in half from the weight he’s bearing onto it.
Concern is an understatement at this point. We’re almost at the location Tinsley gave us, but the options don’t look promising. Instead of trees towering above, there are only cliff walls that puncture the obsidian sky.
At our destination, I drop the backpack and pull out chopped carrots, cut diagonally, pumpkin seeds, water, and my spoon made of yarn. All I need now are the rest of the berries from a raven’s nest.
Out of breath, almost wheezing, and skin flushed, Elias arrives slowly. He sags against the rock wall, huffing and puffing. Shit, I didn’t know he was struggling this badly or I would’ve stayed by his side the entire time. There’s no point in begging him to turn around again, because he won’t listen.
“Drink,” I say, handing him a fresh bottle and holding it to his lips.
He doesn’t even reach for it, but closes his eyes and lets me pour it into his mouth.
“Goddess, Elias, I hate this. What do you need?”
He points high to the top of the cliff, then says, “Get … the berries … I’m just tired.”
“I’m not leaving you like this.”
Pushing off the ground, he tries to stand. “Fine … I’ll … get … them.”
My body is so tense it could crack in half. “You’re impossible!”
Elias slumps over, his head between his legs, like a broken puppet.
“Elias?” I lift his chin, but his eyes are closed. “ELIAS! Look at me!”
Unmoving, he groans in agony.
“Elias?” I lay my hands on his shirt, soaked through with sweat.
I feel his forehead. Firey and clammy to the touch. Damn! Is it a virus? Fear sticks to my skin like a spider web, covering me from head to toe.
I glance around at the slim vegetation. There must be some plant poking out of the rocks that I could use to make him feel better. Suddenly, I remember the bag Tinsley gave me. It was too heavy to only contain three berries. I jump to the backpack, pull out the pouch, and carefully dump out its contents. A sigh of relief explodes from somewhere deep within. My best friend is a genius. She packed pain relief meds, condoms, two energy drinks, and a note that says ‘have fun!’
I jump towards Elias and place the pills at his lips. “Lias. Open.”
He does, painstakingly slow. “Good job. Now drink more water.”
When I’m satisfied that he swallowed, I help him lean against the rock at a more comfortable angle. I can’t call a rescue team since my phone is dead. There’s no chance he can hike it down in his state. Goddess, I’m so stupid. Our best option is for him to sleep it off. Since I’m already here, I may as well make use of the opportunity. I’m second guessing all my decisions but won’t let hesitancy make things worse.
As I peer up at the crag, scanning for the best cracks, I stretch my wrists and quads. At the top, the face will be the trickiest, but near the bottom, the limestone is clean and dry. Good. There’s no way he could make it up this cliff, even in full health. Unfortunately, I don’t have any equipment with me and haven’t done a free solo climb since Maya was born. Especially not in crappy shoes.
I push off the ground and start with easy jugs up my route. As I make my way up, I think of all the other climbs I’ve completed. It’s more than a hobby or sport—but a way of coping with life. Up here is when I feel most vulnerable, when gravity can kill.
Halfway up, with white knuckles, I silently tell myself to keep going. Keep going. I’m lucky enough to approach a chimney. Muscles tight, I fit inside the crevice and use my feet to shimmy up. Left foot. Right foot. Heart pumping. Sweat drips. Everything is strained. My back scratches against the rough surface as I approach the peak.
Elias would be safe, back home, sleeping comfortably, if a Nerg hadn’t created this mess.
