Page 1 of Free Heart
PART TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Dan
Thursday, Oct 21, 2021
0 days since free solo attempt
I’m cold. There’sa strong wind shifting through my hair, except for the part that’s held in place by something hot, thick, and wet. Blood? Yes, I think it’s blood.
I twitch my fingers. Feel rock.
I lick my lips. Feel jagged bits of tooth. Taste iron.
I start to lift my head, but there’s shouting from somewhere slightly above. “He’s coming around! Don’t move, Dan! Hold still! We’re here to help you. Just don’t move. We need to secure your back and neck.”
I groan and try to lift my head as a chorus of voices yells at me. It seems hard to manage, and it’s already so fucking painful just to exist. I give up, letting my head rest back on hard rock. Peeling my eyes open, I see the familiar granite wall looming over me. I take in the roof of the Heart Formation and beyond that the vibrant blue sky. It’s big and open now, with a singular, puffy cloud hanging overhead like it’s watching me too.
I smile at it. Or I try to. My face feels like it’s not a real thing anymore. Like it’s a glob of flesh that kind of moves and kind of doesn’t.
Weird.
“Dan, it’s Rye. We’re close to where we can help you. Can you stay with me?”
I try to answer, but my mouth is oddly slick and tastes of blood and something foul. Vomit, I think. I shudder and onlya groan comes out. Pain shoots through my whole body. My stomach roils. Squinting through my lashes, I don’t know how long I’ve been here.
“Can you stay with me, Dan?” Rye says again, urgently.
I feel the touch of someone’s hand on mine. I hear the clink of carabiners and thewhish-whishof ropes over rock. I smell a distinct combination of sweat and piss, and I think it’s mine.
“Dammit, he’s passing out again,” an unfamiliar voice says.
“I feel a little woozy myself to be honest.” That’s Rye, isn’t it? I can’t be sure.
A hard pat to my cheek. “C’mon, Dan, stay here. Talk to us.”
I open my mouth to say I’ll stay, but then the blue, clouded sky goes all dotted with black, and I leave.
*
Sejin
Less than aday ago, I was full of happiness and dreams of road-tripping through the winter, painting a rose-colored future of adventures with Dan. Now all that joy lies rotting with my vomit in the mid-morning sun.
The meadow beneath El Capitan is filled with noise—the sound of helicopter blades, sirens, the voices of a small army of onlookers, as well as the arrival of media vans and reporters.
I’ve been pacing back and forth for what seems like an eternity. My phone is blowing up with messages, but I can’t keep up:
Leenie:Is that guy on the ledge Dan?
Martin:Leenie says there’s a guy injured on El Cap. Checking it’s not your man?
Gage:dude, that’s not dan, right?
Celli:worried here at papa bear. let us know it’s not dan up there, pls.
I want to mute my incoming messages because I can’t stand telling anyone anything at all, but I’m afraid I’ll somehow miss one from Dan. He’s got his phone up on the wall with him. If he’s conscious, he might text me. Or call.
