Page 144 of Reinventing Cato
Cato knew he was on borrowed time. The rest of the guttering could break away at any moment. It wasn’t a surety that he’d even land on the next roof down. He might bounce off and that would be game over.
“Yes,” Cato said and even saying that one word made the guttering groan.
The rope lay close to his hands, the end somewhere lower down.
“Your foot is really close to the loop, Cato,” Max called. “Right foot. Move it a few inches further out.”
Cato tried and heard an ominous creak.
“Nearly there,” Max said.
“You need your hand on the rope,” called someone else.
The longer he left it, the less able he’d be to hold on. He could already feel his fingers freezing. He wasn’t sure if he could hold onto the rope anyway. Maybe it would just slide out of his grip.
Oh God. Do something.Cato lifted one hand free of the guttering, grabbed the rope and twirled it around his wrist. As he was doing that, the guttering broke away and although he slithered with it, he jerked to a halt. Miraculously, his foot had found its way onto the loop and as the rope took his weight, it also tightened around his wrist to the point of agony.
“Well done!” Max yelled.
Cato sucked in a breath and clutched the rope with his other hand, trying to take the pressure off his wrist, but it didn’t work.Do not ask me to climb up.He hadn’t been able to do it in gym class. He definitely couldn’t do it now.
“We’re going to pull you up!” someone shouted.
“Don’t let go,” someone else added.
That was going in hisBook of Pointless Commentsalong withhang on. He’d get Jonty to co-write it if he survived this. Just the sort of thing he’d like to do.Is that the sort of crap that goes through your mind when you think you might die?
Cato winced as he was dragged over the tiles, his arms scraping on the rough surface, the rope burning his trapped wrist, but when his knees were on the tiles, he dared to hope that he’d make it. A slow steady pull until hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up over the wall to safety.
“Thank you,” he managed before he started to shake, the tremors as violent as if he’d been caught up in an earthquake.
His knees went from under him and he slumped, saved from hitting the ground by Max.
Max lowered him down and knelt by his side. “Oh God. I thought I’d lost you.”
You already have.But he didn’t have the strength to resist when Max wrapped his arms around him. Paramedics were grouped around Vigge. The police had Pedro in handcuffs. Somehow Cato had expected him to be protesting his innocence, claiming that he’d been trying to stop him falling, that he’d come up here and found Cato stabbing Vigge… But Pedro was strangely subdued, the opposite of the man who’d been ranting a few minutes ago.He’s crazy.
Max took off his coat and wrapped it around Cato’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” Cato muttered.
When he tried to get to his feet, a paramedic made him sit down, but Cato needed to know if Vigge was all right.
“Max, see if Vigge’s okay,” he whispered.
“All right.”
Cato answered questions as best he could while he was checked out, but as Vigge was taken off the roof on a stretcher, Cato felt all his remaining strength drain out of him. His wrist was killing him. He wished he could just shut everything down for a while. Close his eyes and wake when the world was right again. Max’s coat was removed and an emergency blanket wrapped around him instead. Max was insisting Cato was taken to hospital, that more questions had to wait. And for once, Cato was grateful that Max was so bossy.
Max knelt at his side and whispered, “He’s still unconscious. One stab wound to the right side of his scapula. He has a partially collapsed lung.”
Cato’s heart started to race again. All this was his fault. Every solitary monstrous second of it. Right from when he’d met Marcie. For once, a woman who just wanted a night of fun, of stringless sex. She might have come onto him, but the result was the same.Look whatI’ve cost all of those who followed her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vigge opened his eyes and blinked. Cato was there, sitting on a chair pulled up to the bed Vigge lay in, resting with his head on his arms. Vigge’s confusion intensified.Am I in hospital?He moved his arms and legs, grateful they obeyed his instructions, though the effort made him breathe heavily.Ouch. Hurts.He tried to remember what had happened, but his mind stayed jumbled.The party… Sam…Pedro…Vigge lifted his hand to Cato’s head.
Cato’s eyes shot open and he gasped as he sat up. He pressed his lips to Vigge’s, kissing him gently. Vigge swallowed hard.
