The boy, wanting to get off the stage as badly as Maria did, practically threw the flowers at her and ran. How Maria wished she could follow. Instead, she stood and faced the podium like a grown-up. It was time to give her thanks. As she cleared her throat to begin her “speech,” whispers from a group of women in the far back corner of the auditorium grew from hushed and constrained to urgent and intense.
“He needs help.”
“They don’t know what to do.”
Instantly, Maria calmed. There was an emergency. She could smell it. Her breathing slowed and her head cleared.
“Please,” said Mrs. Wolfgramm, trying to divert attention back to the stage. “Ladies, I’m not done up here. We still have—”
It was hard to see what was going on in the darkened audience chairs. To Maria, it appeared that several women were standing. Someone walked down the aisle.
“We need the house lights on,” Maria ordered into the microphone. She had no idea to whom she was speaking, but large overhead lights burst on. Maria blinked several times, helping her eyes adjust to the brightness. A group of ten or so women were huddled together. One of them was crying, holding her stomach as if it might rip apart.
Was she in labor?
No, she was too old for that.
“It’s Linda Erickson’s son,” someone in the group shouted out. “He’s stuck climbing in the Cracks. His friends are there and say he’s in a bad way.”
In less than two seconds, Maria was off the stage and headed in the direction of the terrified woman. Maria had no idea what “the Cracks” were, but she planned to find out. Another second passed and Rod was at her side, jogging up the aisle.
“How long has he been stuck?” Rod asked, his Search and Rescue training springing into action.
A woman pulled her phone from her ear and answered Rod in a loud voice. “They say he hasn’t been able to go up or down for about half an hour. He was free climbing so he doesn’t have a safety line on.”
Someone was stuck rock climbing. A kid. Teenager probably. Scanning the group, Maria saw the woman who had appeared in pain earlier. Now it was clear she was bent over hyperventilating.
While Rod gathered information about the stranded climber’s location from the woman on the phone, Maria cleared space around the shaking, hysterical mother, Mrs. Erickson she assumed. “Someone call 911,” Maria said. “We need an ambulance here. She’s going into shock.”
The woman standing next to Linda Erickson dialed her phone and began talking to dispatch.
Maria turned her attention back to the group of women. “How far away are the Cracks?” she barked.
“About twenty minutes outside of town,” someone in the crowd answered.
Rod looked at Maria, frustration in his eyes. “My gear’s at my house. That’s fifteen minutes away.”
“I’ve got mine in my trunk.” Maria kicked off her shoes. “Tell the kid to hold on and that someone will be there in ten minutes.” As she spoke, she unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt and slipped it off. Underneath, she wore a pair of black running shorts and a gun holster velcroed around her upper thigh. Running toward the green exit sign of the gymnasium, she yelled, “Rod, hurry! I need you to show me where to go.”
Rod let his eyes drift for a second to her skirt on the floor and then back to the disappearing form of Maria. “Coming,” he called and took off at a sprint.
CHAPTER TWO
The easy access to the center of the fabled country can be deadly deceptive. Once in the mountains and off the main trails, searchers for the lost mine are greeted by some of the most rugged, hazardous, and inhospitable terrain in the world. Steep cliffs, rocky wind-tortured and heat-infested canyons, scarcity of water, rattlesnakes, death; all are there.
“FOOL’S GOLD,” BY ROBERT SIKORSKY, GOLDEN WEST PUBLISHERS, 1983, PAGE 17.
How Josh Erickson got as high as he did without falling sooner was a miracle. A senseless, ill-fated miracle. If he’d slipped when he was only thirty feet up, he might have survived. But at his current position, at least seventy feet in the air, he was in an impo—
Maria interrupted her own thought. Nothing’s impossible. Instead, she made herself think of the words of her former CIA director. There are only bad situations.
And this certainly qualified as one.
A very bad situation.
The Cracks were a series of incredibly beautiful and terrifyingly steep slot canyons in a sector of mountains outside of town. As Maria expertly strapped on her harness and secured her rack of equipment around her waist, she searched for the path on the cliff wall Josh must have taken to get where he was.
At the bottom of the slot canyon, the two walls were so close all Josh must have had done was stem up them for at least twenty feet. It would have been as easy as climbing a hallway or a door frame using opposite pressure with both hands and feet. At that point, however, the slot widened. Josh had taken the east wall, free climbing, using natural handholds and cracks in the rock’s surface.
An un-established route without gear.
Stupid, adrenaline-hungry teenager. It endeared the kid to Maria. She could picture herself having done something like this. Still could, in fact.
“It was a dare. A dumb, dumb dare.” A blonde, big-eyed teenage girl had her arms wrapped around her waist. Her whole body shook. Next to her were three other teenagers. They interrupted and talked over each other trying to explain what had happened as Rod fastened the belay harness on himself. Maria only half listened. Instead, her eyes scoured the wall’s terrain—chaussy and brittle. From the amount of crumbled rock on the slot canyon floor, it appeared that as Josh had climbed up, his holds had broken off, effectively giving him no way back down. And as to why he hadn’t kept climbing up was anyone’s guess. Pain? Panic? Or maybe the wall wasn’t as flat as it appeared. He might have hit an overhang that wasn’t visible from below.
Whatever it was, Josh now hugged the cliff, holding absolutely still, seventy feet in the air. He looked paralyzed.
He probably was. More or less.
A very, very bad situation.
“Don’t look down, Josh,” Maria yelled upward. “Keep your eyes on the wall. I’m coming up to get you. Your job is to be as still as you can and hold on.”
She wasn’t sure he could hear her that far up. The canyon wind sucked noise in and spit it out as a faint whistle.
Maria checked her equipment one more time.
Shoes. Check.
Cams. Check.
Nuts. Check.
Carabineers. Check.
Harness. Check.
She mentally went through the list. Usually she spent much longer getting ready for a climb like this one, but she didn’t have that luxury today.
“I’m ready.” Maria looked at Rod, who nodded.
“I’m secure here, too.” He planted himself in belay position.
The small group of shell-shocked teens backed up without either Rod or Maria telling them to, unconsciously distancing themselves in case the unimaginable happened.
After stemming up the narrow part of the slot in less than two minutes, Maria placed her first anchor above where the walls separated apart. There were some jugs, albeit brittle, to hold onto. But the wall had hardly any cracks. Not what Maria had been hoping for. She needed cracks to secure her nuts and cams into.
Seeking out her own hand holds, she moved up the wall, going more slowly now. But with every pull and lift she was that much closer to Josh. Many of the fragile jugs broke off at her mere touch, and she had to quickly grasp for another.
“Careful!” Rod hollered.
Not helpful.
Maria searched the wall for a better route—ideally a crack she could follow up all the way to Josh. But nothing led to him. The teen had managed to travel up the wall using the absolutely worst path possible.
It was time for Plan B.
Ignoring a loud noise from below, Maria focused on the wall’s terrain. With each movement upward, the groun
d was a different world—one on which she did not belong. The cliff was her world. It was the only thing that mattered now.
Muddled voices were carried away in the echo of the wind’s travels. Josh had not said anything—or at least he had said nothing loud enough for Maria to hear. To be silenced by fear wasn’t merely an expression. It was real. Maria understood that.
It was then she saw it. To Maria’s left, about ten feet west of Josh’s position, was a crack. It traveled up the wall in a way that would allow her to anchor herself often and travel more quickly. If she used it to reach Josh’s height, once there she’d find another way to traverse horizontally to reach him.
Maria pulled out a cam to fit into a two-inch-wide crack and inserted it inside, making sure it would hold firmly. It was the right angle and a perfect fit. Up the cliff she moved, securing new cams about every five feet or so, using them to attach her carabineers to for safety. Each time she anchored, the crack became more narrow, forcing her to use small nuts inside the crack instead of cams.
Maria was still below Josh, but she was getting closer. The sound of his sporadic, shallow breathing reached her ears. The boy was in panic mode. No doubt about it.
At this higher perspective, Maria saw that the cliff wall had looked deceptively flat from below. An overhang blocked Josh’s path. He had found one decent sized handhold that hadn’t broken off, and his feet teetered on a small rock ledge about an inch wide. His body shook from exhaustion and adrenaline
“Keep your eyes in front of you, Josh,” said Maria, in a calm, deliberate voice. She took another deep breath. The last thing Josh wanted to hear was that his rescuer was winded.
“I’m going to be coming to you. It’s really important you don’t reach for me. You keep holding exactly as you are until I have a solid grip on you and I tell you to release the wall, okay?” Maria’s position was horizontal to that of Josh’s, ten feet too far to the left.
Josh didn’t answer.
Maria continued, “I will use those exact words. I’ll say ‘release the wall’ and then you’ll let go. But not before, even if I seem really close, okay?”
Still nothing from the boy.
“I need you to let me know you heard me. Can you say ‘yes?’ ”
Another moment of silence and then a cracked “y-yes” broke the air.
“Okay, great.” Maria’s eyes scanned the distance between her and Josh while she spoke. There were a few jugs she might be able to use to make her way over to the teen. “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to make it down together just fine.”
“I’m going to fall.” Josh’s voice shook. He was crying. Tears dripped off his chin, unable to be wiped. Hands clung to small rock formations that were the only thing between him and a violent death seventy feet below.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to hold on and I’m going to come and get you.” Maria’s fingers fumbled to find the smallest nut she had in the equipment rack around her waist. After locating what she needed, Marie deftly used her hammer to insert it into the tiny crack, now no more than an eighth of an inch wide.
“I can’t … I can’t feel my hands.” Josh gasped, trying to get air.
“You’re going to keep your hands on the grips. They’re holding just fine. I can see them. You’re strong.” As she spoke her words of calm encouragement, Maria attached her carabineer into the newest nut she’d inserted. For a split second she let her gaze drop to the canyon floor. A woman with dark hair stood slightly behind Rod.
Good grief. Don’t let the boy’s mother watch.
Didn’t Rod have any sense? Why hadn’t he shooed her away? The next part of this rescue wasn’t going to be pretty. Of that Maria was sure. But without free hands to wave, there was no way to let Rod know to have the mother wait out of view.
The last thing any mother needed was the memory of her son crashing to the earth. His body mangled. Lifeless.
Maria knew too well what those kinds of memories did to a person.
Pulling on her line attached to the small nut in the crack, Maria checked to see if it would hold. It wasn’t the best. Was that give she felt?
Her eyes darted to Josh’s panicked frame. His white knuckles. His quivering legs. Closed eyes. Whimpering.
She hated to do it, but she needed another nut. Quickly, she slammed another anchor into the crack and hit it with the hammer. She attached herself to it and checked it for stability. Pulling once. Twice. Three times.
Was she being paranoid, or had she felt some give again?
Could it hold both her and Josh?
Maria wouldn’t be able to anchor again until she made her way over to the teen, got a hold of him, and they eased their way back to her established route.
And she wasn’t sure if the second nut would hold.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Hurry.
Seconds seemed like minutes as she placed a third nut in the crack.
This was not the time for mistakes.
Josh’s cries were getting louder.
A pull on the new line felt solid. It was time to close the gap.
“Hold on, Josh,” Maria said. “Don’t come to me. Remember, I’m going to go to you.”
Slathering her hands in chalk, Maria looked for the strongest jugs she could find. They were spotty, but there were some. Enough. She could do this.
Maria’s hands crimped onto a thin ledge of rock, the tips of her powerful fingers keeping her steady. Slowly. A deep breath calmed the rise in adrenaline she’d built while placing the nuts. She moved several feet closer to Josh. The whiteness of his knuckles wasn’t from holding onto the rock. His face was as white. And the small gag-like breaths he took were indicative of shock. She had to get him off the cliff.
Maria used another hold to get another foot closer—she was within five—maybe six feet. However, the closer she got to him, the harder his body shook. Her presence wasn’t calming him—it exacerbated his panic.
“Ahhh.” One of Josh’s trembling feet slipped off its hold. The other foot and two hands were still attached—but for how long?
“I’m going to fall!” Josh screamed.
Maria knew she only had seconds.
If that much.
And then Josh’s fingers slipped.
One.
By.
One.
CHAPTER THREE
Over the centuries many have gone [into the Superstition Mountains], but none remained for long. Each was sure that he or she was the only person destined to succeed where all others had failed at their quixotic search for the mountains’ fabulous treasure. Most were doomed to fail, and nearly all would come to strange, tragic ends.
“MYSTERIES & MIRACLES OF ARIZONA” BY JACK KUTZ. RHOMBUS PUBLISHING COMPANY, 1992, PAGE 16-18.
In her younger years of rock climbing, it was Maria’s pride, her desire to show off, that drove her to perform her dyno move—the one in which she’d leap off the wall and travel to a new hold yards away.
Today, it was instinct.
Both feet pushed instantaneously off the cliff and she flew toward Josh, arms outstretched. She smashed into his body as she saw Josh’s last finger slip off its hold.
Maria desperately grabbed at anything she could. She wanted a waistband or belt.
Instead, she got a wrist.
She clamped her hand around it, and she and Josh began to slide down the cliff wall … together. The ground was a blur. The world in slow motion. But gravity found them all the same. Maria felt its pull, tugging them downward.
Her stomach lurched at the feeling of falling. Still, she held onto Josh’s wrist and wrapped her arms around him.
There was only one question on her mind.
Would her anchors hold?
Maria leaned into the cliff, trying to slow their descent by hitting anything that might be poking out of the wall. Friction. They needed friction. Who cared that the cliff wall scratched at her arms like a herd of possessed cats.
They
fell several more feet and then—
Wham!
Josh screamed.
The initial force of Rod catching them mid fall jolted Maria, pulling her harness even more tightly around her legs. From below Maria thought she heard Rod yell something. Her focus, however, was on keeping her hand around Josh’s wrist until she could attach a modified harness to him.
Hanging from her line, swinging back and forth, Maria’s worst enemy should have been gravity. But it wasn’t. Perspiration was. Josh’s wrist was hot. So was her hand. Why hadn’t she used more chalk?
“Josh.” Maria said it loudly even though the two were only inches apart. You have to grab onto my equipment belt with your free hand. Can you do that?”
Only whimpers.
“You have to help me, Josh. I need to get this harness around you. Grab my belt and hold on. It will only be for a second.”
“I can’t.”
“You have too. Now!”
He gripped her waist belt. Maria shoved one of the straps of the modified harness into his other hand, and awkwardly they moved, like one-handed twins fighting for space inside their mother’s womb.
“Okay, wrap this around your waist and I’ll catch it on the other side.”
Josh moved slowly. His hand trembled so badly, but even so he did as he was told. At last, the harness was around his waist. With him holding one end of the belt, and Maria the other, they attached one of the harness clips.
A small success.
“Josh, I need you to take this strap in between your legs and snap it in the clip by your belly button. Do you see it?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, do it now.”
Panting, her own hands numb as she held onto Josh in the air, Maria waited for him to clip the second strap. At last she heard the click of his harness. Josh was attached to her. Wherever they went, they went together.
“Okay, you’re good,” Maria said. “You can let go of my belt and let’s get down this—”
Maria felt the faintest release on the line. Most people would not have noticed it, but something in Maria’s mind did. Or was it in her gut?
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