Precipice of Doubt

by Mardi Alexander

  Chilli looked at her and wagged her tail. Cole leaned over and kissed the dog’s head. “Let’s go on back and start getting some dinner together for the adventure crew.” Chilli offered up a single bright bark. “Don’t worry, bub, I have something special planned for you too, my friend.”

  A cheese and fresh fruit platter was sitting in the fridge, which Cole had made up earlier, with strawberries, kiwi fruit, and apricots from Pip’s garden. But it was the main meal that she spent the next hour and a half preparing. She chose a variety of vegetables from Pip’s garden and made one big, and several small, chicken and vegetable pies. The process of making the puff pastry by hand was slow but cathartic. It reminded her of growing up and helping her grandmother in the kitchen.

  Cole turned up the oven, making sure it was hot to ensure the pastry would puff up before the butter melted and ran out. She filled the pies and lowered the tray so Chilli could see what she had made. “See that one? That one’s special—that one’s yours, Chilli dog.” She laughed softly as Chilli woofed.

  “And then we set the timer…and now, we wait. My money’s on them being back about four. So if all goes well, you and I can catch a snooze on the couch and still be as fresh as a daisy for when they all come tumbling through the door.”

  Charlie closed her eyes against the headache that’d started to encircle her brain. It seemed to increase with each beat of her heart. “Didn’t see it.”

  “What? The snake?” Pip whispered. She eased herself down next to Charlie mindful of Big Bird, and laced her fingers with Charlie’s.

  Charlie nodded.

  “Sneaky bastard.”

  Big Bird screeched a warning.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” Charlie lolled her head towards the eagle. She opened her eyes carefully, squinting against the bright sun. He’s gorgeous.

  Big Bird chortled quietly.

  “Sweet,” Pip said, barely above a whisper.

  “Mm.” Charlie rolled her head to the other side and instantly regretted it. A sharp spear of pain penetrated her skull. She moaned.

  “Try not to move. Jodi and I are—”

  Big Bird screeched and tried to flap his wings. One of his huge taloned feet reached out and blindly tried to take hold of something. Finding nothing, he lowered it and sat still again.

  “Pip. You have to move away so I can let him go. It’s the only way. He’s getting too strong for me to hold.”

  “Kay.”

  Charlie felt, rather than heard, Pip move away. She instantly missed her comforting presence.

  “Let him go, Charlie.”

  Charlie slowly relinquished her hold on him. He stood still with the jumper over his head. When she eased it off, he shook his head to resettle his feathers and stared defiantly at Pip.

  “Go on, buddy.” She nudged him away from her. It broke her heart to have to push him away. But at this point, her life was dependent on keeping Pip and Jodi safe from her protective eagle.

  He rubbed close to her and then turned. A gust of wind flowed over the outcrop. He bent low, spread his wings, and leaned into the wind. Within moments he was circling above, floating on the early afternoon thermals rising from the valley below.

  Jodi and Pip sprang into action. Jodi had managed to drag two medium-sized poles up top. Charlie watched through half-lidded eyes as Pip removed the belts on the backpacks.

  “Jodi, lay the poles side by side over the gap, about a body width apart.”

  Jodi slid them over the crevasse towards them.

  Pip tightened the shoulder straps on both packs as tight as they would go and then tied the ends into the securest knot she could manage. She then wove one of the belts through the straps at the bottom of each pack, effectively joining them together. She tied the end of one of the ropes to the handhold at the top of the pack and then repeated the process with the other. Pip pulled on each strap and rope end to make sure there wouldn’t be any slippage with Charlie’s weight. She then slid the pole ends through the looped straps. When she was done, she checked the knots one more time. The sling was crude, but one that would hopefully get Charlie over the gap and safely to the other side.

  “Okay, Jodi. Grab the end of this rope.” Pip tossed it to Jodi, who handily caught it. “Stand on the ends of the poles and try to keep them from moving. We’re going to try to slide Charlie over on top of the packs.”

  “Sweetheart, I need you to help me out now.”

  Charlie opened her eyes. “Thirsty.”

  Pip unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and held it to Charlie’s lips. “Little sips, babe. Don’t overdo it.”

  Charlie swallowed. “Okay.”

  “As slowly as you can, I need you to slide yourself over and onto the backpacks. It’s not going to be the most comfortable, and will probably feel awkward, but it’s the only way we can get you over onto the other rock. Can you do that? I’ll try to help you as best I can.”

  Charlie put her hands flat on the rock and pushed herself over to the packs. She made the mistake of looking down into the gap and nearly vomited. She stopped and took some more deep breaths before dragging her bound legs behind her. When she lay flat on the packs, she closed her eyes. She was exhausted and cold sweat covered her body.

  “Jodes, when you’re ready, slowly start pulling her across. I’ll steady her on this end with this rope.”

  Charlie felt a sharp tug and then felt the backpacks start to drag over the surface. The rings of the packs screeched against the rock, as inch by inch the makeshift sling upon which she was suspended moved in jerks and starts. Suddenly all movement stopped.

  “What’s wrong, Jodi?”

  “I think one of the straps is caught.”

  “Crap.”

  Charlie felt a tug in the opposite direction.

  “Try now.”

  The sling moved a few inches and came to an abrupt halt again.

  “Charlie, can you very carefully rock yourself from side to side?”

  “Can try.” Charlie pushed up onto her elbows and leaned her weight to one side and then the other. There was a single moment when the left pole shifted and she thought she was going to flip the entire sling upside down and fall into the crevasse. But somehow the sling righted itself. Jodi pulled her the remaining distance without incident. As soon as her shoulders met the rock on the other side, Jodi slid her hands into Charlie’s armpits and dragged her completely off the sling and onto solid rock once again.

  “Charlie, my love, you did great. Now lie still while we fashion a way to get you down onto the ground. Oh, hey, look up. Big Bird’s still here. I think he’s watching over you.”

  Charlie blinked hard as two enormous birds circled just metres above her. They were so quiet she thought she might be imagining them. Pip and Jodi scurried around her. She didn’t pay them any attention. She just couldn’t. Deep down she knew she was suffering from shock. She tried hard to forget the moment when she’d turned around and saw the huge snake lunging at her leg. But the vision kept repeating itself over and over. Her heart sped up and she came close to hyperventilating.

  Pip appeared at her side once again. “Deep breaths, my love. You need to slow your heart rate down or you’ll push the venom deeper into your body.”

  Charlie nodded and looked into Pip’s calming eyes. Pip was her anchor. She needed to trust what she said. Do what she was told to do. Pip would not let her down.

  While Pip tended to Charlie, Jodi untied the rope from the packs. She ran one end around the base of a huge round rock. She then fashioned a sort of harness at the other end and brought it over to Charlie. Pip helped Charlie push her arms through the knotted loops and used one of the pack belts to secure the rest of the line around her waist. It was a crude harness of sorts, but it would do the job. She then threw the backpacks down on the main trail.

  “Okay,” Jodi said, taking the play out of the rope. “Charlie, we’re going to lower you down feet first. Pip will guide you from below while I let the rope out a little bit at a t
ime. Just relax. Let us do all the work.”

  Pip grazed Charlie’s forehead with her lips before standing up and disappearing below the edge of the rock.

  Jodi held the rope behind her back and leaned against it. She put one foot in front of the other and braced herself. “Okay, Charlie, slowly scoot towards the edge. Pip is down there and will guide your legs and support you as you go. If you need to take a break, just say so.”

  Charlie nodded and pushed her legs forward to the edge.

  As Charlie’s legs rocked downward, Jodi held on tight, gritted her teeth, and grunted with the effort. Her hands burned as the rope slid through them. She silently wished she’d brought a pair of gloves. Suddenly the rope went slack.

  “Is everything all right, Pip?” Jodi took up the slack rope.

  “All good. Charlie is having a rest. We’ll be good to go in a sec.”

  Jodi relaxed for a few moments until the rope went taut again.

  By the time Charlie was finally safely on the ground, Jodi’s hands were red and on fire. Blisters had formed, popped, and bled. She slowly unclenched her stiff fingers from around the rope, fighting back tears as it ripped more skin from her wounded hands. The pain was excruciating. She clenched her fists and, using the meaty part of her wrist and palm, started to climb down the rock face.

  She managed to make her way about halfway down by bracing her body and arms against opposite rocks. There was only one more onion skin rock to navigate. The rest of the way would be loose rocks and sand. She stopped, looked down, and tried to make a plan of descent. Blood dripped slowly out of her clenched hands. She’d just have to open her hands to grip the tiny ledges on the rock face. She bent her knees and lowered her right foot, reaching out with her right hand to push against the rock. Her feet slipped out from under her—she’d miscalculated. She stifled the cry when she felt a painful pop in her ankle as she hit the rock surface below, the jar reverberating all the way to her teeth. She held her breath and bit her lip, trying to ignore the white-hot pain shooting through her leg. She slid down the wash on her bum. She didn’t even have to look—she’d sprained her ankle badly. She made a silent vow to not let on to Charlie and Pip. They had enough to worry about. All of them did.

  “Jesus, Jodes, look at your hands.” Pip grasped one and gently opened it. When Jodi winced, Pip carefully folded Jodi’s hand back into a fist again. “We need to attend to those hands before we go any further.”

  “No.” Jodi shook her head adamantly. “I don’t need them to walk, and we certainly don’t have that kind of time. A few hours won’t make a bit of difference to these mitts. I’ll help you put the travois together and then I’m heading out.”

  “Jodes, your hands are so important. I can’t—”

  Jodi stood quickly and wished she hadn’t because she’d carelessly put more weight on her ankle than she’d intended. An involuntary grunt passed her lips before she could help it.

  Pip scrutinized her and frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Just a little stiff in places that I’d forgotten about. Let’s get moving.”

  Although Jodi couldn’t move her fingers that well, she was able to help Pip assemble the travois by holding the poles between her wrists while Pip tied the backpacks to them again. This time, however, she used Jodi’s pack as well to produce a makeshift bed between the two poles. With a leftover belt strap, Pip managed to attach each end to a pole. They got Charlie situated on the travois and then Pip stepped inside the harness, between the two poles. She grasped a pole in each hand and, by leaning into the belt, was able to drag it quite easily.

  “You good?” Jodi took a long drink of water from her canteen.

  “Yep. Except I don’t know the way out of here.”

  Jodi stopped to think. “I only have a little fluorescent tape to mark my trail.” She put the back of her hand to her forehead and partially covered her eyes to think. “Okay. It won’t be a problem. In the trees, I’ll just bend some branches over. In rocky areas, I’ll build a little cairn and line up three or four stones in the direction I’m heading.” She looked up at the sky. The clouds were on the increase, but so far they weren’t the heavy dark ones indicative of impending rain. “All right. I need to get going.” Jodi gave Pip a quick hug, then walked to the back of the travois. “You just relax and let Pipsqueak do all the work. We’ll get you out of here. I promise.” Jodi kissed Charlie on the cheek.

  “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be ready when help arrives.” Charlie reached up and squeezed Jodi’s forearm. “Take care of yourself, and be careful.”

  “Will do, sweet.” Jodi nodded to Pip. “Okay. I’m off.” It took everything Jodi had within her to bear the pain in her ankle and not limp. Fortunately, there was a curve in the trail not long after she left Pip and Charlie. She stopped and took a quick rest. The effort took her breath away. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist. She looked around and found a stick she could use as an improvised cane. One more drink from her canteen and she was off.

  She had to backtrack a couple of times when it occurred to her that she’d forgotten to mark the trail. Thankfully, she’d been able to keep ahead of Pip.

  Her thoughts eventually turned to Cole. She missed her. She could almost hear Cole reading her the riot act for worrying her. They were most definitely going be late getting home, and she had no way of warning Cole, or asking her to send help. Jodi limped her way over to a tree and laboriously tied a fluorescent tag on it, leaving enough free to blow in the wind and attract Pip’s attention.

  At work Cole had always seemed to read her mind and anticipate her every need. Jodi hoped that Cole could anticipate her needs once again and raise the alarm to send help. Jodi swapped hands on her support stick and limped on. Even though they were miles apart, she needed Cole and her intuition now more than ever.

  Charlie woke at a jolt. Pip had stumbled and nearly dropped the frame she was resting on. She felt far from great. Her headache was still very much present and her stomach continued to roil like a small boat on the ocean. But she surmised she was no worse, at least that she could tell. Pip, on the other hand, was tripping and stumbling along an unseen pathway. “Pip.” Her voice barely carried. She cleared her dry throat and tried again. “Pip. Can we stop and take a break?”

  “Huh?”

  “A break. Can we just stop for a minute, please?” Charlie wanted to get a look at Pip to gauge how she was doing. Charlie guessed, from the angle of the sun, that they were heading into late afternoon. She must have fallen asleep. She couldn’t remember seeing Pip have lunch, and given the way the travois had been lurching about, she wanted to make sure Pip stopped and refuelled.

  Pip stopped. Charlie waited for her to put the frame down, but after half a minute, she found herself still suspended in mid-air. “Pip. Put me down, babe. On the ground. That’s it.” She winced as her head met the earth a little more suddenly than she had expected. “Come round here and sit next to me.” She patted the earthen floor beside her. From the corner of her eye she saw Pip turn and totter slightly her way, sinking to her knees, then her bottom, to rest beside her. Charlie rummaged around in the bag that was tied to the frame she was resting on, and pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich. She searched around for more food but came up empty. She unwrapped the lone sandwich and handed Pip one half. “Chew on that for a minute.” Pip stared at her, slightly glassy eyed. She held the sandwich out again. “Eat.”

  Pip reached for the bread with a shaky hand and put it in her mouth. Slowly, she took a bite and chewed in a laborious, mechanical way.

  “That’s the way. Good job, love.” Each time Pip lowered her hand, Charlie nudged her arm and raised the sandwich back up to her lips to take another bite, until at last, the meal was finished. “Well done. Better?”

  “Thank you.” Pip yawned.

  “Tired?”

  “Mm.”

  Charlie held her arm out wide. “Come lie down for a minute.”

  Pip sh
ook her head. “Can’t. Need to keep going, while I can.” She got up clumsily. “Only got a handful of hours of daylight left.”

  Charlie ignored her headache for a moment to look around at where they had stopped, trying to mentally orientate where they were. “I can’t see any pink tape.”

  “I think Jodi’s run out. Been following stick marks and footsteps in the dirt and some rock markers for a while now.”

  “Oh.” Charlie felt disorientated from time and tried to process what had happened and where they were. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why is there only one sandwich in the pack? There should be at least two.”

  Pip looked a little shamefaced and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Ah. Well. A funny thing, that.”

  “How so?”

  “Turns out your budgie likes ham and cheese sandwiches.”

  “Come again?”

  “I had to stop and retie a couple of the straps on your frame. Big Bird decided he would come down and supervise. Make sure I got it right, I suppose.”

  “Uh-huh.” Charlie sipped at the bottle of water Pip offered her.

  “And, well, he kind of insisted on being close. Real close. So I tore up one of the sandwiches and threw him pieces to keep him busy.”

  “I see. And the snacks?”

  “I ate one and shoved one into Jodi’s jacket, along with her sandwich, before she left. There should be another couple of snacks in there.”

  Charlie delved back into the pack and searched around. She undid the two zippered compartments, each time coming up zero before turning the bag inside out. Turning the pack upside down she spied a hole in the bottom of the bag, the threads torn and loose. She put her fingers through the hole and held up the bag, wiggling her digits at Pip. “Looks like we caught the bag on something. I think we’ve lost the snacks overboard. Apart from the water bottles, there’s nothing else in here.” Charlie bit the inside of her lip trying to estimate when Pip would need more food, but her headache was making her calculations stall. “How long have you got, babe? Till you need something to eat?”