by Willow Dean
About two thirds of the way up I begin to tire. Giving myself a little breather, I decide to look around at the scenery. The holds I currently have purchase on are just about big enough to allow me a small reprieve.
Instead of the beautiful landscape though, it’s Larson who catches my eye as he skillfully makes his way up the rockface. It’s clear he’s not a novice as I presumed.
There’s another lesson for you right there guys and gals…don’t underestimate your opponent or make assumptions! They’ll come back to bite you in the ass.
Approaching a difficult section of the wall where the holds are wide enough to just use fingertips, he takes his next hold as something on his set up snags my attention. His rope looks odd.
Altering my purchase to allow me to take a proper look, I think I spot the problem. Although I couldn’t be certain, it could just be my vantage point, but the rope looks thinner in various points.
I know my kit through and through, so I know it shouldn’t look like that. I’m about to say something when the fluttering of material draws my eyes. His harness is frayed half through.
This is bad. Really, really bad. If he falls, his harness and rope will snap and he’ll have nothing to arrest his fall.
I start traversing across to his side, changing my anchoring points as I go. He’s on a very difficult part of the wall so I can’t shout for him. If I do, I risk him missing a hold and could potentially cause him to fall.
Reika must have either seen what I was doing or noticed the damage as well as I can hear her coordinating the guys below in case he falls. About forty-foot in the air right now, if he falls and his rope doesn’t hold out, it could be game over for him.
Knowing Reika, she’ll already be ensuring the guys form a sort of netting for him, potentially hurting themselves in the process, but at least then everyone would be alive. I can’t concentrate on them now though. My focus needs to be on getting to Larson.
I anchor my last point when I hear him scrabbling for purchase. My head snaps up to see him miss his foothold, hanging on by one hand. Just as he manages to find purchase again, before he advances, I take the opportunity to warn him.
“Larson! You need to come down. Your rope is frayed and your harness is unusable,” I shout, desperately hoping he heard me over the wind at this height.
“You just don’t want me to show you up, Princess. You watch, I’ll get to the top faster than you did.” Dismissing me, he turns his focus back to the holds.
God damn it! Why does everyone think I want to one up them?! Why can’t he look past his inflated ego of his and let someone give him some sound advice for once?
Seeing as he clearly isn’t going to listen to me, I decide to just follow and try to support him if he falls. Maybe if I can get closer to him and show him the damage, I may be able to talk some sense into him.
I continue to make my way across so that I’m directly underneath him should anything happen. I’ve just finished setting my last anchor point when I hear him scrabbling for purchase again. This time, he loses his remaining handhold and drops. The harness yanks him back for a second and I can only hope it holds.
Nope. He’s hot out of luck.
The rope and harness snap simultaneously as he lurches back and away from the wall, plummeting towards the floor.
Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. Plans race through my head as I watch him start to drop. I’m still not fully underneath him, I just hope that I can clear the distance in time.
Changing my holds, I gather all the strength I have and jump, pushing away from the wall in his direction. Our only hope is that I can reach him before my momentum changes and brings me back for my harness to catch me.
I’m just about below him as I feel myself start to descend and gravitate back towards my anchor point.
Just one more second. Please!
I scream at him, driving my arm out as far as it will go. “Take it!” His stricken gaze meets mine as he turns himself towards me mid fall and reaches out in my direction. Our fingertips graze.
If it were anyone less experienced their hold wouldn’t be strong enough. Fortunately, he is more experienced than I thought, and as free climbers who frequently use only a fingertip to hold their entire body weight, we are both well equipped.
Our fingertips lock together as momentum tugs me back and forces him to follow. Twisting over, he maneuvers himself and grabs my wrist with his free hand, solidifying his grip.
Swinging back to my anchor point, we both crash against the wall just as the karabiner in my solo-device breaks from the heavy impact. We both descend a little further before my backup knot catches us and we slam back into the rock face.
Taking a minute just to breath, we let our adrenaline settle. Garnering a small squeeze from Larson, who is still hanging onto my wrist, I hear his whispered gratitude clear as day.
“Thanks, Mila. I owe you. Big style,” he says breathlessly, the appreciation in his voice completely genuine.
Huh. Larson thanked me. Who would have thought it’d only take a life threatening situation for him to be nice?!
“No problem. Now, how do you wanna go about this? I have spare rope so I could have attached you to my system, but your harness is bust too.”
“Tie the rope around my waist and we can climb down side by side. I should be fine from here anyway. The holds aren’t difficult on this side,” he observes as he eyes the wall next to me.
Once he finds solid holds, he lets go of my hand and I go about readjusting my equipment to make it safe for the descent. Tying the rope around his waist and onto my set, I recheck the equipment before dropping just a little lower than him so I can catch him if he falls again.
I swear, this knight in shining armor thing is meant to be the other way around. I’m meant to be the damsel in distress, not all these men!
Making our way down slowly, so as to not tempt fate, it isn’t long before we are back on solid ground. Before I can even make it to the floor though, a set of large hands grip my waist and pry me away from the wall.
Equipment still on and attached to Larson, I’m crushed in a giant embrace and squeezed so hard that I can barely breathe.
I instantly know it’s Rick. Not only is he the biggest out of all the guys, but he always goes deathly silent when I’m hurt or in danger, and the big behemoth that continues to hold me tightly hasn’t uttered a word.
“All right, Brucey. I’m fine, really. It’s mister big ego over there that was in danger not me. You can- Pu- Me down now- Ca- Bre,” I wheeze as I pat his back like a mad man.
Dropping me like a sack of hot coals, I desperately suck in all the air I can as he storms towards Larson who just finished removing his equipment.
Despite the desperate need to regain more oxygen, I snatch Rick by his arm and haul his ass back. He tries to resist, so I get up in his face and fix him with an intimidating look, of which he dismisses immediately. Growling, he steps forward again, causing me to take a step back in shock.
He growled at me. He legitimately just growled at me. Oh, hell no! Whacking him hard upside the head, he just stands there stunned.
“Do not growl at me, Richard.” He cocks his head in confusion. Yes…I know his full name isn’t Richard, but it got his attention didn’t it? “Stand down, Tiger. I am perfectly safe and unharmed, and can fight my own battles, thank you very much.” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking a hip.
No way does he get to growl at me. That’s completely uncalled for! Against my better judgement, I flinch as he reaches out to wipe my cheek, his hand coming away red.
Welp…that may explain his reaction a little better. I hadn’t realized I’d cut myself. Hell, smashing into a rock face did hurt a little, but I’m used to it.
“I am fine, Tough Guy,” enunciating each word carefully, I look him straight in the eyes. “It’s just a scratch,” I reassure him before patting his arm and heading over to see Larson.
Larson regards me with eyes full
of sincerity as he holds out a fist. I return the gesture. “Thanks again, Mila. If it weren’t for you, I would have been a goner. I can- I am- I guess, I can be-” His cheeks take on a light pink hue as he goes silent.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
“A douche? Arrogant? A dummy for not checking his equipment like he should? Yeah, I know. It’s cool. No harm done,” I shrug nonchalantly, giving him a smirk, letting him know it’s all in jest.
Displeased scoffs resound around my group as Reika bursts out laughing, nearly bursting at the seams. Larson stands there with his mouth a gape as I give him an easy smile.
“It’s all good man. I’ll forgive you. Truce?” Offering him my hand, he takes it in a firm shake and graces me with an easy smile. “Just next time, make sure you check your equipment before you head up, yeah?” I say seriously.
On hearing that, his expression quickly changes from one of amusement, to confusion and then rage. I wince as his grip on my hand tightens painfully.
Ah shit, he thinks I tampered with his equipment to prove a point, doesn’t he?!
The malice on his contorted face tells me everything I need to know.
Ahh hell, way to go, Mila! You just had to go and put your foot in it, didn’t you?
On a more positive note, I think we just set the record for the shortest truce in history.
Fantastic!
31 Austin
Striding over to the group with the remains of what was Mila’s old climbing kit in my hands, I work hard to bury my anger. “Someone tampered with your equipment.”
Mila extracts her hand from Larson’s tight grip and takes the tattered remains off me to inspect the damage. Turning the equipment over, she dissects every inch of it, from all different angles.
One of the things we all noticed right from the very start with Mila, was that she is always so meticulous in everything she does. Whether it be cleaning her room or scoping out a simulated extraction. Even when I first met her, drunk at the party, she had a certain quirk about her.
Constantly assessing her surroundings and everyone around her, she rarely misses anything. Needless to say, we’ve teased her mercilessly about it. She has a habit of describing every single detail, almost down to a microscopic level, when recalling information or trying to describe an event.
At first, we all thought it cute to see how invested she is in the world around her. However, we soon realised that those specific skills are not developed from something so naive. More often than not, a skill that intense is developed as a means of survival or protection.
Looking closely, you can often catch the glint in Mila’s eye that proves the theory. A hidden pain that she buries so deep, that even she forgets about it sometimes. Nevertheless, her level of skill is heavily sought-after in our line of work, especially one so refined.
Obviously she’s not superhuman, so she still misses things on occasion, often becoming silent and reclusive when she does. Our girl is way too hard on herself, but we wouldn’t have her any other way.
My mind strays to the hacking session we were put through the other week.
Jax outsmarted Mila and managed to infiltrate her system and shut her down completely. Having missed a minute error within her coding, her mistake allowed Jax to get past her firewalls. Not only that, but she tried and failed to overcome the safety precautions he put in place.
Once we got home, she retreated to the study and refused to speak to anyone. All until she finally managed to refine the coding that gave her access to Jax’s system and completely destroyed his work.
Despite being so young, Jax is -or was- the best hacker Census has to offer. Even the most experienced of agents can’t get past his firewalls. Yet, Mila managed to crack them wide open in the space of only a couple of hours.
Simply passing it off as if it was a mediocre high school math equation, Mila processed her success as a relief. A way of amending her shortcomings. Mila truly doesn’t know the extent of her own abilities, and she’s always so damned hard on herself, that I don’t think she even realises how talented she actually is.
Jax fared a little differently. Astounded and completely ruffled, he couldn’t comprehend how she’d managed to get past his walls. Jax spent hours locked away in the study trying to figure it out for himself. Unlike Mila, he was completely stumped and emerged a while after to get Mila to show him how she’d managed it.
That had never happened before. Not to Jax, the Wizkid of the programming world.
Another habit Mila has, is that no matter who she is with, she locates and pinpoints the position of every exit and person within a room. Whether consciously or subconsciously, she positions herself so that she’s able to see everyone and everything within a certain space, whilst maintaining a clear exit plan.
Alongside this, she catalogues every physical feature of a person. From the number of freckles on their nose, to the different colors in their eyes. Each piece of jewelry they wear to the sewing pattern on their clothes.
Both are traits seen in abuse victims and commonly used coping mechanisms for traumatic events. Why Mila would exhibit these though, I don’t know. It’s obvious it’s not from recent events. The skill is far too developed for that.
Meaning, that something must have happened to her at some point prior to meeting us, for her to have developed such habits.
Turning my attention back to her, I watch as she inspects every part of her kit. No detail missing her attention.
Rotating the rope between her fingers, she inspects the frayed edges before moving onto the harness. She starts to murmur out loud, as she so often does when she’s deeply concentrating. It’s adorable and by far, one of her sweetest traits.
“Someone definitely tampered with my equipment. The edges are clean cut, most likely with a small blade. No burn marks corresponding with friction on the climb. No uneven edges suggesting wear and tear. I know for a fact that this kit was clean yesterday after training. I always inspect my kit before and after use, making sure to repair it straight away.” She looks up. “Micah, you definitely got this from my locker?” She checks, giving him an uncertain look.
“One hundred percent your locker, Lala. I couldn’t exactly get it wrong. Your key fob won’t open up any other locker,” he shrugs.
“This was no accident, Micah.” He looks at me. “Was there any sign of forced entry on her locker?”
“No. Nothing at all.” Certainty is strong in his voice as his expression turns worrisome.
I gaze over at Rick to check his thoughts. The fury that reflects back at me, like a mirror of my own, is all the answer I need.
“This was clearly meant for you, M. Someone has access to your locker and we need to find out who.”
Mila and Reika share a look before bursting into hysterical laughter. Leaving us all in a state of bewilderment and causing my anger at whoever did this to escalate. The need for answers demanding me to say something.
“What are you laughing at?” I bite out, frustrated at being left out of the loop.
“Oh, just that I can think of a certain pathetic little girl who would love to see me crash and burn. What I don’t get, is how she managed to get past the lock.” Mila shrugs, dismissing the whole situation far too easily.
“How can you be so calm about this?! You could have really injured yourself if you had used that equipment and weren’t so experienced!” I growl, my temper really beginning to boil.
“That, Aus, is where you are wrong.” Sidling up closer, she places a hand on my arm and gives a discerning smile. “If she was intelligent enough, she would know that I double check any equipment before a climb. If she knew me well enough, she would know that I am an experienced climber and take safety very seriously.
“No matter how small the damage dealt to the set before the climb, I would have noticed and would never have used it. It was a foiled plan to start off with.” Patting my arm, she apologizes to Larson for the state of the equipment and then reprimands him for not safe
ty checking or buddying up.
After her lengthy lecture, he appears somewhat duly chastised, which is unusual for his pompous egotistical ass. They exchange some more words before they fist bump again.
“You all wanna head for a drink? I think we could all do with unwinding before tomorrow?”
Reika strides up to Mila’s side and puts an arm across her shoulders, pulling her in close. “Sure thing, sugar tits. I’m all up for a good time.”
Licking Mila’s ear seductively, she earns a giggle in response.
“I look forward to the entertainment,” Mila purrs with a squeeze to Reika’s ass before they hip wiggle their way back to the SUV’s.
What. Was. That?! Mila’s not gay, surely? She would have told us. Right?!
Rick, the twins and Jax all look equally as puzzled as I feel. Sam, Jarrett and Larson however, are a different kettle of fish.
They aren’t exactly helpful when they bend over at the waist, howling with laughter at our lost expressions. Without a word, they head off together in the direction the girls left, providing us with no answers. Nothing at all.
“Are they- I mean…What-” I stutter, too stunned to even form a sentence.
Rick’s hand drops on my shoulder as we watch the girls say their goodbyes. “I don’t know, brother. I really don’t know. Guess we’ll find out later,” he shrugs, sounding far too inquisitive for his own good.
Everyone splits, piling into their respective SUV’s. I’m just glad I volunteered to drive, allowing me to miss out on being situated in the middle of an awkward silence.
Mila shares the middle seats with Micah and Jax, who look wholly uncomfortable. Completely laid back, Mila reclines back in her seat looking very pleased with herself, clearly oblivious to the atmosphere surrounding her.
After a few tense minutes of silence, Micah cuts the tension. “So…” He draws the word out. “You swing for the opposite team huh, Lala?”
Not even a second goes by before her vivacious laughter fills the air. Finding Micah’s gaze in the mirror, he stares back at me, wide eyed in horror.