On Edge

by Raelyn Drake

  Trevor chuckled weakly. The sweat was still pouring down his face, leaving tracks in the coating of rock dust. “I know we’re lucky to have survived,” he said, “but right now I’m mostly just upset that our plan didn’t work. We were so close.”

  “And now we’ve got an even bigger problem,” Micah said, gesturing ahead of them. The boulders and debris that had come loose in the rockslide had piled up at the bottom of the canyon. The way forward was blocked off.

  “We’re going to have to climb over that now, aren’t we?” Trevor asked, his voice flat.

  “Unfortunately, yeah,” Micah said with a heavy sigh. “Going back north is still pointless. That doesn’t leave us much of a choice.”

  Before they attempted another climb, Micah insisted that Trevor take a break in the shadow of a giant boulder and drink some water. Meanwhile, Micah used the emergency whistle to signal again. After the echoes from the whistle blasts faded away, they listened carefully for an answer—voices, another whistle, anything. But once again, there was nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the canyon.

  The climb up the sloping canyon wall had been rough, but climbing over the pile left by the rockslide was even worse. The rocks kept shifting under their feet. Micah was worried that if he slipped his leg would get trapped between two rocks, and the leverage would snap his bone. Yet again, Micah wished that he could use both of his arms to balance as they scrambled over the rock pile that was half as high as the canyon itself. Small pebbles skittered down the pile behind them, and occasionally larger rocks clattered and thumped as they shook loose.

  “What are we gonna do if we have to spend the night in the canyon?” Trevor asked suddenly.

  Micah was focused on testing the stability of the rock he was about to put his weight on, and the question surprised him. “I don’t think we need to worry about that just yet.”

  “I’m just trying to plan ahead,” Trevor said, breathing heavily.

  Micah noticed that his face was clammy and that his eyes were glassy and unfocused. He wondered if his friend was even thinking clearly at the moment. He had heard that snake venom could mess with your mind after you were bitten.

  “It’s barely past lunchtime,” Micah said, frowning. “Let’s just focus on getting over this obstacle, and then we can worry about tonight.”

  Trevor nodded thoughtfully, then narrowly avoided stumbling when a rock rolled under his foot. “It’s just that I didn’t bring a sleeping bag or anything, and the desert gets cold at night—”

  He’s definitely not thinking clearly at all right now, Micah thought. “Why don’t you save your breath for climbing,” he said out loud.

  Trevor was gasping for breath by this point, and Micah was glad that his friend listened to his advice. He tried not to think about how all this climbing was probably pumping the venom around Trevor’s body at a much faster rate. Micah’s thoughts ran on a loop. We should have stayed where we were, he criticized himself. I shouldn’t have let Trevor move after he was bitten. I should have thought this through.

  They had reached the top of the rock pile. The climb down was still tricky, but at least they were able to lean back, and even sit on rocks as needed, crawling down the unstable pile.

  It was a huge relief when they finally reached the canyon floor on the other side. It wasn’t like their situation had really changed—they were still trapped in the canyon with who knows how much farther to go, but at least they had been able to conquer one of the obstacles in their way.

  Micah’s relief turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he looked at his watch and saw how much time they had wasted just to move another thirty feet down the canyon.

  “How long did that take us?” Trevor asked.

  Micah looked at him. His friend looked sicker than ever, but at least the glassy, confused look in his eyes had faded a little.

  “We’re actually making really good time,” Micah lied, forcing a smile. He had to keep a brave face for Trevor’s sake, even if he was beginning to lose hope himself.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TREVOR

  Trevor was staggering now. The pain in his swollen leg was nearly too much to bear. His heart was racing like he was sprinting, but it took all his energy to keep moving at a zombie-like shuffling pace.

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. But as painful as it was to keep going, the only thing worse would be giving up. So Trevor kept moving—one foot in front of the other.

  Over the scuffing of his feet on the dirt below, Trevor thought he could make out a faint noise coming from above. It almost sounded like—

  “Did you hear that?” he asked Micah, scanning the tops of the canyon walls for any sign of movement. Nothing in particular caught his eye. Just the dry grass and succulents, and the cloudless blue sky framed on either side by the reddish sandstone.

  Micah stared at Trevor for a beat too long before opening his mouth to answer.

  Trevor cut him off with a huff. “Don’t give me that look, Micah. I’m not hallucinating. I really did hear something. It sounded like people’s voices.”

  “I’m not doubting what you heard,” Micah said quickly, still side-eyeing Trevor. “I’m just saying that I missed it.”

  “Look, it’s not like I’m trying to hug a cactus because I think it’s a person,” Trevor said sarcastically.

  “Why on Earth would you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Trevor mumbled, feeling even more embarrassed. “But can you please try signaling, just in case?”

  Micah blew the whistle again. They both listened in silence for a few moments, but nothing sounded out of the ordinary. Trevor began to think it had just been his imagination all along, and he couldn’t blame Micah when he shrugged and started walking again.

  Trevor stole one last glance upward before following. It was unsettling to realize you couldn’t trust your own senses. How was he supposed to tell what was real and what wasn’t?

  Time, for instance, was starting to seem just as hazy as his vision. He was pretty sure that Micah had lied to him about how long it took to climb over the rockslide. But he had no way of telling how much time had actually passed. For all he knew, the two-hour mark had come and gone already. Maybe it was only a matter of time before the snake venom finished him off.

  Sometimes when he tried to make sense of everything that had happened that afternoon, it felt like a jumbled fever dream with chunks missing. But then the brain fog would lift again, and he would wonder how he could ever have felt so confused.

  He kept catching Micah looking at him with fear in his eyes. But then Micah would smile at him in encouragement, and Trevor realized that Micah was trying to hide that fear from him. Trevor wouldn’t have minded if Micah had shared his concerns with him. He already felt like he was dying, and he didn’t see any point in lying to himself.

  Each step seemed harder than the one before, and soon Trevor had to ask Micah if they could stop again. He hated to have to do it, but he was afraid that if he didn’t sit down he would pass out. Woozy, he slumped against a rock for balance as the world seemed to spin around him.

  “Are you all right?” Micah asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “I’m not gonna lie, you don’t look so hot.”

  Trevor had never felt so sick in his life, but he forced a chuckle. “Nah, I’m just weak with hunger,” he joked. “Didn’t we bring some snacks with us?”

  Micah raised a skeptical eyebrow, but he nodded. “Yeah, some granola bars and stuff. I guess with everything going on we forgot to stop to eat lunch. Now that I think about it, I’m starving.”

  Trevor came very close to just collapsing to the ground when he tried to sit. He drank some water, then clumsily ripped the wrapper off the granola bar and ate it while he looked at their surroundings. When they were moving he didn’t have the energy to do anything but focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

  The canyon really was beautiful, and Trevor wished that they
’d had more of chance to enjoy it before that stupid rattlesnake had come along and ruined everything. Or before that bolt had come loose from the canyon wall.

  Trevor’s vision was getting increasingly fuzzy, and his head throbbed. He tried to focus on his granola bar, but even something as basic as eating seemed impossible at the moment. His stomach began churning. Suddenly he realized that Micah was asking him something, but it sounded like he was speaking underwater.

  “Sorry, what?” Trevor asked. Even his tongue felt numb.

  “I asked if you’re feeling all right,” Micah repeated, his eyes wide. “You look a little . . .”

  Trevor tried to suppress a moan. Sweat dripped from his hairline. He knew the feeling in his stomach, rising up to his throat. He leaned over and threw up.

  Micah jumped back as Trevor emptied the contents of his stomach until he was heaving but nothing was coming up.

  Trevor sat back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. For once, he felt too sick to be embarrassed about throwing up.

  “Well, that’s not a good sign,” Micah said flatly, his eyes wide. He looked a little nauseated himself.

  “Forget the rattlesnake,” Trevor grunted. “I think my stomach is trying to kill me.” He took a small swig of water from the bottle and swished it in his mouth before spitting it to the ground. He felt bad about wasting the water, but he had to get that acidic taste out of his mouth.

  “Try drinking some more,” Micah said. “Just a little. You don’t want to get dehydrated now on top of everything else.”

  As Trevor took small sips, waiting to make sure he could keep the water down, Micah looked around them. “Look, we’ve got to be close to the end of the canyon. It’s so narrow here we’re going to have to start walking single file. Plus the canyon walls don’t seem as high here.”

  “Do we have any paper?” Trevor asked Micah out of the blue.

  Micah gave him a confused look.

  Great, Trevor thought. He probably thinks I’m going crazy from the snake venom. Then again, maybe I am.

  “Why do you need paper?” Micah asked.

  “Because if I—if I . . . die, I want you to have my gaming system—”

  “Don’t talk like that!” Micah said sharply. “We’re going to find you some help.”

  “—But I’m worried my sister won’t believe you if you tell her,” Trevor continued. “So I want to get it in writing.”

  “Are you seriously trying to make a will?!” Micah said.

  Trevor ignored Micah’s shocked expression and pressed on with what he wanted to tell him. After all, he wasn’t sure how much worse this was going to get. “I don’t know if I say this enough, but you do realize you’re my best friend, right?”

  “C’mon, man, obviously you’re my best friend too, but you don’t have to get all sentimental on me,” Micah said, looking touched but a little uncomfortable.

  Trevor was aware that his voice was cracking with emotion, but he was beyond feeling self-conscious at this point. “If only one of us can survive this—”

  Micah scowled. “I’m not going to let you die, got that?”

  “I appreciate that, Micah, I really do,” Trevor said, “but you might not get a choice. How long has it been since I was bitten?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

  Micah glanced at his watch and then glanced away, not meeting Trevor’s eyes.

  “Micah,” Trevor said. “How long? And don’t lie to me this time.”

  “An hour and fifteen minutes,” Micah mumbled.

  Trevor had been expecting an answer like that, but his stomach sank anyway. “That means my chances of survival are going way down.”

  Micah still wouldn’t look at him.

  “Look,” Trevor continued, “even if we figure a way out of here, it would still take some time to get me to a hospital. And my heart’s been pumping like crazy this whole time, flooding my body with poison. I think it’s time to admit to ourselves that it’s probably already too late.”

  Micah met his eyes. “Look, I get that you’re scared, Trev. I am too. But that’s no reason to give up. Someone could still hear us.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, man,” Trevor said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  Micah got out the emergency whistle and signaled again. But each blast echoed off the canyon walls and faded away into silence. There was still no answer.

  He stuffed the whistle in his pocket angrily. “You stay here,” he told Trevor. “I’m going to go scout ahead and see if I can figure out how close we are.”

  And before Trevor could protest about being left alone, Micah had disappeared beyond the next bend in the canyon.

  He reappeared almost instantly, his face grim.

  “I think there must have been another rock slide,” he said weakly. “And this one is worse. Right around the bend the entire canyon is blocked off with fallen rocks. We’ll never make it through that way.”

  Trevor was overcome by a wave of dizziness and sank to his knees on the floor of the canyon. “And we’ll never make it if we try to head back to the northern end of the canyon. Not now. It would take way too long. So that’s it, then,” he said numbly.

  Micah scrunched his eyes shut to concentrate. Trevor couldn’t believe that his friend was still trying to come up with a plan when it was clear they had been beaten.

  When Micah opened his eyes, he looked determined.

  “We can’t go south and we can’t go north,” he said. “That means the only way we can go is up.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  micah

  Micah couldn’t tell if Trevor was staring at him in disbelief, or if his friend was going to throw up again.

  “We can’t go up,” Trevor said. “We don’t have enough rope and there’s not a climbing route with bolts here.” He leaned back, squinting at the top of the canyon as if he was having trouble seeing it. “Why are you even bothering? We’re trapped down here, let’s just face it.”

  “Either we keep trying to get out of this canyon,” Micah said, “or we just sit here and keep using the whistle and hope someone gets close enough to hear us.”

  “You would survive at least,” Trevor muttered.

  “Not for long,” Micah said. “There’s only enough water for another day, tops, and I have no way to light a fire. It’s going to get cold and dark down here when night comes. People have been trapped in the desert for days before being rescued.”

  “But my sister knows we came here today to climb,” Trevor said. “She’ll tell our parents, and people will come look for us.”

  “Yeah, but they won’t know where exactly to start looking for us. They’ll check the part of the canyon with the climbing routes and the northern end of the canyon, and they might check the surrounding desert. Eventually they’ll look over here, but by then it might be too late for me.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Trevor said, looking deflated.

  “I’m not saying this to make you give up hope, Trev. I want to convince you to stop trying to sacrifice yourself. If you don’t want me to come up with a plan to save you, then at least let me come up with a plan to save myself, all right?”

  Trevor stared at Micah for a moment, then gave him a small smile. “All right. So what’s this last-ditch plan of yours?”

  Micah pointed to a deep crack in the canyon wall. The crack formed a narrow vertical passageway, like a chimney, leading from the floor of the canyon to the top. He sighed. “I think I might be able to free-climb here.”

  “Never mind,” Trevor said, “I’m out.”

  “You’re not the one climbing,” Micah said.

  “Yeah, but your arm is super broken and there’s no way you’ll be able to climb up that chimney without equipment.”

  “If I just put my back against the chimney wall on one side, and my feet on the other, I should be able to inch my way up without using my injured arm.”

  “And then when you fall again,” Trevor said grimly, “and
break your neck instead of your arm, what then?”

  “I’m willing to take that chance,” Micah said.

  “What if I’m not?” Trevor snapped.

  “I’d like to see you try and stop me,” Micah said. “I’ve already made my decision.”

  Trevor groaned, but Micah couldn’t tell if it was in frustration or pain because Trevor doubled over again, arms wrapped around his stomach.

  Micah made sure the backpack, whistle, and other gear were near Trevor so he would have food and water if he needed it before Micah could get to help.

  “Micah, there’s something I need to tell you,” Trevor said. “Peyton is planning to ask you to homecoming next week.”

  Micah stared at him in disbelief. He had practically forgotten about homecoming by this point. “What?” he said. “Why are you talking about this now?”

  “I just feel really guilty that I didn’t tell you earlier—”

  “I don’t care right now, dude!” Micah said.

  “But—”

  “You’re not thinking clearly,” Micah said. “We can talk about this later.”

  “There might not be a later!” Trevor protested. He opened his mouth to speak again, but all that came out was an agonized moan.

  “Trev?” Micah asked, concerned.

  Trevor seemed to be in too much pain to answer, and Micah knew that time was slipping away at an alarming rate. He coated his good hand with climbing chalk and hurried over to the section of wall he intended to climb.

  Free-climbing up a narrow chimney like this would be difficult, but it wouldn’t be impossible, Micah told himself. He couldn’t use both of his arms to balance or brace himself, but this sort of climbing was all about using your legs and back.

  Micah squeezed sideways into the crack. He set his back against the chimney wall on one side and braced his feet against the other. It was so narrow that his knees nearly touched the wall above his feet. Perfect, he thought. As long as it stayed that narrow all the way up, he’d be golden.

  As he began the slow, painful climb to the top, Micah tried not to think of what would happen if he fell. He really was willing to take that chance to save his friend—but if he fell and hurt himself, it wouldn’t do Trevor any good.