Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“I’m...” Canaan’s head bobbled, and Renzo’s blood turned to liquid nitrogen.
“Do not look down. Listen to me. You can do this. I know you can. Grab my hand.”
The seconds dragged on. One. Then another. And another. A few more raindrops hit Renzo’s face. “Now.”
With a mighty lunge, Canaan grabbed Renzo’s hand, and Renzo hauled him up, using every muscle he had to get Canaan on that ledge right as the heavens opened up, rain pelting them in earnest.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Canaan rubbed his wrists and glared at Renzo. “Was climbing really necessary?”
“Listen.” Renzo heard the roar coming, low at first, then more insistent as a veritable wall of water came rushing through where they had stood minutes earlier, water coming high up the narrow canyon they had vacated.
“Oh my god.” Scrambling away from the ledge, Canaan made it to a large boulder before he puked. Renzo kind of wanted to join him. They’d come so damn close to being swept away, and he was just one Canaan slip away from being alone on this ledge. But instead of hurling, he took some steadying breaths and gave Canaan his space, making sure he was finished before he found a water in his pack and unscrewing it for Canaan.
“Drink a little. Slow.” After handing over the bottle, he rubbed Canaan’s back. Above them was more cliff face, enough of a rocky outcropping over them that they were slightly sheltered from the storm. They both settled in the driest spot farthest from the edge. Canaan took a few shaky sips, then seemed to collect himself.
“Uh. Dude. This ledge goes nowhere.” Canaan surveyed the space as Renzo did the same. Renzo had been praying for a miracle of some kind, but instead, the large half-moon shaped ledge was broadest in the center, tapering to two narrow points rather than connecting with any other route out of the slot canyon. Below them, the flash flood churned, a mad rush of deep water where moments before there had been bone-dry rock, rain continuing to come down in sheets from the darkened sky.
“Storm literally came out of thin air.” Renzo sidestepped Canaan’s observation for a moment. “Guides said we’d have clear skies all weekend.”
“Shit. The guides. Everyone else. Renzo.” Canaan’s eyes were wide and terrified. “Do you think we were the only ones in the slot part of the trail? Like the slow people were back in the wide section and the fast people were through the narrows already?”
Canaan’s questions came one after another, hitting Renzo like an emotional hailstorm, forcing him to take another set of deep breaths before answering honestly. “I don’t know. I don’t know how long the slot canyon is. I didn’t hear voices.”
“But they could all be dead.”
“Chances are very high that they’re stranded and soggy right now.” Renzo put an arm around him, hauled him closer. “Try not to play the what-if game.”
“Should we yell? We should right—”
“Save your energy. Nothing’s going to get heard over the storm.” Renzo locked him up tighter, like that alone could keep shock at bay.
“So what do we do now? You’ve got a plan, right? Tell me you have a plan.” Canaan’s words were still coming at triple speed.
“I have a plan,” Renzo lied. “But right now, we’re going to have to chill. Wait. Gotta let the storm pass.”
“Okay.” Canaan’s nods were on the same adrenaline trip as his voice, too fast and earnest. “Okay. I can do that. I can wait.”
“Good.” And maybe by the time the storm finished, Renzo really would have a plan. Maybe.
* * *
Canaan sucked at waiting. Waiting on a ledge, in the middle of nowhere, in the pouring rain, with a Renzo who’d gone completely silent was among the hardest waits in his life. Vibrating out of his skin was a real possibility, and as the minutes dragged on, he started to hum.
“Is that a Kirby’s Revenge song?” Renzo asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah. First track we put out. Sorry. I’ll try and be quiet.”
“Nah. It’s okay. Whatever gets you through. You’d be surprised how many of my buddies hum or ramble on when we have to wait and we’re not under a strict silence order. Just do what you need.” Renzo wrapped an arm around him again, gave him a quick squeeze before dragging his backpack closer.
“Shit. I am so sorry about losing my pack.” Fresh guilt hit Canaan. Watching his backpack tumble had been a singularly awful moment, especially because he’d been terrified he was about to follow the pack down to the canyon floor.
“I’m not. You were brave, letting it go. And smart. Important thing was that you be able to climb.” Renzo offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Only reason mine didn’t slip was I had the chest clip on. Now let’s take inventory.”