Софи Келли: Final Catcall

Chloe looked around. There was no one on the boardwalk, nearby or in the distance, no one chasing a dog across the grass, no kissing teenagers getting busy under a tree.

I thought about what I’d learned from Maggie about visualization. I could hear her voice in my head: See yourself there .

I saw myself on that narrow rock ledge. I saw myself alive. And then before I had a chance to think about what I was going to do, I did it.

I jumped.

23

I flung out my arms and caught nothing but air for a moment. Then I hit the rocks and started to slide, almost out of control. I wasn’t sure which way was up. I scrambled for something, anything to hold on to while gravel pelted me like rain and above me on the embankment Chloe screamed.

And then my feet connected with something solid. I bent my knees and shifted all my weight forward, trying to hug the rock wall. Jagged bits of rock jabbed through my clothes and scraped my skin. My right foot slipped on the slick face of the rock ledge, but my left one held. The top half of my body kept sliding. There was nowhere to find a handhold—and then suddenly my fingers caught an edge of rock. I held on for dear life with one foot and one hand.

There were rocks in my hair, dirt and bits of gravel in my eyes and mouth, and I was scraped and bruised, but I was alive. I eased my free hand down and wrapped my entire arm around a large rock that jutted out beside me. Over my head I could hear Chloe calling my name. I hoped that meant she couldn’t see me. I fought the urge to cough and pressed myself tighter against the rock face.

Slowly I bent my right knee and pulled my leg in closer to my body. My hands were trembling and my left leg was cramped, but I had no intention of letting go. I closed my eyes while my breathing slowed to normal—or as close to normal as I could get.

I turned my head to the right, the only direction I could really see anything. I was less than five feet from the riverbank. If I could get down without Chloe spotting me, I could run to the marina for help.

A stream of gravel skittered down the slope and hit my shoulder. I tipped my head and looked up. Incredibly, Chloe was starting to climb down. I had to start moving. I knew that once I did she’d know where I was. I was banking on the idea that she wouldn’t be able to climb and hold a gun at the same time.

I shifted my weight, the way I would in tai chi class, and felt below me with one foot. After a moment I found a foothold. I loosed my death grip on the rock to my left and began to climb down. That started another slide of rocks and gravel, but I kept moving, feeling for a handhold and then another place to put my foot.

I didn’t think about the palms of my hands, scraped raw, or the stab of pain in my right ankle every time it pressed against the huge boulders. I just kept moving downward, down to the riverbank and safety.

A rock as big as my fist bounced off my shoulder. I sucked in a sharp breath as pain ran from my shoulder to my wrist. My fingers went numb and lost their hold on an edge of rock. My body shook, holding on with four fingers and one foot to just inches of rock. Then my free foot found an edge and I caught my balance again.

A smooth piece of stone bounced off a boulder beside me and arced out into the water. I looked over my head in time to see an arm launch another rock, about the size of a turnip, down the embankment. It hit a rock maybe a foot over my head, sending a stream of gravel into my face. Chloe had stopped climbing and was throwing rocks, trying to knock me off the rock wall. Caught in a place where the wall curved, I couldn’t see how far away the ground was. I was guessing less than three feet. I pushed away from the rocks and jumped out and back, hoping there would be something soft to land on.

My feet hit a patch of scrabbly bushes and long grass. My left ankle gave way and I landed hard on my hip. But I was down and I was safe. Staying low to the ground, I crab-walked farther down, onto the riverbank, squeezing myself into a space between a massive boulder and a patch of tall grass.

I wasn’t sure I could run to the marina. I wasn’t even sure I could walk. And I’d lost my phone.

Chloe was moving again, working her way slowly down the rocks.

Where was Marcus?

I felt around on the ground for something, anything, I could use to defend myself. I found a piece of stone about the size of my hand, edges smoothed by the water. I curled my fingers around it and slowly eased upright, grateful for the sound of falling rocks dislodged by Chloe that masked any noise I made.

She made it to the ground. I saw her look down at her feet and I realized too late that she could see my trail, marks that my hands and feet had made as I scrambled to what I’d thought was safety.

I was out of choices. I ran at her, or maybe fell at her was closer to the truth. I swung the rock, catching her on the right side of her head, just above her temple. She crumpled like a wet paper bag. I lunged for the gun, threw it in the general direction of the water and heard a reassuring splash.

Chloe was breathing but knocked out. I had no idea how long she would be unconscious or if I had hurt her. I pulled the scarf from around her neck, rolled her onto her side and tied her hands together behind her back at the wrists. Then I pushed her onto her stomach and sat on her legs. I kept the rock on my lap. If she tried to move I wouldn’t have any problem hitting her with it again.

I heard someone calling my name, up at the top of the embankment. When I opened my mouth to answer, it triggered a coughing fit. Finally I managed to take a breath and call out, “I’m down here.” My voice was raspy and raw, but whoever it was heard me.

“She’s here,” I heard him yell.

“Kathleen, are you all right?” I heard after a moment’s silence. Marcus .

“I’m okay.”

“Where’s Chloe?”

Chloe was starting to stir. I leaned sideways and dug my elbow into the middle of her back. “Don’t move,” I hissed. “Because I will hit you again.”

“She’s right here,” I yelled. “She’s not going anywhere.”

I could see movement at the top of the rock wall and after a moment someone started climbing down. Whoever it was was much better on the rocks than I’d been. It wasn’t until he was almost to the ground that I realized it was Officer Derek Craig.

He had a rope fastened around his waist and underneath his armpits. He slipped out of the loop of rope and made his way over to me.

“She had a gun,” I said. “I threw it in the water.”

He nodded. “We’ll find it.” He glanced at Chloe’s wrists, trussed by her scarf.

“That’s pretty much every knot I know,” I said.

He had the good grace not to smile.

When I stood up, my ankle buckled. “I’m not sure I can climb.”

Derek helped me step into the loop of rope and pulled it up under my arms. “You don’t have to. Hold on. They’re going to pull you up.” He looked to the top of the rocks and gave the rope a yank. “Ready,” he yelled.

And then I was moving up over the rocks, slowly but surely. I tried to help as much as I could, pulling with my hands, pushing with my good foot. And then the edge of the grass was just above me. I dug my fingers into the ground and pulled as hands reached for me. I threw myself into a pair of strong, warm arms.

Andrew’s arms.

24

The next hour was a blur of activity. Paramedics checked me out and then I was taken across the street to one of the private meeting rooms on the main floor of the hotel. The palms of both my hands were bandaged and my left ankle was wrapped. It wasn’t broken, just badly sprained.

I gave Detective Lind the bare bones of what had happened. She narrowed her eyes at Marcus. “Remind me to say no next time you come to me with some harebrained scheme,” she said.