D. Thomas - Backlash

“I’m glad it’s not me on the rope,” said Gonzalez. “You two would give me a weight complex with all the noise you’re making.”

“Tell me about it,” Pierre added from just below the ledge.

“Ready?” Lewis asked.

“Ready, lower me on down.”

Gonzalez kept the protective shoe in place as the big men slowly let out more rope, allowing Pierre to walk down the slick wall in a controlled manner. He was down about ten steps when a rumbling explosion shook the cavern, knocking Lewis and Craig from their perch. Pierre’s weight wasn’t much, but it was plenty to drag everyone from the crack as the Frenchman quickly accelerated down the slippery walls.

Pierre was still moving at least 20 miles per hour when he shot over the edge of the first pit, dropping headfirst into the darkness below. Gonzalez was sliding sideways on her back a little ahead, and to the left, of where Craig still clung to the rope. Lewis brought up the rear on his stomach, clutching the rope with one hand while frantically groping for some sort of handhold with the other. The surface was just too smooth and slippery, causing Lewis’s hand to squeak as it rapidly slid along.

“Grab her!” Lewis shouted to Craig as he tried to increase their drag by digging in with his toes. Craig was able to snag Gonzalez’s hand less than ten feet before they were to plummet into the hole after Pierre. The large bodyguard almost lost his grip on the rope as it began bouncing violently behind him. He looked to see that Lewis had somehow gotten to his feet and was now skiing along behind them like a water skier cutting hard to get away from the boat’s wake.

Lewis quickly realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop their descent before they all sailed into the hole with Pierre. Instead of trying to slow down, he chose to roll around and get to his feet so he could at least try to steer. He angled his feet hard as the floor nearly leveled off, fighting to drag everyone to the right. His single shoe was squeaking as the rubber slid over the polished surface, the socked foot slipping along silently, useful only for balance at this point. Lewis’s only hope for saving everyone was to aim for the next pit over, hoping to get there in time to balance out Pierre before the Frenchman pulled all the rope in after him, or plummeted to the bottom of his pit.

Moments before the rope ran out, Lewis plunged into the second pit, pulling Craig and Gonzalez in with him. The rope sprang tight the instant Craig fell into the hole, the abrupt stop causing the bodyguard to lose his single-handed grip on the rope. He still clutched Gonzalez with the other hand as they both pounded into Lewis like a runaway freight train. The collision almost knocked Lewis from the rope as well, but provided enough of a pause for Craig to quickly renew his grasp. They all swung for a moment, on the verge of slipping into the void, before Gonzalez was able to get a hold of the rope just below Lewis, allowing everyone to readjust their grip.

“Remind me not to hang out with you two again,” Lewis said, cringing a bit at his own pun. Gonzalez simply groaned. Lewis then shouted upward. “Pierre, are you okay?” The groans and curses told Lewis that at least they were all alive.

Lewis awkwardly rubbed his head against Craig’s hip, trying to spin his headlamp back around after being knocked to the side by their tumble.

“Whoa! I’m not that kind of guy,” Craig said when he felt Lewis nuzzling his hips.

Lewis laughed then explained, “I’m just fixing my light.”

“Are you two done?” Gonzalez asked, the strain noticeable in her voice. “I can’t hold on for much longer.”

Lewis could also see the stress on her face. His own hands were in serious pain from gripping the rope. He also knew that they had to work carefully or they all might still be pulled in on top of Pierre.

“Okay, Jennifer,” Lewis said calmly, “can you use Craig and I like ladders to climb out of here?”

Gonzalez didn’t answer. Instead she just began crawling her way upward. With her feet on Craig’s shoulders, she was able to grip the top of the pit and drag herself up and out. Gonzalez could see that the sharp edge of the pit was quickly cutting through the rope like a warm knife through butter, as the rope slid towards Pierre’s side now that the weight was unbalanced. “The rope is splitting! Brace yourselves!” she screamed seconds before the rope was severed.

Craig and Lewis had just enough time to turn back to back, pressing their legs into opposing sides to wedge themselves in place. Pierre wasn’t tall enough to accomplish the same feat by himself, instead he plummeted helplessly to the bottom of his pit. The good news was the bottom was only another 15 feet down. Unfortunately, the 80 feet of rope that was attached to him tumbled into the hole as well. As Pierre looked for any possible climbing route out, Craig and Lewis worked together to essentially walk out of their predicament by keeping pressure against the other’s back and alternating small steps towards the top. When they were close, Gonzalez was able to reach out and grab both their hands to pull them over to solid ground.

Pierre remained trapped. He wasn’t able to find a way up, and he had the only chunk of rope long enough to effect a rescue. Despite multiple valiant attempts, Pierre was unable to throw the rope up to his would-be rescuers.

Ready to try a different tack, Lewis removed the 15-foot section of parachute cord from his front left cargo pocket. He wished he could have found more back at the boat, but this would have to do. Gonzalez eyed him like he was crazy, but said nothing. Next, Lewis pulled out his Leatherman multi-tool, using it to slice open the outer sheath on the short section of cord, revealing seven smaller strands inside. He then outlined his plan. “If we tie these strands together, we should have a long enough string to fish Pierre’s rope back out of the pit.” Both Craig and Gonzalez smiled their approval.

They all worked together to transform the inner workings of the parachute cord into a string approximately 100 feet long. It was then just a matter of lowering their new string to Pierre, who tied it onto the end of his rope. Lewis and Craig pulled the string up to get the rope, and the rope up to get Pierre. Pierre actually had to untie the rope from around his chest, gripping a smaller loop in the end to make it long enough to reach. If the pit was even a few feet deeper, he would have been really stuck. The French mountaineer was a little battered but nothing appeared broken and he seemed to have avoided serious injury.

“Did you find anything interesting while you were down there?” Lewis asked Pierre.

“No. It just ends.”

“Ours too,” Lewis said with a shrug. “Although we didn’t investigate the bottom as closely as you did.”

“ Actually , I did find this,” Pierre said, handing Lewis the shoe he had taken off earlier.

Gonzalez called from the third pit. “Guys, come look.” The solemn tone in her voice told Lewis what he would find before he even looked: Stonewood. The man who had brought them all together now lay in an awkward heap at the bottom of the third pit.

“Must have fallen in like I did,” Pierre said. “Only he didn’t have a rescue crew in tow.”

Lewis looked closely. “Odd, he doesn’t have a flashlight.” Lewis’s thoughts jumped back to the earlier suspicions of foul play in the cave-in.

“I bet he’s lying on it,” Craig offered. “Do you think we can get down to him?”

Lewis shook his head. “I don’t think so. This pit looks deeper than Pierre’s. We can try the rope to be sure, but I don’t think it’s long enough.”

Pierre gave it a test and found that Lewis was correct: the rope was a good twenty feet short. As Pierre coiled the rope, he said, “After we get back to camp, we could come back with the longer rope.”