Ronald Malfi - The Ascent

“It’s in the middle of Godesh Mountain,” Petras said. “It’s adifficult climb, but the Canyon of Souls isn’t as high as twenty-six thousand.” He shot me a glance, and I waited for him to wink. “I don’t think so, anyway,” he added. The wink never came.

“You afraid your heart’s gonna give out up there, Shotsky?” Chad said, running a hand through his bleached hair.

Shotsky waved a hand at him. “Fuck off, snow bunny.”

“Because I ain’t gonna drag your rigor mortis ass back down the hill; that’s for damn sure,” Chad went on. Had they been friends, Shotsky would have most likely continued to wave Chad off. But they weren’t friends—they’d just met this evening, in fact—and it was evident Chad’s words were irritating Shotsky. “Or maybe I’ll just ride you down like a sled,” Chad added, oblivious to Shotsky’s growing agitation.

Shotsky’s face creased. His hands balled into fists on the table. “How ‘bout I ride you like a sled, fuckface?”

“Cool it,” Petras said.

“Whoa.” Chad balked, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean nothing by it, bro. I’m cool. Just making light of the whole thing.” His gaze swung in my direction. “Right, Shakes?”

Something snapped inside me. I sprung across the table and grabbed a fistful of Chad’s sweater. With my free hand, I struck him on the left cheek, which caused his head to jerk to the right. I refused to release the hold on his sweater even after his chair tipped and spilled him to the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Petras muttered into my ear. His big hands were on my shoulders, prying me off Chad. “Ease off, Tim. Ease off.”

Finally I released my grip and allowed Petras and the others to drag me across the table.

Hollinger bent over Chad and asked if he was all right.

Chad laughed and scooted against the wall, his eyes locked on mine. I found myself praying for his nose to start gushing blood—somehow I thought that would make the scene all the more dramatic—but that

never happened.

“Nice,” he called to me, grinning. “Got a hell of a swing there. Guess this is amateur hour, huh?”

“Asshole,” was all I could muster. Petras was still holding me back.

Andrew appeared in the doorway, smiling down on us like the Creator Himself. “Very nice display,” he said, applauding. “Glad to see you boys playing nice together. I’m sure there exists a more than suitable quote about men growing up into boys or something like that, but I don’t know any.”

“He started it,” Chad barked. A second later, he must have realized how childish it had sounded, because he chuckled.

“I can’t let you ladies out of my sight for one second, can I?” Andrew said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. “How’s the food?”

“Ain’t the food that’s the trouble,” Shotsky growled.

“Tastes like the padding of my sneakers,” Hollinger commented, perhaps in hopes of diluting the tension, “but at least it’s hot.”

“The food’s purifying,” Andrew said. “I want all of us to be cleansed and ready for the climb. No smoking joints, no alcohol, no greasy cheeseburgers.”

“God, I could use a joint,” Shotsky said.

The guys laughed. Even Chad seemed to loosen up.

“It’s the air up here. The altitude is different. Makes us act crazy, like a bunch of psychopaths. But we’ll be okay, won’t we?” When no one answered, Andrew repeated, “Won’t we?”

“Sure,” said Petras, and all heads turned to look at him. He was by far the most imposing figure among us.

“Here’s the deal. I’ve already been in your rooms. I’ve left some equipment for each of you. Everyone is responsible for their own equipment.” Andrew surveyed the group, as if in anticipation of revolt. “There’ll be a bus outside the lodge this Saturday at six in the morning to take us into town. We’ll pick up whatever else we need before heading out to the Valley of Walls. From there, we’ll have ateam of Sherpas take us through the pass to the base of the Godesh range. It’ll be a full day’s hike. We’ll climb to the first plateau and establish base camp. We’ll spend one more night there before leaving the following morning to climb. It’s a steep climb, and we’ll be going alone, just the seven of us, for several days.”

“Lucky seven,” Curtis muttered.

“You all need to be rested and prepared for strenuous conditions. If you get sick or feel you can’t make it once we’ve begun, it’ll be up to you to either establish sanctuary and wait for us to return or make it back to base camp on your own. If you wish to enlist the help of anyone else to carry your ass down to camp, just keep in mind that no one here signed up for this journey with the hope of sitting in a canvas tent for two weeks, sipping hot chocolate and listening to their iPods, while the rest of us climb. You’re all here because I have faith in each and every one of you.” A disconcerting smile crept across Andrew’s features. “We’re going to be the first team to cross the Canyon of Souls.”

This sparked an eruption of cheers and applause from the group. I couldn’t help but smile, either … while deep in the recesses of my brain I recalled the fire behind Andrew’s eyes that night in San Juan when, stark naked and pale in the moonlight, he leapt off the cliff and into the black night air.

Abruptly Andrew turned and walked out of the lounge.

“He’s leaving already?” I whispered to Petras.

“He’s a strange dude, all right,” Petras said, rolling his massive shoulders.

I hustled out of the lounge and up the winding iron stairs to the main lobby of the lodge. Andrew was zipping up his jacket and heading toward the doors.

“Hey,” I called.

He paused and swung his head in my direction.

“Got a minute?”

“What’s up, Overleigh?”

“You’re not gonna stay and chill out awhile?”

“What are we, in college or something?” Again, that curious grin of his appeared, and his eyes narrowed. “Did that sound abrupt? Goddamn, I can never tell how I’m going to sound until the words spill out.”

“Listen,” I said. “Do you know a guy named Shomas? Big guy? Local?”

“Never heard of him.”

“He stopped me outside my cabin to warn me about climbing Godesh. Said it was a canyon not meant to be crossed. He seemed pretty adamant about it.”

“Come on. It’s local superstition. He’s probably some guide who’s pissed he didn’t get the job.”

“Well, yeah, he said he was a guide …”

“Then there you go.”

“I think he broke into my room, too.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When I went back to my room, someone had gone through all my stuff. I thought maybe someone had robbed me, but nothing was taken.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

The problem is nothing was taken, I wanted to say. The problem is that big behemoth had been in my room rifling through my luggage… and didn’t take a single thing…

“What was he looking for?” I said. “If he didn’t take my money and my valuables, what the hell was he looking for?”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you? You’re shaking like a tuning fork.”

“Forget it. I’m fine.”

“You’re sweating, too.”

“Never mind.”

“Look,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. Inwardly I cringed. “If you’ve got something missing, report it to the lodge. They get thousands of travelers here every year; they won’t stand fortheft scaring away the tourists. But if nothing was taken, then consider yourself fortunate that you scared the guy off before he could rip you off. Simple as that. What more do you want?”

It was a fair enough question. I had no idea what more I wanted. I wanted Hannah, and I suddenly wanted to be back in my tiny Annapolis apartment, but I couldn’t say those things to Andrew. Not at all.