She took a deep breath, not letting herself think how impossible this was. They wouldn’t be tackling the vertical climbs; they would be looking for the absolute easiest way up—which would still be hell, but not quite the same degree of hell.
She didn’t have any hiking boots, so her only other choice was her athletic shoes. Instead of choosing spandex pants, she prepared for spending probably three or four nights in the mountains, at an altitude that often got chilly at night even in the middle of summer; that meant sweatpants. She had a pair with pockets that zipped, so that was the pair she chose, and laid them across the bed. She added several pairs of socks, plus clean underwear. Maybe she was being silly, but she couldn’t face wearing the same pair of underwear for four days. She put both pairs on. A silk T-shirt, tucked in. A hooded sweatshirt jacket, which could be tied around her waist. She tucked lip balm into one of the pants pockets, then fished around in her underwear drawer until she found her old Swiss Army knife; it went in another pocket.
Next she brushed out her hair and pulled it back in a snug ponytail to keep it secure; getting hair caught in any of the gear was painful. She stood there a minute, trying to think if she’d forgotten anything. Maybe her silk long Johns, in case the nights got really cold? They would be too hot to wear during the day, but they weighed nothing and took up practically no space. In fact, they would fit in the pouch pockets of the sweatshirt jacket.
When she thought she had everything, she got dressed. Two pairs of socks, one thin and one thick. The extra two pairs also went into her pants pockets. Then the pants, then her shoes, and finally she tied the jacket around her waist. Experimentally she stretched and twisted, seeing if her clothing hampered her movement in any way. It didn’t, so she was good to go.
Next stop: kitchen.
Cal entered the kitchen while she was dividing muesli into zippered plastic bags. He was laden with gear, all the harnesses and belaying devices, the biners and pins and anchors, the chalk bags, plus coils of thin rope. “How old are these ropes?” he asked.
Just like that, her heart dropped into her stomach. “Oh, no,” she said softly. “They’re over five years old.”
Synthetic rope deteriorated over time, even if it had never been used, and these ropes had been used. She and Derek had taken very good care of their ropes, hand-washing them in the bathtub, keeping them out of sunlight, but she couldn’t stop the march of time. They couldn’t climb with these ropes; it was as simple as that. A rope as old as these could be used for top-roping but not leading, but she didn’t want to use them, period.
“Walter has some synthetic rope in the store,” he said. “Maybe not exactly what we want, but newer than this. I’ll get it now. How long?”
“Seventy meters.”
He nodded. He didn’t ask what thickness, so she guessed that Walter had only the one roll stocked. They would use whatever was there.
He disappeared out the front, and she left the food to inspect the gear. She hadn’t touched it since putting it in the attic three years ago, when she moved here. He hadn’t brought down the helmets, but she understood why: they were brightly colored, easily visible. A lot of climbers didn’t wear helmets anyway, but she and Derek always had.
The old fascination returned as she sorted out the gear, and for a minute she felt the tug of excitement, the hue of sun and height, her skill and strength pitted against the rock. She had fallen, of course. So had Derek. So had every climber she knew. But that was what the ropes were for, and that was why she wouldn’t climb with old ones.
She forced herself to turn away from the gear and go back to food prep. Water would be a big problem, because it was so heavy. A gallon of water weighed eight pounds, not counting the weight of the container. She had some bottled water, but no convenient way to carry it. They needed a waterskin that could be sitting on the back, but she couldn’t think of any way to improvise one.
Maybe Roy Edward would know if there was running water on the mountains. There was, surely, aside from the bigger stream that formed part of Trail Stop’s boundary before joining with the river.
Cal returned with coils of rope over his shoulders. He looked over her preparations and nodded. “I helped myself to some things while I was getting the rope. I have matches in a waterproof box, some things like that. How about blankets?”
“The ones I have are thick,” she said. “I was going to take some back to the others, but they’re too thick to carry while we’re climbing.”
He nodded. “I have a couple of thin blankets at my place, and a sleep pad that rolls up tight. Okay, that’s it. We could use more stuff, but we can’t carry it. Let’s go. By the time we get ready to leave, we won’t have much daylight left.”
“What are we going to do? We can’t climb in the dark.”
“We’re going to get into position, which could take a couple of hours. Whatever we can do tonight, that’s time we’ll save tomorrow.”
He was right about that, and he had a brisk discipline to every movement, even his tone of voice, that told her he knew exactly what he was doing. He’d done this before, probably in circumstances just as dire.
When they made it back to the Richardsons’, they found that Creed had organized the others with the same sort of crispness Cal displayed. While Cal took some of them out to show them the safest ways to move around, the angles they should use, and where they should be wary, Creed worked on the water problem.
According to Roy Edward there were several streams in the mountains, which helped, but they still had to solve the bottle problem. Creed looked thoughtful. The next thing Cate knew, Maureen was cutting the legs out of some of Perry’s thermal-knit underwear. She tied off the end of one, and loaded bottles in the cutoff leg as if putting torpedoes in a firing tube. When each leg was full, she tied off the other end, then fashioned slings that could be worn across the shoulder and chest, with the weight of the water on their backs, Cate tried it out. There was more weight than she was comfortable with, but that would lessen as they drank.
Cal returned with two blankets and what she supposed was a sleeping pad, which looked much like a yoga mat. One of the blankets was rolled up and strapped to her, while he carried the mat and the other blanket. He put on his sling of Water, grinning at the solution, then looked at Creed.
“What’s the closest place we can go for help, after we get through the cut?”
“My place,” Creed said. “From my back porch, I can see the cut. Other than that, there’s a dude ranch about six or seven miles off the highway, and Gordon Moons place is a little farther than that in the opposite direction. If you can find my place, you can use the phone there, but you’d have to use some dead-on course plotting, Marine.”
Cal grinned. “If you happen to know the coordinates, I have a handheld GPS unit.” He tapped the cargo pocket on his right thigh.
A slow answering grin spread across Greed’s face. “Imagine that. It happens I have one, too. Wouldn’t look good for the guide to get lost, now would it?’
“You remember the coordinates?”
“Does a kitty cat have an ass? Know em like my birthday.’
Chapter 26
“What the hell are they doing over there?” Toxtel muttered to Teague when the latter walked by on his way to relieve Billy. Goss was taking a break back at the tent, since he was due to relieve Toxtel at midnight. Now was when they settled into routine, and now was when staying alert would become harder and harder.
Teague looked like hell and felt worse, but he was walking, and he intended to take his shift. The lump on his forehead was so big he couldn’t get a cap on, but the slightest pressure made him feel as if his head were exploding anyway, so he was just as glad to do without one. The pain had kept up a steady pounding all day, but he’d checked his pupils in his rearview mirror and they were both the same size, so he figured he was okay; he’d just have to tough it out through the pain. He popped a couple of ibuprofen every four hours and that took the edge off, which would have to do.