This line keeper looks almost as uneasy as the last one. He utters some of those unintelligible noises and then makes a motion suggesting I follow him down the road. Apparently he learned a lesson from his predecessor about leaving us alone while going for backup.
I smile and shake my head politely, noticing then that Li Wei has crept out of the shadows carrying a large limb. I begin signing with renewed vigor, hoping to keep the line keeper’s interest. I thank you for your gracious offer to escort me to the township, but I think both of us know that’s not the place for me to be right now. And while we’re on the topic of thanks, please express my gratitude to your colleague for his generous gift of food earlier—
Li Wei is almost in position to swing the limb at the back of the line keeper’s head—until he steps on a smaller twig that’s fallen on the road. I hear it. So does the line keeper. He spins around, but Li Wei has already swung the limb. It strikes the side of the line keeper’s head—a blow great enough to render him unconscious. I kneel down, checking the man’s breathing. It is even and steady.
Li Wei and I hurry over to the zip line’s terminus, and it’s all I can do not to demand we give up on this crazy plan right now. How can Li Wei hope to hold out against these people? How can he hide from them when they have the advantage of hearing? Even just now, his plan was nearly foiled when he made a noise and didn’t even realize it. But despite my fears, I stay silent. He has made his choice and is ready to face the danger of staying here so that I can warn our people. My doubts will only hinder him, and I vow to remain calm and strong.
We do a quick rearranging of our packs, giving him the bulk of the food for weight purposes. I would give it all to him, but he insists I bring some as proof to our people about where we’ve been. I curl up in the basket that normally holds metals and food, and he loosely binds me to the line with an extra length of rope, just as a precaution. I hold on to the line as well, of course, my grip tight through the gloves. I look up toward the mountain, which is falling deeper and deeper into shadows, giving it an ominous feel. It seems like an eternity away, endlessly high and impossible to reach.
It won’t take that long, Li Wei tells me. You’ve seen them send stuff down before. You’ll be up a lot faster than it took us to get down—though I’m sure this line has never held such valuable cargo before.
He leans in and kisses me again, a kiss that manages to be both tender yet still full of that earlier intensity and passion. It completely undoes me, and I wish I could wrap my arms around him and never let him go. I think about his earlier words, about how he should have kissed me sooner. The time we’ve wasted leaves an ache in my heart, especially knowing I may never see him again.
Goodbye, Fei, he says when he straightens back up again. Save our people . . . and don’t forget about me.
Tears threaten me. I release the line long enough to sign, There will never be another name on my heart.
His eyes shining, he gives me one last kiss and then begins turning the crank. With a jerk, I lurch forward up the line, rocking back and forth with each turn of the crank. The basket and ropes holding me suddenly seem terribly fragile, and whatever skill and bravery I thought I’d earned from our descent blow away in the wind wailing around me. Coming down the mountain, I at least held my fate in my own hands. I wasn’t facing these dizzying, lethal heights in a basket at the mercy of someone else’s resolve.
No, I realize. Not just someone. Li Wei. As I twist around to look back, my eyes lock with his. His gaze is dark and steady, never leaving my face as he turns the zip line’s crank with every bit of strength he has. Moving me up the line at such a fast speed is no small feat, especially after all the work we did climbing down. But there is a relentless air about Li Wei as he turns, a determination that tells me I have nothing to fear so long as my fate is in his hands. He will guide me up to the top of the mountain, no matter the cost to him. His resolve wraps around me, securing me more than any rope could.
I hold on to his gaze as long as I can, taking strength from it, even as the ache in my chest grows with the distance between us. Evening’s shadows wrap around him, making him a small, dark figure, his form blurry as tears sting my eyes. Soon he is out of sight altogether, and I feel terribly alone. But as I rise higher and higher, I know he is still with me and helping me. At first, the height isn’t that troublesome. I tell myself it’s not unlike climbing a tree. When I surpass even the tree heights, I remember that I survived the climb down from a much higher distance. Surely this should be no different.
Except that during the climb down, I at least felt some measure of control. I chose where I placed each hand and foot. Also, I had the partial security of knowing the rope I was using could hold my weight. Here, as I tremulously move up the line, I am acutely aware that I am testing the limits of what this zip line was built for. At any moment, the line could decide I am too much and snap, sending me to the depths below. I can’t see every detail of the ground anymore, not with night setting in, but I am well aware of how far the drop is. That black gulf looms ominously below me.
No, I tell myself sternly. You have nothing to fear with Li Wei at your back. As long as Li Wei is controlling the line, you will make it safely home. You just have to hang on.
Suddenly, without warning, I come to a teeth-rattling halt. The line stops moving, and I sway where I’m at in the wind. I twist my head to look back and gasp at what I see: small pinpricks of flickering light at the line keeper’s station. Torches. I can’t make out all the details from the distance, but there’s no mistaking the horde of men swarming around one single thing—or rather, person.
Li Wei is no longer in control of the line.
The soldiers have found and intercepted him. I watch in horror as that circle of torchlight moves, ushering away their prisoner. My heart cries out for Li Wei, and my lips want to cry out as well, but I keep my mouth firmly shut, lest I reveal myself.
Whatever is happening back there, they don’t realize I’m out on the line. It’s too dark for them to see me at this distance, and Li Wei’s purpose at the line’s terminus apparently hasn’t hit them yet. The torches flutter around a little bit, and I imagine they are probably carrying away the unconscious line worker as well. Soon the whole cluster begins getting smaller, moving away from me as the guards head down the road back toward the township—with Li Wei as their prisoner.
Panic fills me—panic and guilt. If we’d left together, we could have escaped. What will they do with him now? Leave him in the camp with Nuan? Send him somewhere worse? Torture him? Kill him? I’m desperate to know his fate . . . but it occurs to me that I have another fate of much more pressing concern to worry about.
My own.
I’m hanging here, in the darkness, suspended between heaven and earth with nothing propelling me forward anymore. Li Wei managed to send me a fair distance before his capture, moving me at a much faster rate than our painstaking climb down. But there is still a long way to go—and an even longer way behind me.
Acting against Li Wei’s earlier warnings, I dare a glance down to better assess my situation.
My eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness that I can make out faint details by moonlight. Mist has rolled in for the night in the land beneath me, but as it swirls and shifts, I can catch occasional glimpses of the terrain below. It is rocky and jagged, dotted with occasional evergreens that shoot up from the earth like spikes, ready to impale. They look tiny from this distance, like an illustration from a book, which only serves to remind me how precarious my situation is. I swallow and look away.