Second Chance Summer(86)

Aidan’s gut tightened. “Don’t move!” he yelled down, not at all sure she could hear them. “We’re coming! Keep your head covered!”

There was some discussion with Incident Command on whether the wind was too strong for a rappel and rescue. If so, they would have to pull back and wait out the storm.

Aidan was vibrating with impatience. Mitch put a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze. “I’m going down there either way,” Aidan told him.

“Of course we are,” Mitch said.

Incident Command gave the go-ahead for the rescue—with the stipulation that they would be called back at a moment’s notice if the wind worsened, or at the first sign of lightning. Lightning would stop everything cold, as the guys up on the top, out in the open with the gear, would be in the direct line of danger.

Not that it would stop Aidan, if it came to getting Lily off the face.

From the top of the cliff to the outcropping was a good forty feet. And down to the river was a hundred feet more. The Zodiac couldn’t get in close due to the huge boulders at the river’s shore, but they’d stick around in the event anyone hit the water.

With the crew setting up the rigging, Aidan and Mitch pulled on their full-body harnesses in preparation to go over. They checked each other’s gear and checked the rigging setup to make sure the anchor points—in this case three tall, sturdy cedars—were strong enough for the three ropes they needed.

Aidan was in a huge hurry to get down there, but he still took the extra minute to double-and triple-check that all of the knots were properly tied and everything was correctly attached and tightened. Then he peered over the edge again, unable to take his sights off the all-too-still figure curled forty feet below, not moving. The distance was just enough to not be able to see clearly enough to identify or even catalog injuries, and that was the worst part. His heart kicked hard, and though he was trained to stay calm and alert and steady, his training threatened to go out the window.

Given the go-ahead, Aidan and Mitch went over the edge together, Mitch on the left of the climber and Aidan on the right. They made excellent time descending, aided by the blistering wind trying to tear them from the mountain.

They each landed lithely on their feet in the very small space on either side of their stuck climber, who was still curled up on her side. Aidan immediately crouched low, put a hand on her shoulder and she rolled to her back and opened her eyes.

Only it wasn’t a she at all. He was a kid, maybe twenty years old, lean and lanky.

Mitch, crouched on the other side of the kid, met Aidan’s gaze.

Not Lily. Not even close.

“Easy,” Aidan said when the kid jerked in shock in the very tight space. “We’ve got you, but no sudden movements. What’s your name?”

“Aaron Roberts.”

Mitch grabbed his radio. “Victim is Aaron Roberts, male, early twenties—”

“Nineteen,” Aaron said.

“Nineteen,” Mitch corrected. “No visible injuries.”

“Copy that,” came the reply from the incident commander.

“What happened?” Mitch asked Aaron.

The story that tumbled out had Aidan grinding his teeth. Aaron and his friend Gil had taken two girls up the mountain to show off and hopefully get laid. The girls had dared them to climb down the face. To sweeten the pot they’d promised something “really special” if the boys could climb down the rock face on the left side, traverse the rock face itself, and reappear on the right side.

Mitch shook his head and gave Aidan a look that said, Can you believe these dumbf*cks?

Another time Aidan might have laughed, but the weather was going south as they stood there and worse, he still had no idea where Lily was, or if she needed help.

She doesn’t, he told himself. She was smart, she had more mountain experience than most, and surely she’d seen the storm moving in.

“Where are your friends?” Aidan asked Aaron.

“I think they went for help.”

A third harness had been lowered for Aaron. Aidan was still fuming, so Mitch explained to the Horn Dog what the plan was. All Aaron needed to do was slip into the harness. That was it, the big extent of his efforts needed.

But Aaron paled at the thought of moving around on the narrow ledge and shook his head. Granted, their space was extremely limited, and, with the three of them there, they had precious little room to move around. But there were only two ways off the ledge: either a hundred-foot drop to the wild river below, or up.

“Can’t you call a helicopter?” Aaron asked hopefully, squinting into the sky, which was now dark and turbulent, whipped into a frenzy by the winds. “Cuz that would be great.”

“A helicopter,” Mitch repeated, and looked at Aidan in disbelief. “And would you like f*cking lunch to go with that?” he asked Aaron.

“Dude,” Aaron said, looking hopeful. “Do they serve meals?”

A bolt of lightning had Mitch and Aidan looking at each other. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand— Thunder boomed so viciously that the ledge beneath their feet shuddered.

“Two minutes,” came the warning on the radio.

Shit.

“Listen to me,” Mitch said hurriedly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to put on the harness, nice and slow, and then we’ll check it. And then you’re going to get your ass off this rock before we all blow off, and you can go home and get your own damn meal, and we can go rescue someone else. And you’re going to do all of this fast. You hear me?”