30 days of Krista and Becca Ritchie: day seven ~ a scene that made you cry
Don’t fucking die on me. Don’t fucking die on me.
I grit back the pain and ascend until i’m right next to him. “Hey, hey!” I growl, loosening the straps of his helmet that dig into his windpipe.
Sully is ashen, and it’s not the helmet that cuts off his airway. He coughs. Blood spurts from his pale blue lips, staining them red.
“No,” I almost shout. “Nono.” I lift him quickly as he gags again, blood dripping down his chin.
He motions to his chest with a drooping hand. The last boulder crushed him, he’s telling me. Internal bleeding.
“Hey, hey,” I say in a softer tone. “I’m going to get you off his fucking rock, okay?”
He mumbles something, but I can’t understand, the fucking anguish in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I concentrate on saving him. Because he’s going to fucking make it.
We’re both going to make it.
I finish rigging a tandem rappel for both of us, and his fingers, with whatever energy he has left, graze my shirt like they want to clench the fabric.
“…Ryke,” he chokes, tears slipping out of his eyes. “No.”
My knuckles whiten on the rope. “What do you fucking mean?” I know what he means.
“…Leave….me,” he cries. He’s crying, his chin trembling.
My nose flares, my eyes clouding. I shake my fucking head. “I can’t.” I can’t leave him here, even if it’ll save my life. Without his dead weight, I can multi-pitch solo rappel, set anchors much more easily, and ensure that I have a safe decline.