Page 8 of Falling

She nods again. Carefully, I help her stand, but the second she puts weight on her left foot, she cries out.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I mumble. I think I’m trying to assure myself as much as her. “Sit back down.”

I ease her back to the ground. Climbing back up the trail, I retrieve my backpack. I have to figure out how I’m going to get us down to the bottom. There’s no way I can haul us both back up the way we came. Sitting next to her, I dig through my pack.

“Here, take these,” I say, shaking some anti-inflammatories into my hand. She takes them without arguing. “I’m going to secure some ice around it.” I pull out two small ice packs, break them to start them getting cold and ease them into the sides of her boot. Then I pull out compression wrap and secure the entire ankle in it.

“How are you doing?” I pull off her sunglasses and watch her pupils dilate. That’s a good sign.

“I’ve been better,” she says, snatching her sunglasses back. That’s an even better sign. “You should keep going and send someone back for me.”

“Nope.” I don’t know how I’ll get her down, but I’m not leaving her here. “I’m not leaving you here.”

“Pete—”

“I said no.” I’m not wasting time listening to her argue with me. We’re going down together. I look at what we have to work with. It’s not much. “Can you wear your pack?” She nods.

I move everything important I can into her pack. She slides it on her shoulders, and I leave mine next to the trail. If we’re lucky, someone will find it and bring it down.

“Okay, let’s go.”

She whimpers when I pull her off the ground. I brace myself on the rocks and have her hop onto my back. She whimpers again but quickly stifles it. I know how much pain she’s in. I had a behemoth midfielder land on my ankle playing lacrosse in school, and they had to haul my butt off the field.

“You need to be as still as possible so I don’t lose my balance. This is going to take a while. If you need a rest, you have to let me know. We’ll stop.” I take a step down, and she tenses. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me to get you down.” I slowly begin fighting my way down the mountain. My foot lowers to the next step. Her grip tightens around my shoulders. I can feel her puff out a breath every time my boot connects to the next rock.

I’ve made it halfway when I slip on some loose stones. We slide for a second before I can regain my balance.

“We’re fine, G. I’ve got you,” I reassure both of us.

“I know,” she whispers against my ear. “I trust you.”

I continue down until the trail evens out again. My knees buckle as I try to ease her to the ground. She scrambles off my back before I can recover. She swings her pack around to pull out the canteen. Gratefully, I take it.

“You can still leave me here and get help,” she argues. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not arguing with you. We stay together. I don’t want to leave you to the bears. If we’re together, they’re sure to eat me first. They always go for the ugliest first. You can get away.”

I’m joking. I don’t want to be eaten by a bear any more than the next person. But I’m rewarded with a slight smile from Geneva, which is what I was aiming for.

“That’s stupid. Even I know you’re too beautiful to be eaten first.” Her face reddens slightly, and she looks at the ground. “I think you are anyway.”

“We should probably keep going.” I don’t know what to think about her statement. She’s never said anything like it before. Does she think I’m beautiful? Shock must be setting in.

I help her back up and secure her pack on her back again. Bending, I wait until she’s firmly settled on my back before starting. It’s a matter of putting one foot in front of the other now.

A hike that should have taken us around seven hours takes us closer to eleven. I have to set her down several times to rest. Her ankle looks worse every time we stop. We’re saved when two rangers with flashlights find us a mile from the end of the trail.

“Hey, there. You must be our missing hikers. We found your vehicle at the other end and decided we’d better find you,” one of them says. I didn’t catch their names, I’m too focused on how ecstatic I am to finally get some help.

“Good thing we did,” the other one says. They ease Geneva off my back, each man taking a side. Slowly, they help her back to the trailhead. They load her into one of their vehicles and head toward the nearest emergency room. The other ranger takes me back to our vehicle.

“I don’t know how you hauled her down the Mist Trail like that,” the ranger says. “Usually people just leave the injured party where they are and hike out to find help. During the busy season, they just wait for someone to come along. She must really be something to hike that far with her on your back.”

“She’s my best friend’s sister. I couldn’t just leave her. He would kill me.”

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