CHAPTER TWELVE
Lisa Anderson chalked her hands one last time and looked up at the route she had just completed.
The climbing wall stretched thirty feet above her, covered in colorful holds that ranged from easy paths to razor-thin crimps.
She had made it to the top without falling, but her forearms burned from the effort and her fingertips felt raw despite the tape.
The Silver Lake Climbing Center occupied a converted warehouse that had been transformed into a climber's paradise about five years ago, and Lisa came by at least once every week. Some people hit weights at the gym and others ran on trails. But Lisa had always loved the climbing walls.
The main wall of the gym dominated the open space, but smaller bouldering sections lined the perimeter with thick crash pads underneath.
The air smelled like chalk dust and rubber, and music played from speakers mounted near the ceiling.
A dozen other climbers were scattered throughout the facility, some working routes on the walls while others rested and discussed beta for particularly difficult problems.
Lisa was thirty-one years old with lean muscle built from years of climbing.
Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her tank top revealed arms that were all sinew and definition.
Chalk dust covered her hands and streaked across her shorts.
She had spent the last two hours working on a route that mimicked the kind of overhanging terrain she would face during her upcoming trip to Yosemite.
Her knuckles burned and the blisters on her hands were singing, but she loved it all.
"Nice send," called out Larry Givens. He was one of the regulars who had been climbing at the gym as long as Lisa had. He was coiling his rope near the bouldering area, getting ready to leave for the night.
"Thanks," Lisa said. She walked over to where she had left her water bottle and gym bag near the wall. "I thought I was going to blow it on that roof section, but I managed to stick the dyno."
"You made it look easy," Givens said. He shouldered his bag and headed toward the exit. "Same time Thursday?"
"I’ll be here," Lisa said.
Larry waved and pushed through the glass doors that led to the parking lot.
Lisa took a long drink from her water bottle and started gathering her things.
Her fingers ached as she untied her climbing shoes and slipped on her regular sneakers.
She had pushed herself hard tonight, maybe harder than she should have with the Yosemite trip only two weeks away.
But the training was necessary if she wanted to tackle El Capitan's Nose route, which had been her goal for the past year.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the exit, waving to the staff member behind the front desk.
The evening air was cool against her sweaty skin as she stepped into the parking lot.
The sun had set while she was inside, and streetlights cast orange pools across the asphalt.
Only a handful of cars remained, scattered across the lot in no particular pattern.
Lisa walked toward her Honda CR-V, fishing her keys from her bag. She was thinking about dinner and a hot shower back at her apartment when a voice called out behind her.
"Excuse me. I’m so sorry to bother you."
Lisa turned and saw a man approaching from the direction of a white van parked three spaces away. He looked to be in his mid-thirties with sandy hair and a friendly expression. He wore jeans and a light jacket, and his hands were visible and empty.
"What’s up?" Lisa said. She kept her keys in her hand, ready to use them as a weapon if needed. Growing up in Los Angeles had taught her to be cautious with strangers, especially in parking lots after dark.
"I caught a glimpse of you as you were leaving the gym," the man said. He stopped about six feet away, maintaining a respectful distance. "I was really impressed. That route you were working looked incredibly difficult and you just sang through it."
Lisa relaxed slightly. The gym had large windows facing the parking lot, and it was not unusual for people to watch the climbers inside. Still, she remained alert.
"Thank you," she said. "It took me a few tries to figure out the sequence."
"I’ve been thinking about taking up climbing," the man said. "Right now, I still only use the novice route…barely harder than the kiddie walls. Could I ask you a few questions about equipment? I know this is random, but I figured I should ask someone who clearly knows what they are doing."
Lisa hesitated. The request seemed genuine, and the man maintained his distance without moving closer.
But there was something about the situation that made her uncomfortable.
She could not pinpoint exactly what it was, just a vague sense that this felt more like a pickup attempt than a genuine interest in climbing.
"I guess I can answer a few questions," Lisa said. She positioned herself so that she had a clear path to her car if she needed to leave quickly.
"Great, I really appreciate it," the man said. "So, what kind of equipment would you recommend for someone just starting out? I’ve been looking at harnesses and ropes, but there are so many options."
Lisa answered automatically, explaining the basics of climbing gear while keeping half her attention on the man's body language.
He nodded along, asking follow-up questions that suggested he had done at least some research.
Maybe he really was interested in climbing and not just hitting on her.
It did look like he was paying close attention—and to what she was saying not just how she looked.
"What about high-altitude climbing?" the man asked. "Do you do any of that, or mostly just indoor stuff?"
"I do outdoor climbing as well," Lisa said. She took another sip from her water bottle, suddenly aware of how thirsty she was. The workout had dehydrated her more than usual. "I’m planning a trip to Yosemite next month to climb El Capitan."
"That sounds incredible," the man said. "How do you train for something like that? The altitude alone must be challenging."
Lisa explained her training regimen, taking another long drink from her water bottle as she spoke. The man listened attentively, but Lisa noticed her words were starting to feel strange in her mouth. Her tongue felt thick, and her thoughts seemed to move through molasses.
"Are you okay?" the man asked.
Lisa blinked and tried to focus on his face, but the edges of her vision had started to blur. The parking lot seemed to tilt slightly beneath her feet, and she reached out to steady herself against her car.
"I feel dizzy," she said. Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. She smiled lazily and said, “Maybe I just pushed it too hard tonight.”
"Oh, no, I don't think that's it at all," the man said, stepping forward very quickly.
"I think it's because I closed your water bottle about an hour ago while you were climbing.
" His tone remained conversational, almost friendly.
"I'm actually impressed it took this long to wear you down.
You must have an incredibly efficient metabolism. "
Lisa's legs gave out before she could process what he had said. She felt herself falling and tried to catch herself, but her arms would not respond properly. Jesus, what did he drug me with? She wondered, her thoughts like syrup. This shit came on fast…
The man stepped forward quickly and caught her before she hit the ground, supporting her weight with surprising ease.
"Don’t worry," he said quietly. "It will be over soon."
Lisa tried to speak, tried to scream, but the darkness was already closing in around her. The last thing she saw was the man's face looking down at her with what might have been sympathy or satisfaction. She couldn’t tell which.
Then there was nothing. Just darkness.
***
The cold shocked Lisa back to consciousness.
Wind tore at her face and hair, and her stomach lurched with the sensation of movement.
For a terrifying moment, she had no idea where she was or what was happening.
Her vision swam as she tried to focus, and nausea rolled through her gut.
An almost gentle-sounding wind passed by her face, calming and somehow terrifying all at once.
Then she looked down and her entire body went rigid with fear.
The ground was falling away beneath her.
Buildings and streets grew smaller by the second, their details dissolving into patterns of light and shadow.
She was suspended in the air by some kind of harness around her torso, and she was rising fast. The wind roared in her ears as she gained altitude, and the cold bit through her thin tank top and shorts.
Lisa twisted in the harness, trying to understand what was holding her.
She looked up and saw...God, what the hell was that?
Not just one thing, but several…balloons?
Were those really balloons? The absurdity of it seemed to jolt her brain into action and she knew right away what she was looking at.
Weather balloons. Dozens of them, maybe more, all connected to her harness by thin ropes.
They pulled her upward with relentless force, lifting her higher and higher into the night sky.
"No," she gasped. The word came out as barely a whisper, stolen by the wind.
She looked down again and saw the man standing in a nondescript parking lot far below.
He was still close enough that she could barely make out his face, and what she saw there made her blood run cold.
Disappointment. He looked disappointed, like she had somehow failed to meet his expectations.
Like whatever messed up prank or exhibition he was playing on her wasn’t meeting his fucked up expectations.