Chapter 9 Willa
WILLA
Willa heard Margo before she saw her.
The tarpaulin at the cave entrance pulled sideways, and Margo came through it fast, her face wet and tight, the kind of breathless urgency about her that had nothing to do with running and everything to do with what she needed to say in the next three seconds.
“It’s Ace,” Margo said. “He’s gone over the ledge.”
The words hit Willa’s chest like a fist.
Rad was already on his feet. He’d been half-awake against the wall, she could tell from the speed he moved, coming upright without the usual stiffness of deep sleep. His hands were already reaching for the rope at the base of the supply pile before Margo had finished speaking.
“How far did he go over?” Rad asked.
“He was still gripping the edge when I left him,” Margo told him, pulling her hood back, rain still streaming down her face. “He told me to come get you. He said he could hold on.”
Willa was already pulling on her raincoat. “Let’s go.”
“Mom.” Grace was beside her, upright and alert.
“You stay at the entrance,” Willa told her firmly, sweeping her gaze around the cave at the teenagers, most of them already awake from the sudden shift in the room’s energy. “All of you stay inside. Grace, you’re in charge. Keep the fire going, and nobody comes outside.”
“Mom—” Grace began to object.
“Grace.” Willa held her daughter’s eyes for exactly one second. “I need you right here. That’s your job for now.”
Grace pressed her lips together and nodded once.
Without another look at her daughter, Willa pushed through the makeshift door at the cave entrance.
The cold and the wet closed around her immediately as she stepped outside.
The rain was coming in heavy bursts now, rather than the relentless sheets it had been pelting down in when the storm started.
The gusts were still strong, but it wasn’t the wind and rain causing the problem at the moment.
It was the slick, unpredictable ground that was the real obstacle.
Willa felt it through her boots within her first two steps.
The saturated soil shifted underfoot, the rock apron ahead gleamed with a thin film of water that caught what little gray light peeked through the angry clouds.
Willa kept her weight low and moved with care.
Rad was ahead of her with the rope over one shoulder and the flashlight in his hand, the beam aimed at the ground rather than the distance. Margo fell in beside Willa, one hand briefly touching her arm as they moved.
“Ace said he could hold on,” Margo repeated, and Willa could hear the strain underneath the words as Margo tried to convince herself she’d made the right decision leaving Ace.
“Then he’ll hold on,” Willa replied, and gave her friend’s hand a gentle pat. “He’s Ace. You know how resilient he is.”
“Yes, he’s Ace,” Margo muttered, but a glance at her wide eyes and set jaw told Willa Margo was not convinced and was racked with guilt.
“He’s going to be fine!” Willa assured her again, and Margo pushed through the rain, her face focused ahead on Rad.
They reached the rock apron, and Rad moved to the edge first, dropping straight to one knee, the flashlight pointing down.
Willa and Margo were right behind him.
Rad leaned over the edge with the flashlight and swept the beam along the rock face below.
Nothing.
Willa’s stomach dropped.
“Where is he?” Rad called out, his voice sharp and loud over the wind. He turned to Margo, his eyes urgent. “Margo, where exactly was he? Which section of the edge?”
“Right there,” Margo pointed, her voice cracking.
“He was right there. With both of his hands on the lip. I swear he was holding on when I left him.” Her eyes widened with terror, and her voice rose.
“He was right there!” Her head shot around as she looked further down the shelf.
“He was right there.” She pointed. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as she turned to look at Rad. “Right there.”
Rad swung the flashlight beam further along the face and then down, further down than the four-foot drop they had expected, scanning the broken rock surface below.
“Ace!” Rad shouted. “Ace, can you hear me?”
The wind pushed back at them.
Margo pressed both hands over her mouth and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Ace! Ace, where are you?” The fear echoed through the call. “You promised. You promised me you’d hang on. ACE.”
The world around them fell quickly and Willa felt like she was rooted to the spot. Her breath had caught in her throat, blocked by the abject terror rising from her soul and tearing through her body.
Then a voice came up from below, strained and rough but present.
“Down here,” Ace called back.
All three of them rushed to the edge, dropping to their knees on the wet rock, and Rad swung the flashlight beam downward and to the left.
Willa let out a long breath as her heart started to pound, and relief pounded through her system.
The flashlight bounced off the rock face until it hit Ace, who was below them, further down than the original drop.
He was face-first with his cheek pressed against the rock face.
Both of his arms were wrapped around a cluster of thick branches jutting from a narrow ledge in the rock.
The yellow rain slicker had ridden up across his back during the slide and was twisted around his torso.
Aces’ hands were gripping the branches with everything he had, and even from above, Willa could see the tension in his arms and shoulders.
“Ace.” Willa’s voice came out steadier than she felt. “Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live,” Ace called back up. “The slicker took most of it. My ribs are a bit sore, and my hands are pretty torn up, but I’m okay. I can’t get any purchase on the rock face to climb back up, though. It’s too slick.”
“Don’t try to move,” Rad told him firmly. “Don’t move at all. We’ve got the rope.”
“That would be great,” Ace replied, and even from up here Willa could hear the effort it was costing him to keep his voice even.
Rad was already moving, scanning the tree line for a solid anchor point. He found a thick pine set back from the edge, tested it with both hands, and started securing the rope with quick, practiced knots. Willa held the flashlight steady on his hands while he worked.
“Margo,” Willa said quietly, noticing that Margo was still on her knees staring down at Ace like if she looked away, he’d disappear. Margo turned and looked at Willa, her eyes wide and wet. “He’s okay.” She kept her voice low and cooing. “Ace is talking to us. He’s okay.”
Margo pressed her lips together and nodded, but didn’t rise. She turned back to look down at Ace. Willa left Margo and turned her attention back to Rad.
“The rope is all set,” Rad said, moving back to the edge. “Ace, I’m dropping the rope down to you. Tell me when you’ve got it.”
“Great,” Ace called back. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Rad fed the rope down carefully, keeping the tension so the wind couldn’t take it. The end disappeared over the edge, and they heard Ace’s sharp intake of breath as he shifted to reach for it. Then there was a grunt of pain as the movement pulled at whatever his ribs were doing.
“I’ve got it,” Ace confirmed.
“Get it around your waist and knot it,” Rad instructed. “Take your time and don’t rush it.”
There was a pause. The sound of wind and rain and the distant crash of water against the island’s shore.
“Don’t worry,” Ace called up. “I’ve no intention of falling any further.
” There was another pause. They could hear the rustle of branches.
Willa and Margo both sucked in air as they heard some rocks Ace must’ve dislodged tumble down the rock face.
Both of them breathed a sigh of relief when Ace yelled. “I’m secure and ready to be pulled up.”
“Margo, get on the rope behind me,” Rad said, moving into position. “Willa, I need you on the anchor side keeping the line taut against the tree. If we need to lower any slack, you have to control it.”
Willa moved to the tree and wrapped the rope around her forearm the way she’d been taught, planting her feet wide on the wet rock. “I’m in position.”
Margo rose and moved to where Rad wanted her to be. “I’m in position,” she echoed.
Rad scanned them both, then nodded. “Ace, we’re going to start pulling you up. Get ready.”
“Okay,” Ace called back.
“On three,” Rad called down to Ace. “Then you’ll need to push off the rock face with your feet, and we’ll pull from up here. Don’t try to climb, just walk your feet up the face as we pull. Ready?”
“Ready,” Ace called back.
“One,” Rad said. “Two. Three.”
Rad and Margo pulled. Willa held the tension at the anchor, feeding the rope carefully as the slack came out of it.
Willa could hear Ace below them, the scrape of his boots against the rock face, another sharp grunt of pain that he didn’t comment on, and the slow, grinding effort of the whole thing working together.
She sucked in a breath when the rope tugged a little too much, or Ace suddenly stopped, and they could hear rocks being dislodged.
“Keep going,” Rad urged through gritted teeth, taking most of the strain and Ace’s weight. “Keep going, you’re almost up. Don’t lose momentum.”
It took almost five long, exhausting minutes before Ace’s hands appeared at the rock edge.
Rad dropped the rope to grab Ace’s wrists, Margo grabbed his jacket, and Willa was there the moment she’d secured the rope around the tree.
All three of them pulled until Ace came up over the edge to land hard on the rock apron before rolling onto his back with a sharp sound that he immediately tried to suppress.
Nobody was fooled.
“Your ribs,” Willa said, dropping to her knees beside him. Her eyes took in the torn yellow slicker and smears of blood.
“I’m all right,” Ace said, but his jaw was tight, and his color wasn’t great.
When he sat up, Rad ran his flashlight over Ace. Willa’s eyes widened at the blood smeared on his face.