Supernatural Fresh Meat

FORTY-EIGHT




Straining under the massive downward pull, Sam extracted his fingers and tried to find a lower spot to move to. He felt along the rock, finding a crack to wedge them in about a foot down. Then he let his body ease downward, his right foot feeling for a toehold. He scraped his boot along the rough granite, finding a tiny lip of rock. He tested his weight on it, and it held. Then he moved his left foot down, trying not to let the agonizing weight pulling at his back yank him too far. He felt a small protuberance of rock and rested his left foot on it. It held too. He carefully dislodged the axe, aimed for a crevice to the right of his chest, and drove the toothed side in. He tugged on it, and it remained embedded.

More dirt and tiny rocks spilled down over him. The female vampire’s boot couldn’t reach him now. She cursed.

“Pull me up!” she yelled. “He’s too low.”

Little victories, Sam thought. He clung to the rock face, feeling his strength drain away by the minute, his arms and legs starting to shake with muscle fatigue.

The ridiculous position they hung in now meant that neither Sam nor Bobby could fight, just make tiny defensive moves. And Sam knew he couldn’t hold on forever. The vampires knew that, too. They hovered at the top of the ridge, staring down and grinning. Maybe they wouldn’t have to climb down and finish off Sam at all.

Sam decided to climb up, taking a route to his left that wouldn’t allow the vampires to lower themselves down and kick him off. If they did attempt to reach him, they’d be in the same clinging-to-the-rock situation Sam was, and he guessed they wouldn’t risk it. This way they wouldn’t be able to attack him until he reached the top.

He moved his left hand out of its crevice and felt around for another handhold. When he found one, he followed suit with his feet. Then he heaved himself upward, pulling Bobby’s dead weight. His finger bones felt like they might snap, but he held on. He swung the ice axe out and in, biting into a fresh nook in the rock. He continued to drag himself upward, finding handholds and toeholds where he could, swinging the ice axe, wedging it in tightly enough to support both him and Bobby.

Bobby had grown quiet. Sam put all his concentration into pulling them up the cliff face, one little step at a time, one handhold after another handhold. The wind howled around him, though at least he was a little sheltered on this side of the rock. He worked his way steadily upward, thinking each time he’d see the top of the ridge, only to be confronted with more rock face.

Then, with the next heave upward, he reached it. He could see clear over the ridge to the clouds filling the valley on the other side.

A blinding kick to his face snapped his head back. Bright stars flashed as blood spilled from his nose and filled his mouth. Sam reached up with his left hand, trying to grab the vampire’s leg and fling her off the cliff. But they both kept their distance, just out of sight at the top of the ridge. Sam’s searching hand felt around for a boot.

Blue Spikes’ heel drove into the back of his head. Black Overcoat snaked his hand down and grabbed the axe head, wriggling it free. She kicked Sam again in the back of the head, slamming his face into the sharp granite. Blood from a cut in his forehead trickled down into his eyes, blurring his vision. She kicked him again and again. He reached up with his left hand, grabbing her boot, but she wrenched it away, then cracked the back of his head with her heel, driving his face into the jagged rock once more.

Sam felt the axe rip free of its hold and reached for the rock wall desperately with his left hand while trying to wedge it in again with his right. Another swift kick to his head disoriented him. He felt the ice axe start to slip out of his hand. As he strained to hold on to that lifeline, the female vampire pulled him violently to the right, wrenching his left hand away from its hold. He started to fall backward, his feet the only thing holding him and Bobby up. The weight on the rope tugged inexorably downward and Sam’s hand searched the granite surface for anything to cling to.

He and Bobby were going to die.

Suddenly, the weight on the rope vanished. Sam heard Bobby shout, his voice falling away. Sam’s arms reached out, scraping along the granite, the toothed axe ripping down the side of the rock face. Then it caught. Sam’s left hand struggled for a hold and he scrambled his feet against the cliff, both finding purchase. He clung to the wall, breath coming in gasps.

Blinking his eyes clear, he looked down. The end of the lifeline flapped loose. Bobby had cut the rope. The sheer cliff face stretched below, ending two hundred feet down in a jumble of rocks. A few snow-covered ledges protruded out, but he didn’t see Bobby on any of them.

“Bobby!” Sam shouted. “Bobby!”

A gust of wind came screaming around the ridge, pinning him against the rock. No one answered.

Above, he heard the vampires laugh.