Ander - Part 2: Subchapter 35
35
The pass did a marvellous job of blocking the shearing winds, but the terrain was horrible. Several times Sarah almost stumbled and fell when invisible rocks slid out from under her feet, the subtle uphill climb was constantly draining her of what little energy she had left, and Andrew wasn't getting any lighter either.
How long has it been since she climbed out of that window? Her sense of time was all screwed up, and with the sky darkened over she couldn't even estimate. At least it hasn't started raining yet, but bolts of lightning still flashed overhead every now and then, turning the pass into black and white slivers of rock and shadow, so any hopes of the storm passing over seemed unlikely.
Sarah suddenly felt herself pitch forward for no reason whatsoever. She didn't trip and there were no loose rocks underfoot, but she was going down regardless.
She stuck her leg out on pure reflex, stopping her fall, but the sudden movement woke the pain in her loins all over again. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was turn her head away from Andrew and cough into the night. It was a wet, bitter sound.
She spat, a behaviour most unladylike, but she couldn't stand having that bloody taste in her mouth. She soldiered on, trying not to think about how she almost fell on her baby yet again, about how that was the third time this night she teetered over the abyss of unconsciousness. She was just so tired, so very, very tired. She'd think about stopping for a rest, just a short little rest, just five minutes to get her breath back, but then the lightning would flash or Andrew would scream in her arms or that nagging voice in her head would speak up again, all to remind her of what she was doing and who she was doing it for, reminding her that time was against them.
So she walked, and she walked, never stopping.
Not until she reached the drop-off.
She knew it was coming, of course. She wasn't so out of it as to forget what lay ahead. At least, not yet. A part of her just trusted that she'd come up with an idea by the time she got there.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she had whispered every time the drop-off crept into her thoughts. Well, they were here now, but no miraculous solution came sprouting out of the ether. Only the wind and the cold.
Andrew screamed. Now that they were so near the mouth of the pass, the wind had no trouble finding them again. It rippled her clothes and threatened to tear Andrew's impromptu blanket from his body. It swirled all around them in an eddy, caught between the two sheer walls of the mountain.
Sarah could hear the rope Kadai had fastened somewhere up ahead, slapping against the rocks in a random rhythm.
How on earth was she going to get down from here? Even if she could climb down that rope in her current condition, how was she supposed to do it while holding a screaming infant?
She tried to think of an answer, but none would come. She imagined herself sliding down the rope with one hand while holding Andrew in the other, but such a fancy was ridiculous. She'd need both hands to have even the slightest chance of making it down alive.
"Well, Andrew? Any ideas?" She looked down at her baby, but if he had any ingenious plans hidden away in that cute little head of his, he wasn't sharing.
Come on, Sarah. Think!
She briefly considered pulling up the end of the rope, tying it around Andrew's waist and then lowering him down ahead of herself, but the way the gale kept swinging and slapping it against the side of the mountain, it was impossible.
If Sarah had had any younger brothers or sisters, she may have had some kind of experience to draw on, but she didn't. Instead, she thought back to all the times she was sent into town to buy supplies, all the times she had seen vixens with cubs walking the roads.
Most just held their cubs in their arms like she was doing right now, but some carried their babies around in baskets, wrapped up all snugly in soft, clean blankets.
If she had one of those baskets, she might have been able to hang it around her neck and keep Andrew safe that way.
What's the point in thinking about stuff you don't have!? she berated herself. That rope is hard enough to climb when it's bone-dry, how much harder do you think it'll be when it's all slippy with rain? Get a move on!
Sarah shook her head a little, trying to clear the cobwebs. She may not have a basket, but what did she have with her? The clothes on her back, and the towel around Andrew's body. That's it. Oh, and all the loose rocks and twigs within reach, don't forget about them.
Wait, she may not have a basket, but hanging something around her neck wasn't such a bad idea. She awkwardly reached up past Andrew to inspect the clasp of her cloak, tugging on it with her finger. From what she saw back at home, it was just a simple pair of little brass baubles, but they felt plenty strong, and the hook would keep them from coming loose.
She hoped.
"Sorry, Andrew. I'm going to have to put you down for a little while, okay?"
Sarah bent her knees with a grunt of pain and gently lowered Andrew down onto a flat piece of stone, grateful for the towel wrapped around his body.
Moving quickly, the thought of her baby lying on the ice-cold ground a torture in her mind, she took off her cloak and put it on again backwards - quite a task in the dark with the wind constantly trying to rip it out of her hands. The hood now hung below her chin with the cape end blowing out in front of her. It was a bit weird, but this was the best she could come up with.
She reached out, following the sound of Andrew's cries until her fingers found the soft texture of the towel, so out of place in this pass of hard rocks and gritty sand.
"Okay, I've got you, I've got you," Sarah crooned, picking him up. "Now, let's see if this works..." With her knees still bent (she didn't want to try this too high up from the ground in case something went wrong), she carefully put Andrew into the makeshift pouch hanging against her chest. The clasp pulled a bit uncomfortably on the back of her neck as it took Andrew's weight, but other than that, it worked like a charm. He fit rather snugly, and all wrapped up like he was, he couldn't squirm around very much.
"Wow, this might actually work," Sarah whispered, hardly daring to believe it. Now all she had to worry about was -
A wave of dizziness washed over her with alarming speed. The world of up and down suddenly had no meaning, and she had to plant her palms against the ground to keep from falling over. Nausea bubbled up inside her stomach and shot up her throat in a bitter, burning stream. She pushed Andrew up against her shoulder and turned her head away just in time to let loose a torrent of hot vomit onto the ground.
Andrew's cries intensified as her stomach contracted again and again, bouncing him up and down as even more of the vile liquid splashed against the rocks.
"Ohhh..." she moaned, her entire body shivering. There was something terribly wrong here. That didn't taste like vomit at all. It didn't even feel like vomit.
Lightning flashed overhead, arcing among the clouds, bathing the world in its hellish, unforgiving light, showing Sarah exactly what it was she had just done, whether she wanted to see it or not.
Blood. Blood everywhere. From deep splashes to dark droplets to a fine spray at the furthest reaches, covering the stones, seeping in between the cracks, mixing with the sand. By the gods, it looked like someone had just slaughtered a goat in this place...
Sarah could feel her heart racing in her chest, but it had none of the intensity she normally associated with extreme exercise or nervousness. What has always been a hard thumping in her veins on hard workdays was now nothing more than a mild flutter, but the speed at which it was going was almost as scary as the blood all around her. It felt like her heart had been replaced by a hornet, its wings flapping violently but uselessly against her ribcage. And to top it all off, the cold was getting even worse. She could feel it in her hands and feet and the tip of her nose, seeping inside her blood just like her blood was seeping into the earth.
She wouldn't be able to keep going much longer. That she was certain of.
"Come o -" the taste of her own blood, coating her throat, making her gag. She spat into the darkness. "Come on, Andrew. It's almost time to meet your daddy. You'd like that, right? To meet your family?"
Andrew cried. He just cried and cried. Maybe he knew his mother was... in bad shape? Or maybe he didn't want to go to the other Wolves? Sarah didn't know all that much about them. Kadai has told her many things, but he was always so secretive about his family. She didn't know if they would be good to Andrew, or even accepting of him, but she did know there was no place for him in Grovenglen, not while her father still lived and breathed.
"I'm sorry, Andrew," she said, carefully standing upright. "It's almost over, I promise..."
Moving slowly, walking as though she was balancing on a shoddy raft in the middle of the Farmer's River, Sarah made her way to the edge of the drop-off.
She kissed Andrew on the forehead and took the rope in her hands.
I tested out Sarah's idea by wearing a hoodie backwards and filling it with oranges. :P
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