Dahl's injured ankle folded under and a bright flare of pain raced up her calf. She cried out in pain, lost her balance, and landed hard on her backside. Gravity reached up, dragging her down as the steep slope slid towards the cliff face. Eve leaned out, grabbed her by the hand, and hauled her back to safety.
Moss heard the commotion, reeled around, dug his feet in and peered up, his jaw dropping. The cliff path above him slid down, picking up speed and mass, so he dove to the side. Rolling rocks and slapping underbrush lifted him up and carried him towards the edge.
The world tilted at a disorienting angle. Up was down; down was up and 20 yards below a mile high drop lay in wait. Moss grabbed at the nearest bush, but came up empty.
Dahl and Eve called in unison as the jungle undergrowth became a slippery quagmire. Moss groped at the passing foliage, but the shallow brush pulled out in clods of twisted roots. A few long branches tangled around his dirty glove and he jerked to a painful stop, arm stretching upward at an unnatural angle. He screamed in agony as a sickening pop exploded out of shoulder. The tangle of roots securing the branches to the muddy cliff-side held.
"Are you all right?" Dahl shrieked.
"I've been better."
She stood, preparing to move down to him.
"Stop," he blared, looking over his dislocated shoulder. "It's not safe. The slope is loose." He waved her off with a trembling hand. "Just give me a minute to catch my breath and I'll come back up to you. We can find another way down."
"There," Dahl called out, eyes widening, face paling. "In the brush by your feet," Dahl pointed down the narrow path. "There's a body."
Moss peered up, drew in a deep restorative breath, praying she was wrong. They had come down the narrow trail, hoping to find Lilith alive, only to find a corpse. Moss hadn't told his comrades. He thought Lilith was dead; he hadn't even admitted it to himself. But no one could survive the swarm of creatures that descended upon her. But as long as she was missing, he could tell himself she was still alive.
The uprooted shrub Moss dangled from letting go and he slid down a few inches. Dahl shrieked. "God dammit," he blared up at her. "Will you stop doing that?" The bush had ended the downward fall, but even now, he was lucky to be alive.
He eased his heels into the soggy, loose soil and the ground gave way. Mud and stone flew out over the cliff edge and fell away. After a few tense moments, the avalanche struck the lush green canopy far below, sending up a flock of frightened cawing birds.
That would have been us, he thought, pushing away the images of their twisted bodies laying at the bottom of the cliff base. What a shit show this turned out to be. He looked around, trying desperately to find another handhold as Eve and Dahl looked on wide-eyed. His disjointed shoulder exploded with pain as he slipped down again. He fumbled his knife out and made to cut the branches, but the grating motions rocketed up his twisted arm and punched him in the shoulder. The world around him shrank and spun, and he almost dropped the knife.
After 10 hours of working their way down the vertical cliff-side trail, they had not passed the halfway point. Two thousand feet of slippery rock face lay between them and the beaches below.
Dahl's ankle was the size of her calf and Eve's calf was a haggard mess the size of Dahl's ankle. A noticeable chunk was missing. In his current condition, there was no way he could help get them back to the summit. And they wouldn't be able to help him either. Moss peered up at Dahl, noticing a heavy layer of blood on the sleeve of his arm. "Isn't that's just fucking great" he said to himself. "And you re-broke your arm."
In the past few hours, Moss had looked back more than he had watched his own muddy boots, missing the deteriorating slope and allowing them to venture deeper into an untenable situation.
None of them had given the trail much thought or the respect it deserved. After Lilith's horrifying disappearance, the trio descended into the underbrush straight ahead, not seeing the carved stairs on the side of the slope. Their twisted descent lined up in the direction the swarm had flown off in.
In his rush to save the woman he loved, Moss had reconfigured his motion tracker to work as a topography generator. The original device used radar pulses to generate snapshots of approaching objects, but now it glimpsed behind the dense vegetation to ensure nothing lay in wait. He described his tracker 2.0 as a horizontal fish finder, revealing everything a hundred meters straight ahead. What it did not show was soil depth. Which had thinned to less than two feet of muddy soil, covering a base of slippery rock.
Moss pressed his back into the soggy terrain, trying to keep himself from slipping any lower. Each time he did, it felt as if someone was trying to tear his arm off. As he lay there realizing the impassable terrain was just another obstacle thrown up to keep out unwanted visitors, the cliff face slipped down. His heart filled his throat and tear coursed through his veins.
"Can you get up?" Dahl called down, preparing to step down to offer him a hand.
"Stop," he ordered, waving her back. "It's too loose. It won't hold your weight." He knew it wouldn't hold him, either. Not for much longer. But he couldn't tell Dahl that she'd risk her life to save him even if it meant she would die, too. "Just move back."
"Are you calling me fat?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. He mustered a weak smile, and in his eyes, she saw what he already knew. He was in serious trouble. And that he was trying to hide it only made her more scared. She moved to go lower, but Eve held her fast.
Moss's eyes were on the same level as Dahl's boots and Eve's boots were level with Dahl's eyes. From straight on, the trio looked as though they were standing on one another's shoulders. But they were actually about 10 feet apart.
"Back up," he said.
"That's the third time you've told me what to do."
"Now," he replied
"No."
He cast a grim order over Dahl's shoulder, and Eve saw the truth in his face. He was in serious trouble. She closed her hands around Dahl's upper arms, ready to haul her back up the slope if the bank gave way. He nodded, thanking her for the unspoken help. Dahl was prone to impulsive acts, and he didn't want to be the reason she died.
He stretched backward, fingering the tip of a long branch with a trembling hand. He wanted to pull himself towards them. But his muddy glove only slid off, again and again. For all his efforts, he only slipped closer towards the edge. He leaned back again, digging the heels of his boots into the squishy soil, and the trail beneath him vibrated and groaned. The whole damn trail is going to give way if you keep doing that. But what other option was there?
Dahl saw his expression and blurted, "What? What's wrong?"
Moss gestured for Dahl and Eve to go back in the direction they came from. "Move your asses. The cliff side is coming down."
"I won't leave you," Dahl protested, gesturing for Eve to toss her the walking stick she had just dropped. Eve handed it over. "Take this," Dahl said, squatting down and shoving the end of the stick towards Moss.
He reached up, muddy gloves tickling the end of the stick. It teased him, slapping it away with every attempt to seize it.
"Really," he said to himself, grimacing at the taunting walking stick. "Fucking hold still."
He straightened his shaking legs, forcing himself upward, and used his remaining strength. He grabbed the walking stick and, for the first time in what seemed like hours, he felt anchored to something solid.
Dahl looked down, a momentary sense of relief easing the tension in her severe expression. Moss dragged himself upward, biting at the branches tangled around his useless hand. As the brush let go, a bright agony stabbed his shoulder.
His cramping hand slid down the walking stick, and his heels slammed into the earlier indentations. The full weight of his body opened a foot wide crack between him and the others. Dahl thrust the stick out again, but his flailing was nowhere near the tip. He pulled the tracker strap over his head and lobbed it to Eve. "Promise me you'll get her out of here alive."
Eve nodded, realization gripping her face.
Moss lay his head back, peering up at the sky above, wishing he could be there to see her escape this hellhole.
"Don't give up on me!" Dahl screamed, elbowing Eve in the ribs to make her let go. Eve winced and tightened her grip. She had made Moss a promise.
"Don't be stupid!" Moss yelled back, looking at Dahl with a desperate stare. "The trail is giving way."
"Just hold on. I can pull you up," Dahl blared, elbowing Eve in the face.
As Eve lost her grip, Dahl seized the opportunity to dive forward. She jammed the walking stick in Moss's outstretched hand as Eve leapt behind, morphing into the creature. Massive hands curled around Dahl's ankles and she let out a scream of agony. The two women crashed down, flopping on their bellies as a wide fissure opened between them and Moss. Dahl screamed as an adrenaline fueled rage filled her veins. She heaved him up a foot. An instant later, powerful hands yanked her up, sending a cascade of pain upwards from her swollen ankle, through her rigid body and out her mouth gaping mouth. But she did not release her grip. Moss's hands were at the edge of the crack. Another foot and she could grab them. She strained with all her might.
Muscle tremors coming off Dahl's reverberating body coursed down the stick as she strained to support his weight. He could see pain and prayer in her eyes. She could see the growing fear in him.
Several things happened in quick succession. Eve- drained of energy- shifted back into human form, lost her grip and both women slid down. Dahl sank face first into the widening fissure, fumbled the stick and Moss slammed his heels first into the moist soil. Above him, the entire bank beneath Dahl and Eve slid down another few feet.
"No," Dahl blared, reaching out. But this time, Eve yanked her up and backwards. Dahl landed in Eve's lap in a semi-seated position.
"Stop, God dammit," blared up at her. "Or you'll get yourselves killed." He looked around, searching for a handhold, or a way out of the looming danger. But every time he moved, the loose bank threatened to let go. He peered over his shoulder at Dahl and said, "This isn't your fault. I should have been paying better attention. Just go back up the trail the way we came and find another path down to the beach." Then he leaned back, closed his eyes and said in a calm tone, "I'm just gonna hangout here until I get my strength back and then, I'll catch up. You go on. I'll be ok."
Dahl turned to Eve wearing a horrified look of desperation, tears flowing, mouth pleading soundless words. Eve felt sick. Helpless. Guilty. She shoved Dahl forward, extracted herself from the sagging bank and ran up the trail out of sight. Dahl froze in shock, thinking she left us. A minute later, Eve reappeared, dragging a long sapling. She dropped to her knees behind Dahl, shoved the small tree into her hands, and shouted, "Use this!"
Dahl pushed it towards Moss. "Grab it."
Moss took it, but turned back when he saw Eve squinting at something on the trail below him. An upside down sole peeked out from beneath the dense cluster of foliage. It looked as if someone had fallen on the trail and slid to a stop face down, concealed by the dense underbrush. When Dahl processed what she saw, she shook her head no, as if trying to divert attention away from the boot. But it was already too late. Moss had looked down, spotted the boot and was about to do something stupid.
"No," Dahl shouted as Moss let go of the sapling and inched down and grabbed the boot.
The boot pulled out of its resting place with a severed hairy calf protruding from the still laced cuff. Moss threw it over the cliff. "It's not her."
"You idiot," Dahl said, overextending herself to reach Moss. "Take it," she screamed, leaning out even further. Moss's finger tips skimmed the top branches.. Eve released the walking stick and grabbed Dahl by the waistband of her pants and the two women hung over the growing crack.
Moss shook his head, and the ground gave way beneath him, leaving Dahl suspended over the edge of the fissure. She hung in the eerie silence, face cast in horror, waiting for the crash from far below. But no sound came. It was as if Moss had vanished right along with Lilith.