Hold
Tight
By
Rocket
Episode
8.11: Part Four
“Hold
on, kid - here comes the roller!” Dirt and stones
rained down as the world groaned and shook once again.
A cracking noise echoed loudly around them. The aftershock
rumbled away into the distance and MacGyver uncurled,
shaking grit out of his hair.
“You OK, son?” Sam coughed and nodded carefully.
MacGyver sat back on his heels and glanced at his watch.
He frowned, watching Sam make another attempt at standing
up. This time he made it to one knee before dizziness
overtook him and he lost his balance. MacGyver stretched
out and looked over the ledge. Vertigo made the scene
below dip and swim, and he rolled back, closing his eyes
and waiting for the dizziness to fade. He opened his eyes
to find Sam watching him, the ghost of a smile on his
face.
“We make a pair, Dad!” MacGyver grinned back,
fighting a sense of desperation. They were running out
of daylight, they were a long way from the ground and
Sam was in no shape for climbing. An ominous new crack
in the overhang meant they couldn’t stay up there
for very long, and rescue services would have their hands
too full dealing with casualties to worry about a couple
of out-of-town climbers who, quite probably, no-one had
missed.
What could he do?
“Empty your pack, Sam. Let’s see what we’ve
got.” MacGyver emptied his bag onto the ledge, sorting
the contents into piles. He watched Sam do the same, thinking
hard. The final equipment count, including the contents
of their pockets, came to:
Two coils of rope, a handful of carabiners, three and
a half sandwiches, a first aid kit, two canteens of water,
one camera in a hard case and a Swiss Army knife.
Another aftershock hit as MacGyver was sorting the equipment,
this one more violent. MacGyver scrambled away from the
edge, bracing his back against the rock as everything
shook. The pile of gear shifted and slid towards the edge.
MacGyver shot out a foot, but was too late to save one
of the coils of rope and Sam’s backpack from slipping
over the edge.
* * * *
Once the shock had passed. MacGyver pulled their equipment
back to a safer spot. One coil of rope meant they didn’t
have enough to safely climb down and, with Sam concussed,
he daren’t chance free-climbing the rest of the
way. So they’d have to make their way back to the
top and try to attract attention from there. Re-coiling
their remaining rope, MacGyver frowned at the rock above
them. Getting round the overhang was tricky at the best
of times, but with Sam dizzy and unable to balance, it
would be impossible.
In the distance MacGyver heard the distinctive sound of
a helicopter. At least the rescue services were in the
area and probably looking for climbers. The helicopter
flew at an angle towards them, but banked away before
it was close enough to signal. Their ledge was shadowed
in the late afternoon light and, even in their bright
coats, they’d be impossible to see.
“Stay here. I’m going to climb up and work
out a way to get us back up to the top.”
Sam frowned.
“We’re not going down?”
“No, we’re too high up already. Wait here,
OK?” MacGyver looped the coil of rope across his
shoulders and set his boot in a crack.
Sam watched his father climb up. He blinked hard, vertigo
making his world swim again. When MacGyver’s boots
disappeared up out of sight, he felt very alone.
* * * *
The climb back up felt very different. New cracks had
appeared, pitons couldn’t be trusted and debris
made the climb treacherous. By the time MacGyver reached
the top, he was white and shaking. Looking around made
vertigo crawl at the edges of his vision, but from this
angle he could see the helicopter circling. A glance at
the sky told him they didn’t have much time left
before it grew dark and the search would be called off
for the night. Whatever they were going to do, they’d
have to do it quickly.
The top of the cliff was relatively unchanged, apart from
a deep new crack in the middle. A boulder had wedged itself
in the crack and MacGyver studied it carefully, feeling
all around it. He looped the rope around the boulder and
leant his full weight on it, but the boulder didn’t
shift. Would it hold Sam’s weight? He thought it
would. Knotting the rope securely around the boulder,
MacGyver took off his bright coat and weighted it down
with loose rocks as an indicator to the helicopter that
someone was here, then climbed back down.
* * * *
Sam woke with a jump when MacGyver’s boot scraped
on the rock above him. He hadn’t realised that he’d
drifted off again, and that scared him. He still saw everything
doubled and his head ached, but at least he didn’t
feel sick. MacGyver swung around the overhang on a rope,
looking cheerful.
“Hey, Sam. How’re you doing?”
“Better, I think.” Sam smiled back.
“Good. I got a rope secured to help us climb back
up, we just need to figure out a way to get you up there.”
MacGyver checked Sam’s pulse, stared into his eyes
and brushed the hair gently off his forehead. “How
dizzy are you now? Honestly, Sam – this is no time
for heroics.”
“Honestly? Not good.” Sam rolled onto his
knees, but couldn’t balance enough to stay on his
feet. MacGyver watched him, frowning.
“If we can make you a harness, maybe I can haul
you up around the overhang. After that, you don’t
need to balance so much because you’ll be leaning
forward onto the rock.”
“Yeah.” Sam looked at their pile of equipment.
Nothing looked like it could be repurposed to make a harness.
Suddenly feeling hot, he unzipped his coat and shrugged
it off, pushing it down around his waist. Then his hands
stilled and he looked up at his Dad. “Dad, we could...”
“I’ll just bet we could!” MacGyver grinned
and nodded.
Reaching for the coat, MacGyver knotted the sleeves around
Sam’s waist and then pulled the body of the coat
up, tying it in place with the strap from the camera case.
Attaching a carabiner on each side, MacGyver stood back
to admire his handiwork. The makeshift harness seemed
serviceable, even if it did make Sam look like he was
wearing a giant yellow diaper.
MacGyver pulled in the loose end of the rope, passing
it through the carabiners and around Sam’s back.
He packed the remains of their gear into his own backpack,
wrapped Sam’s arm over his shoulders and helped
him to stand. They shuffled to the edge, Sam dizzy and
unable to walk on his own. He positioned Sam at the edge
of the drop, made sure he had a firm grip on the rock
and then stepped back.
“OK, son. I’m going to climb back up to the
top now. Wait until I call you, then gently let go. The
rope’ll catch you and then I can haul you up the
first part.” Sam took a deep breath and nodded.
The plan made sense, but he’d already fallen once
today and he wasn’t sure he could bear to let go
of the rock again.
MacGyver climbed quickly back up, less dizzy now that
he was familiar with the route and had a clear plan to
put into action. Distraction, as Nikki had noted, did
seem to push the fear and the vertigo into the background.
Reaching the top, he turned and called back down.
“Now, Sam! Let go and let the rope catch you!”
* * * *
Down below, Sam took a deep breath and tried to unclench
his fingers. Visions of falling, spiralling away into
the air, flashed through his head and he gasped, fingers
tightening on the rock. This must be how his Dad felt,
he decided.
“SAM? YOU OK DOWN THERE?”
It took Sam three attempts to find his voice. He had his
eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing the drop.
“Gimme a minute, Dad...” Sam took a deep breath,
telling himself that his Dad’s inventions always
worked. Hadn’t they invented a water-powered rocket
pack from a couple of fire hoses and a handful of scrap?
This was far less mad than that... Wasn’t it? He
screwed up his face, held his breath and let go.
For a moment he fell, then the rope was taut under his
hands and he was dangling in mid-air. The ground swung
underneath him and Sam shut his eyes again as a wave of
nausea hit.
* * * *
“THAT’S GOOD, SAM!” MacGyver watched
his son step away from the ledge. He wasn’t sure
he’d have had the courage to let go if their roles
had been reversed. He gripped the rope, leaning back and
pulling hard. He’d collected his coat and padded
the edge of the rock so that the rope wouldn’t fray
as he hauled Sam up. Sam was heavy and MacGyver could
only haul him up a few inches at a time. His gloves saved
him from the worst of the rope burns, but the pulling
made his hand ache fiercely. Refusing to give in and risk
dropping Sam, MacGyver wrapped the rope around his back,
braced his feet against the rock and pulled harder than
ever.
* * * *
Sam spun gently as he inched up past the overhang. As
soon as he could, he reached for hand and footholds, trying
to take some of his own weight and ease the load on his
Dad and on the single rope that supported him. He couldn’t
judge distance that well and this, combined with his double
vision, meant that he couldn’t help as much as he
wanted. Still, he got to the top sooner than he expected,
his Dad’s strong arms reaching down and pulling
him up onto the top of the cliffs.
MacGyver pulled Sam to the centre of the summit, as far
away from the edges as he could. The sun had set while
they’d worked their way to the top and now it was
getting dark. MacGyver could still hear the helicopter,
but it wouldn’t be searching for much longer. In
theory they could stay here until morning, but he really
wanted to get Sam to a doctor and he didn’t trust
that there wouldn’t be any more aftershocks. How
could they attract the attention of the helicopter?
“Dad? I got an idea...” MacGyver turned to
see Sam rummaging in the rucksack. “My camera’s
in here, right?”
“Yeah... What are you thinking?”
“I spend a lot of time photographing in remote places.”
Sam stilled for a moment, waiting for a wave of dizziness
to pass. “I’ve got a really good flash on
here, and the battery lasts for ages. We could signal
to the helicopter!” He pulled out the camera and
detached the flash from the top. “Here.”
“Son, you have no idea how proud I am of you!”
MacGyver took the flash and pointed it towards the circling
helicopter. He flashed out ‘S...O...S’ again
and again until the flash battery died. The helicopter
changed direction, sweeping it’s searchlight towards
them. MacGyver and Sam waved hard and then Sam pulled
off his coat/harness and held it up high. The searchlight
stopped and swung back, lighting up the bright yellow
coat, and the helicopter came to hover overhead. A figure
swung down on a rope, landing beside them. The paramedic
pushed back a heavy hood and her dark hair spilled out.
She turned and MacGyver did a double take.
“You OK, Sir?” She looked so familiar in the
half-light that MacGyver couldn’t find his voice.
“Sir?” Her voice sounded hauntingly familiar
too.
He nodded, overcome.
“Sir? You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”
The paramedic turned to attend to Sam, checking his head
and asking him questions. MacGyver shivered, watching
her hook Sam up to a harness and signal for him to be
winched up to safety. He didn’t really believe in
ghosts or reincarnation or any of that stuff, but right
now he could almost believe he was wrong...
MacGyver caught the harness as it was lowered back down
to him. He put it on and gripped the rope as he was pulled
up, the paramedic riding another line beside him.
“Thanks for hanging onto me.” He unclipped
the harness and stowed it under the seat.
“No problem. “ The paramedic turned, smiling
at him from behind her wavy hair. “I’ve spent
half my life hanging onto people just like you.”
She turned and tapped the pilot on the shoulder, leaving
MacGyver to stare open-mouthed at her as the helicopter
rose and flew away into the night.
The
End
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