“See the rope hanging on your left? About three feet from the rock face?”
I glanced sideways, careful not to move my head. Thebraided climbing rope I’d seen earlier still dangled from above, its end coiled on the ground.
“I see it,” I whispered.
“When I tell you, not before, you’re going to run and grab the rope.”
The moose pawing intensified, dirt flying behind its massive hooves.
“Noah, I don’t think …”
“Trust me.” His calm certainty steadied my rising panic. “You’re going to climb, and I’m going to pull. But we have to time this perfectly.”
“I busted my ankle trying to find you.” I winced when I tried to put my weight on it.
“That moose is going to bust a lot more than your ankle if you don’t get out of its range.”
“Noah … I don’t think I can do this.”
“Youcando this, Sam, and you will. Just like we practiced on the climbing wall. Just like when you saved that osprey. Get to the rope. Start climbing. And hold on.” He shifted his position slightly, bracing himself against the cliff. “The moose’s first charge will be a feint. A warning. But she’ll stop short. That’s when you move. Not even a second early. Definitely not a second late.”
The mother moose lowered her head further, muscles bunching beneath her thick hide.
“Get ready,” Noah murmured. “When she charges, count to three, then dive for the rope.”
The clearing fell silent, even the birds holding their breath as the standoff continued. The moose’s eyes, dark pools of primal ferocity, locked with mine.
Everything stopped.
“Wait for it …”
Time froze.
“Get ready …”
The moose charged.
My brain screamed for me to run, to climb, to do anything but stand there counting.
“One,” I forced out between clenched teeth.
The distance between us halved in an instant. Her massive head lowered like a battering ram.
“Two.” My voice cracked.
The moose kept coming. I could see the individual hairs on her muzzle now.
“THREE!” Noah and I shouted in unison.
The ground shook beneath her thundering hooves as the moose skidded to a stop, her feint complete. Just like Noah said.
I dove for the rope, fingers wrapping around the rough nylon, yanking it toward me.
The moose bellowed in frustration and wheeled around for a second charge, one that would NOT be a warning.
“Climb! Now!” Noah called, his voice sharp.
With shaking hands, I fumbled with the rope. The angry moose pawed the ground again, preparing for round two.
