“You stay at the entrance,” Willa told her firmly, sweeping her gaze around the cave at the teenagers, most of them already awake from the sudden shift in the room’s energy. “All of you stay inside. Grace, you’re in charge. Keep the fire going, and nobody comes outside.”
“Mom—” Grace began to object.
“Grace.” Willa held her daughter’s eyes for exactly one second. “I need you right here. That’s your job for now.”
Grace pressed her lips together and nodded once.
Without another look at her daughter, Willa pushed through the makeshift door at the cave entrance.
The cold and the wet closed around her immediately as she stepped outside. The rain was coming in heavy bursts now, rather than the relentless sheets it had been pelting down in when the storm started. The gusts were still strong, but it wasn’t the wind and rain causing the problem at the moment. It was the slick, unpredictable ground that was the real obstacle. Willa felt it through her boots within her first two steps. The saturated soil shifted underfoot, the rock apron ahead gleamed with a thin film of water that caught what little gray light peeked through the angry clouds. Willa kept her weight low and moved with care.
Rad was ahead of her with the rope over one shoulder and the flashlight in his hand, the beam aimed at the ground rather than the distance. Margo fell in beside Willa, one hand briefly touching her arm as they moved.
“Ace said he could hold on,” Margo repeated, and Willa could hear the strain underneath the words as Margo tried to convince herself she’d made the right decision leaving Ace.
“Then he’ll hold on,” Willa replied, and gave her friend’s hand a gentle pat. “He’s Ace. You know how resilient he is.”
“Yes, he’s Ace,” Margo muttered, but a glance at her wide eyes and set jaw told Willa Margo was not convinced and was racked with guilt.
“He’s going to be fine!” Willa assured her again, and Margo pushed through the rain, her face focused ahead on Rad.
They reached the rock apron, and Rad moved to the edge first, dropping straight to one knee, the flashlight pointing down.
Willa and Margo were right behind him.
Rad leaned over the edge with the flashlight and swept the beam along the rock face below.
Nothing.
Willa’s stomach dropped.
“Where is he?” Rad called out, his voice sharp and loud over the wind. He turned to Margo, his eyes urgent. “Margo, where exactly was he? Which section of the edge?”
“Right there,” Margo pointed, her voice cracking. “He was right there. With both of his hands on the lip. I swear he was holding on when I left him.” Her eyes widened with terror, and her voice rose. “He was right there!” Her head shot around as she looked further down the shelf. “He was right there.” She pointed. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as she turned to look at Rad. “Right there.”
Rad swung the flashlight beam further along the face and then down, further down than the four-foot drop they had expected, scanning the broken rock surface below.
“Ace!” Rad shouted. “Ace, can you hear me?”
The wind pushed back at them.
Margo pressed both hands over her mouth and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Ace! Ace, where are you?” The fear echoed through the call. “You promised. You promised me you’d hang on. ACE.”
The world around them fell quickly and Willa felt like she was rooted to the spot. Her breath had caught in her throat, blocked by the abject terror rising from her soul and tearing through her body.
Then a voice came up from below, strained and rough but present.
“Down here,” Ace called back.
All three of them rushed to the edge, dropping to their knees on the wet rock, and Rad swung the flashlight beam downward and to the left. Willa let out a long breath as her heart started to pound, and relief pounded through her system. The flashlight bounced off the rock face until it hit Ace, who was below them, further down than the original drop. He was face-first with his cheek pressed against the rock face. Both of his arms were wrapped around a cluster of thick branches jutting from a narrow ledge in the rock. The yellow rain slicker had ridden up across his back during the slide and was twisted around his torso. Aces’ hands were gripping the branches with everything he had, and even from above, Willa could see the tension in his arms and shoulders.
“Ace.” Willa’s voice came out steadier than she felt. “Are you hurt?”
“I’ll live,” Ace called back up. “The slicker took most of it. My ribs are a bit sore, and my hands are pretty torn up, but I’m okay. I can’t get any purchase on the rock face to climb back up, though. It’s too slick.”
“Don’t try to move,” Rad told him firmly. “Don’t move at all. We’ve got the rope.”
“That would be great,” Ace replied, and even from up here Willa could hear the effort it was costing him to keep his voice even.
