Chapter 6
Ethan wasn't a religious person, but he did send out a quick prayer of thanks to whatever deity was there. He was acutely aware that they, especially Connor, were running out of time. His injuries were one thing, but the weather conditions were getting worse by the minute. Ethan worried what that meant for their rescue attempts. Somehow he couldn't imagine a chopper risking a flight during the rain and the lightning that was coming closer.
As if to prove him right, a thunder struck into a tree somewhere down below. The crack was loud and Ethan jerked, his body once again leaning over Connor instinctively. He cursed and Connor let out a pained grunt as the movement jarred his arm.
"Sorry," Ethan apologized, trying to shake off the chill of apprehension running down his spine.
He wasn't a fan of thunderstorms on the best of days. But being stuck in one while hanging on a ledge in the middle of a forest was stretching his own limits.
"It's alright, help is here," Ethan said, seeing Connor's pain filled eyes roam around, as if searching for relief.
"What if it's late?" Connor asked, his voice shaking with a mix of apprehension and cold.
Ethan shook his head.
"Nah. They will be quick," he reassured Connor. Hoping he was right.
There was some rustling from above and a voice called out "Look out!" just as there was a small avalanche of dirt and more water falling down from the sky.
Ethan decided that perhaps he should just keep covering Connor permanently, until the rescuers made it down. Hopefully without burying them in rocks first.
"Everyone okay?" came the question a few seconds later. Ethan shook his head, huffing angrily as he could feel the rain and dirt trickling down the back of his neck as well as his face. He had maneuvered Connor as far against the rock wall as possible to offer the most protection, with little success.
"Fine. But you better hurry up!" he called back, irritated. Connor below him snorted. So much for keeping up the picture of calmness.
"Working as fast as possible. Hang in there."
Ethan rolled his eyes. As if there was anything else to do?
He looked up at the sound of a drill. He couldn't see much, but he could see a construction being positioned above them. He squinted, brushing the rain off his face to clear his vision. There was a metal tripod being set up on the edge above. He thought he could see a winching mechanism there...
A face popped over the edge and their eyes met. The man gave him a wave and smiled.
"I will be coming down in a sec. You better cover up... there might be dirt and rocks falling down."
Ethan nodded. There wasn't much he could use, perhaps maybe the Mylar blanket that covered Connor. Ethan grimaced. He didn't want to nudge the man unnecessarily, but thought a momentary discomfort might be worth the protection.
"Connor? I will just... cover you up a bit, okay? From the falling dirt-" Ethan said, gently pulling the blanket up. Hoping Connor was aware enough not to panic.
An arm moved and Ethan paused mid motion.
"What?"
"You?" Connor asked and Ethan blinked, momentarily confused.
"What about me?"
Connor gave him a look as if he was being the one with brain damage.
"Take cover."
"Oh." Ethan blinked. Perhaps he was the idiot. He gave it only a second of thought however, shaking his head.
"Nah, I'm cool. Need to see what's going on, just in case."
Connor shot him a dubious look but didn't protest. Ethan pulled the blanket up. He made sure there was a space on the side to allow air access. He noted that the blanket had pulled off of Connor's feet but that was the least of his concerns right now.
As he looked upwards he could see a man stepping over the edge and slowly rappelling down. He didn't have a stretcher with him though and Ethan scowled at that. How were they planning to move Connor?
Before he could worry about that though, the rescuer made it down to his level. He was dangling just a bit above Connor.
"Hey there," he said with a smile. "You guys know how to make our day less boring, that's for sure," he joked, even as he was touching down on the ledge.
"It was hardly our intention," Ethan muttered but still couldn't help the relieved smile.
"I'm Mike. And you must be Ethan? And Connor?" Mike's eyes turned down towards the lump on the ground covered up in the blanket. Ethan nodded, pulling the blanket off of Connor's face, brushing away the dirt.
"Hey Connor, rescue is here. This is Mike." Ethan made the introductions, frowning when he saw the confusion in Connor's eyes. It took him a few seconds to turn his eyes towards Mike and it was clear he was having trouble focusing. Ethan really hoped it was just the hypothermia and not the blood loss or a head injury showing its effects.
"Did you fall too?" Connor asked, blinking at Mike. The man chuckled.
"Nah. Wouldn't be much help that way, would I?"
"Guess not," Connor agreed, still looking a bit caught off guard. Ethan checked his vitals, as much as it was possible. He was holding his own though.
Mike had moved around on the ledge, checking its stability and letting Ethan finish.
"What's his status?" He finally asked and Ethan looked at him with a raised brow. "It will be faster if you fill me in."
Ethan nodded.
"Possible fractured right ankle, one or two broken ribs. No sign of spinal injury as far as I can tell but he should still be stabilized with a back board. Deep laceration on left forearm. We couldn't stop the bleeding with pressure, had to apply a tourniquet. It's on for almost two hours now."
Mike grimaced but took in all the info with a nod.
"Head injury?"
Ethan nodded. "He was out for some time. Definitely concussion, but so far he stayed awake and fairly lucid."
"I can hear you, you know," Connor grumbled, disgruntled.
"And that's good," Mike winked, before turning on his radio and relaying all the info to his colleague on the top.
There was a small back and forth and Ethan's brow furrowed more and more.
"Alright, here is what we do," Mike turned to Ethan once the call was done. "I am assuming you do have some climbing experience... unless you managed to Mary Poppins your way down here."
Ethan huffed while Connor made a sound that was very close to a snort.
"I used a rope," Ethan nodded towards the paracord dangling several meters away. Mike nodded.
"A miracle you didn't fall. Or you got some skills. Either way, the plan is to get you up first-"
Ethan was already shaking his head.
"No. Connor should go first."
Mike gave him a look that verged on impatient, even as he made sure he was on stable ground. Then he started undoing his harness.
"This is not a debate. I'm in charge."
Ethan's eyes narrowed and his whole body tensed in preparation for a fight, however ridiculous that sounded.
Mike must've noticed, because he paused with a sigh.
"Look, there's hardly enough space for all of us as it is. I will need more space when the basket comes down. Getting it up might also cause some issues and instability, so yeah. You need to go up first. Then send back the basket."
It made sense, he knew. Still, the idea of leaving Connor behind, even if just for a short amount of time after what happened rubbed him wrong.
"You will need help getting him into the basket," Ethan attempted to negotiate. "And what if he needs medical assistance?" he added, even though he knew he was being ridiculous.
"I am a certified paramedic. And sooner you both get up, the sooner he can get the proper care. Hopefully before we get hit by lightning," he added, though in a lower voice.
Ethan still didn't think it was a good idea, but knew that arguing would mean losing precious time. Time that Connor didn't really have.
Reluctantly, he nodded and let Mike help him put on the harness.
"Good. Just keep your feet on the wall, Gary and the winch will do the rest," Mike said while he was making sure the harness was on properly.
"Make sure he is stabilized, alright? Don't jostle him around on the way up," Ethan said imploringly, casting a glance at Connor.
"Don't worry, he is in good hands," Mike reassured him.
"I will see you in few minutes Connor, alright?" Ethan asked, waiting for Connor to acknowledge him with a look. Ethan wasn't sure the man knew what exactly was going on, but perhaps that was for the best. The way up won't be anything to write home about. Ethan almost gave the signal to go when he remembered to grab his backpack. It was mostly empty now, but it had some sentimental value, being one of the bags he brought home from his army days.
"Ready," he noted.
"Alright, up you go," Mike nudged him towards the wall, his radio crackling as he let his colleague Gary know they were ready.
Ethan felt a tug at the harness and his hands instinctively curled up around the rope while his feet started a slow ascent. While climbing wasn't his favorite past time, definitely not during a rainstorm, doing so with a proper harness and safety on was much more preferable to his previous attempt. He was maybe halfway up when a gust of wind pushed him against the wall, followed by sleet of rain. Grimacing, Ethan scrambled to find some purchase, for a second forgetting he was secured. The crack of lightning that followed made his teeth hurt. Or perhaps it was the way his jaw clenched, eyes screwing shut and fingers digging into the rock.
For a moment everything paused. The air seemed to turn burning hot and the rain felt like a spray of blood on his face from a nearby grenade explosion...
Ethan felt like his chest was hit. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
He heard voices' calling at him, he heard screams and shots fired all around-
Something tugged at his waist, jostling him back into reality.
He was moving, despite his best effort to cling to the rock face. The harness was digging into his flesh and someone was yelling at him to let go-
Ethan blinked, water running down his face.
It felt ice cold though, not warm.
"Ethan! Get moving!" A familiar voice called from up above and Ethan shook his head. It didn't make sense... what was Will doing in Afghanistan?
Another tug at the harness and Ethan's fingers slipped. He lost contact with the wall, which caused him to spin around partially.
The sight of the valley and the stormy clouds erased all thoughts of the past and Ethan took in a deep a breath.
Flashback.
He had a bloody flashback in the middle of a rescue mission.
Ethan cursed, pushing away the feelings of embarrassment and shame. Locking them down along with memories of the past. This was no time for panic or soul searching. He had to get back up, so that Connor could follow.
With a new resolve, Ethan managed to straighten himself up and get back his footholds. Just few more meters, he thought and focused on the task, knowing well that time was a precious commodity now.
Time was slipping by. Some moments felt like he was under water, everything was moving slowly and his brain was having a hard time catching up. Thinking hurt, amidst all the other pains and aches. But there were also moments that rushed by inexplicably fast. Like Ethan.
One second he was there, right by Connor's side, his hand gripping Connor's wrist. The next moment he was dangling up above on some flimsy looking construction, getting farther and farther away.
Connor frowned and felt his breathing sped up. Was Ethan leaving him behind? But how?
Somehow, he didn't seem to register the man that was now squatting next to him, Connor's sole focus on his vanishing friend.
He must've let out a sound of protest or maybe he made a move to follow.
Connor wasn't sure. But he felt a hand lay on top of the blanket, right over his chest. Giving him the smallest of pressure, because really, there was hardly a need for even that. Connor couldn't have moved if he wanted to, he was too entangled in the blanket and his body hurt too much.
"Stay still, Connor. It's alright. We will get you up soon enough," the man reassured him and Connor broke his gaze away from Ethan's form. Who the hell-
"I'm Mike," the man said with understanding. "I'm from mountain rescue."
"Oh. Right," Connor muttered, somehow embarrassed. He licked at his lips, taking in the moisture from the rain. He was thirsty, but at the same time felt like he was being water boarded, what with the constant rain. While he wished for a warm shower he also never wanted to get wet again. Well, definitely not while laying prostrate on a bloody ledge, while his arm felt like it was caught in a vice, being slowly squeezed.
Time. What was the time?
Connor wanted to look at his watch, but that was on his right wrist, which was basically stuck between him and the rock. He could try to extricate it, but he wasn't sure the watch even survived the fall. Never mind the fact Connor had any idea what was the time when he fell down.
His musings, which were just throwing him deeper into confusion, were interrupted by a bright flash and a loud crack.
Connor startled, jarring his whole body. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a low groan as pain shot through him. From his ankle to his head, until it all converged in his left arm. It felt as if there was an elephant standing on it... stamping its leg down repeatedly in rhythm with Connor's wildly beating heart.
"Easy there," Connor heard next to him and felt arms running over his already aching body, checking or perhaps just trying to keep him still, keep him from rolling down into the abyss below. He didn't care. All he cared about was getting the bloody tourniquet off his arm, bleeding be damned. Just a moment of respite was all he needed... surely, the bleeding must've stopped by now?
He tried to move his right arm, but it was impossible. The man... Mike... was leaning over him and the blanket, however flimsy it might've looked, held on against his struggles.
"Let me go!" Connor spat angrily, glaring at Mike. The man paused, raising a brow. Lifting his hands in the air.
"I am not holding you. But you better stop moving around, or we will both end up dead."
The words somehow penetrated through the fog of pain and Connor realized that in his struggle he managed to somehow move closer towards the edge, and that Mike had moved along with him.
There was a hard lump inside his throat and a shiver ran over his body.
"Alright?"
Connor gave a barely perceptible nod.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Mike shook his head.
"It's okay, I know this is scary and you are in pain. Just hang in there and we will get you somewhere warm and dry, with lots of painkillers. I promise."
"Sounds good," Connor croaked out. He glanced up above and frowned.
Was Ethan moving at all?
"Ethan?" he asked then realized the man couldn't possibly hear him with the rain. Connor cleared his throat. Perhaps if he called out louder...
Mike gave him a reassuring pat that also served as a reminder he should probably stay quiet.
"Relax," the man said then carefully stood up. Connor wanted to shout at him to stop, because he was awfully close to the edge and obviously there was no harness keeping him safe now, but Mike looked steady on his feet, as if he was born climbing rocks.
"Ethan? You alright there buddy?" Mike called out, much louder than Connor could have in his state. Surely, Ethan must've heard him, even through the rain and wind...
But the man didn't move. He clung to the rock, as if frozen in place. Unmoving.
"What's wrong?" Connor asked, worry mixing with frustration. Ethan was supposed to be alright, he was supposed to be the one who had things under control. If something happened to him now...
Connor wasn't sure if he felt more guilty, about being the reason why Ethan was there in the first place or feeling afraid, because every second Ethan spent frozen there meant a second longer that blood was being kept from his arm. More time for the tissue to die and for Connor to lose his limb or its function, ending his career.
It was a selfish thought but Connor couldn't help it.
He wanted to climb up that bloody rock, just so he could grab Ethan and shake him, yell at him to get moving, to stop losing time!
Of course it was all just in his mind, because Connor couldn't even find the energy to sit up. The urge to scream was growing.
Mike called out to Ethan few more times then turned back down towards his radio.
Connor didn't really understand what was being said, but a moment later he saw Ethan's body move. At first it looked just like a twitch, like someone getting startled. Then the tug became clear and suddenly Ethan's whole posture changed. That strange tension was gone, replaced by a flurry of movement as if he was woken up from a dream and realized he was still in a nightmare. At least that's what it looked like to Connor, but he might've just imagined that. He watched as Ethan's feet struggled to find purchase, for a second flailing in the air. Connor expected Ethan to plummet down, right on top of them, but he stayed hanging in the same position, only for the movement to resume as he was slowly being hauled back up.
Connor watched, fascinated by the motion. He blinked and suddenly Ethan was gone.
"What-" he asked, but spotted movement of arms and legs just over the top.
"He made it," Mike commented with a grin. "Now let's see if we can do it in better time, what do you say?" Mike squatted back down next to Connor, eyes roaming over his body as if making a mental check of how to proceed next.
Connor focused on the word that made his stomach roll.
"Time."
"What?" Mike frowned, looking at him.
"What... how long?"
"Not long, don't worry. They should send down the basket in a minute, then-"
Connor shook his head, ignoring the scowl he got for that, or the sharp spike of pain in his temple.
"How long... the tourniquet?"
Mike's eyes eased up. He understood the question. But he didn't seem keen on the answer.
"Don't worry about that. We will get you up quickly then the doc can patch you up."
Connor wanted to growl. That was hardly an answer.
"My hand... I need it," he insisted and Mike nodded.
"Most folks do," he agreed and Connor twitched. It sounded like a reprimand, even though the tone was understanding. Connor felt the need to explain.
"I mean... I need it. For work. I am a surgeon-" his voice choked. He wanted to plead his case but even to him those words sounded arrogant. Self centered somehow and the guilt came crashing, making his chest feel tighter than ever.
"Hey, I understand. Believe me, I do," Mike said and there was no judgment in his tone, not even a hint. Connor wasn't sure the man meant to be cruel with his earlier statement after all. Maybe he was just being blunt.
"I promise we will do our best to get you out of here as fast as possible. The best thing you can do is stop worrying about that arm and just work with me. Trust me. Worrying never helped a thing."
Logically, Connor knew that. Hell, he would be the first to tell his patient not to worry, that they would be well taken care of. But it was much more different, being on the other end. Being the one hurt and vulnerable, unable to help himself.
Connor really didn't relish that feeling or everything that came with it.
And despite the words, the worry stayed, gnawing at his stomach along with all the other aches.
"Here it comes," Mike's voice brought his attention back upwards and he saw a long metal thing slowly descending towards them. It was dangling in the air and just like with Ethan, Connor half expected it to drop, but it didn't.
The wires the basket was attached to held firm as Mike grabbed the basket while at the same time talking on his radio. Telling whoever was up to lower it about half a meter then stop.
Connor eyed the contraption with growing apprehension.
He had seen it before, as he got the chance to join several rescue missions during his time in Mexico where he studied, but he never had the pleasure of taking a ride in one. Or rather displeasure, as he knew that getting into that thing would be anything but pleasant.
"How..." he asked, his voice trembling slightly. Mike put the basket down, turning it partially on its side so that the railing was flush with Connor's left side.
"I won't lie, Connor. This will hurt. But I need you to help me out and do exactly as I say, alright?"
Connor swallowed the lump in his throat and gave a small nod.
Mike offered a smile.
"We will do this as quickly as possible. Don't worry. It will be over before you know it."
Connor really hoped that those words were true.
And in a way, perhaps they were.
Connor just wished he didn't have to be aware for most of it.
First thing Mike did was grab something from the pouch on the side of the basket. Connor quickly found out it was a neck brace. He didn't fancy the feeling of it on his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously, but knew it was for the best. If only it didn't make him so claustrophobic.
Securing the neck brace, Mike explained how he would push the edge of the basket under Connor's left side, while he would try and turn Connor towards his right. Not all the way, just enough to get the space needed.
Of course moving anything caused pain.
Connor tried to be strong and stay silent, to bite down the grunts of pain as his whole body felt like being trampled then put back by an angry elephant. He felt the metal basket slide under his back, while Mike did his best to support his body so that it didn't move more than necessary.
Connor had to close his eyes, as the movement made his vision swim and suddenly he had to fight down the nausea.
Cursing and trying to breathe through it, it took a second for Connor's brain to catch up as he was carefully lowered into the basket.
The movement itself was lost in the flood of pain from his ankle and arm and for a second, Connor forgot to breathe.
All he knew was the white flash of pain and the only thought in his mind was that he must've been hit by lightning.
"Connor? Come on, breathe," a voice broke through after what felt like eternity. There was a hand laid on his chest, rubbing against his sternum painfully.
Connor whimpered and tried to move away, but found that he couldn't.
Confused and frightened, he opened his eyes, looking around wildly.
"Easy, that's it," came the soothing voice. "Just breathe and relax. The worst part is over," the voice said and Connor focused on the face leaning over him.
"Mike," he muttered, somehow disappointed it wasn't Ethan. Or even better, some nice nurse in the hospital.
"That's me. Nice to know you remember my name," Mike had the nerve to give him a cheeky smile. Connor let out a groan.
"We still here?" He didn't even try to conceal his desperation. He shuddered, despite the blanket Ethan provided still wrapped tightly around him, while Mike was securing the straps.
"You tuned out only for a minute or two," Mike informed him.
"Felt like ages," Connor grumbled, then quickly amended himself as the basket was secured back onto the wire. "Not long enough."
Mike chuckled, shaking his head.
"Why is it that no one wants to keep me company?"
"Your charming... personality?" Connor guessed with a lopsided grin. Mike gave a hearty laugh then his face turned serious.
"Alright. Ready for what comes next?"
Connor gulped.
"W-what should I do?"
"Ah, now that's the best part. Absolutely nothing. Though I do advise you to stay still and perhaps close your eyes... unless you want to enjoy the view."
Connor most assuredly didn't want to. And once the basket started moving, its motion jerky despite Mike's best attempts to keep it as stable as possible, all Connor could focus on was to try and keep his stomach in check. Eyes shut tight, jaw clenched and head throbbing, Connor counted the seconds and minutes, half praying for the lightning to strike him just to end his misery. When the basket lurched in a sudden gust of wind and smashed against the wall with enough force to rock his body, Connor's brain finally got the signal to shut down and darkness took over.