A/N: In regards to Stella's accent in previous chapters, I have cousins in the Pittsburg area of Pennsylvania, and a lot of people there have accents similar to that. I was, of course, exaggerating the dialect so it would be more noticeable in print. No offense meant to any Pennsylvania natives. Sorry this one's kind of short.
Chapter Three
Johnny and Stella made it through the next set of whitewater without incident, and stopped another mile downstream and pulled it ashore to the rock formation they intended to climb. It was a cliff face about thirty feet high, formed like many sheets of rock piled one on top of the other, overlapping one another, and jutting out furthest at the very top. There were already two sets of ropes hanging down, secured at the peak.
"Isn't it great," Stella began. "Over hundreds of thousands of years the river carved this formation out of the rock." She gave one of the secured lines a hard tug. "My brother and I climbed it yesterday, so we're top roping." She produced the proper gear from her wet bag and they secured their harnesses to the ropes hanging from the cliff and to one another. The stone was cool and moist from the shade of the trees and the slight spray of water near the bottom of the small formation, but got dry and warmer where the sun peered through the vegetation and hit the rock. It didn't seem very difficult; there were plenty of ledges and handles. He might have even tried soloing it, but for today he would do it Stella's way.
She would climb, and secure him, and he would climb a little further and let her follow. Belaying. They were still getting used to each other and so the process required a lot of verbal signals from one another. They were about halfway up the cliff face, and Johnny was having a hard time finding a handle.
"Use your legs," Stella offered from a few feet above. "Push yourself up and I'll pull." He tried and lost his footing, and swung down in an arch.
"Falling!" He alerted her to his freefall unnecessarily, as Stella quickly secured him, and he found his footing on a ledge about five feet from the ground. "Are you alright?" She asked, looking down at him.
"Yea I'm good," he assured her, looking up. That's when it happened. A bazaar twist of fate that changed their lives forever. The handle Stella had a grip on gave way and she fell; fifteen feet to hit the ground on her side. "Shit!" Johnny swore loudly, "Stella, are you okay?" No answer, she was unconscious. "Stella! Crap," he started, jumping down from the ledge.
That was when a large plate of rock hanging over them groaned and began to fall. Johnny saw it and rushed to throw himself over Stella as the boulder fell. In an instant they were both domed in flame. Flames hot enough to melt stone, protecting them both. When the danger had past the flames died and molten rock cooled around them.
"Stella! Come on Stella." Johnny urged touching her face, checking her for visible injuries. Both their clothes were a little singed, her face was flushed, and her arm was twisted at an odd angle, probably broken by her fall. "Damn it," he spat. He didn't want to move her. Johnny gingerly pressed a finger to her neck. He could feel her pulse fast and strong, she was alive. He hurried over to where the backpack was set and searched the pockets until he found a cell phone.
He went to dial 911, but then thought again. He punched in the digits, and waited anxiously for some one to pick up.
"Come on, come on," he hissed, pacing back and forth by where Stella was lying.
"Hello," A voice came from the other end of the line. Thank God!
"Hey Sis," Johnny began carefully. "We've got a problem."
A/N: I promise the next will be longer, and not only am I leaving you with a cliffhanger, but I'm asking for at least 4 reviews before the next chapter. I've already got it written so as soon as I get my reviews I'll post it. I know, I know, I'm a slave tofeedback.