Chapter 8
Saturday
Greg settled the pack onto his back so that the wire hangers wouldn't dig into his body and headed out into the early morning mist toward the Embassy. He'd filled the canteens and made sure to leave a note for his mom before leaving the house. The MPs waved him through the gate, no doubt wondering what sort of mischief Lt. House's son was off to get himself into.
Greg rode through the quiet streets of the prefecture, glad to have that time in the near silence before the district came to life. He pulled up in front of the Embassy, where Declan was waiting for him, and the two of them set off toward the nearby mountains.
The boys reached the main trailhead marker an hour later and found an unobtrusive place in the brush to leave their bikes. They did a final check of their gear and started up the trail. The trail wasn't very steep, and the mountain itself wasn't much more than a large hill with a nearly sheer cliff on one side, but it still took a few hours to get to the base of the rock face they'd chosen to climb.
The well-marked trail was full of twists and turns as the boys hiked. Their excited conversation in the early stages of the hike drifted away into nothing as the trail became steeper and required more of their concentration. They stopped for a water break, to give their backs and legs a reprieve, and munched on peanut butter sandwiches as they relaxed.
Reenergized and back on the trail, Greg and Declan made their way closer to the base of the mountain. The trail had gone from smoothly graded at the trailhead to the rocky and woven narrow path with exposed tree roots that they were currently on. The going was slower as they chose their footsteps more carefully; neither boy wanted to twist an ankle and be forced to abandon the climb.
The mist had burned off and the day had turned sunny and warm by the time they reached the base of the cliff. The boys dropped their packs and began to pull out gear. In addition to the ropes, Declan had brought several carabiners and some climbing chalk; everything else in the boxes of old climbing equipment had looked way too technical for what he and Greg were going to be doing.
Greg took out a couple of comrats, the first aid kits and his folding knife and stuffed them into the cargo pockets of the old olive green utility pants that his dad had long outgrown. He used a couple of the carabiners to hang canteens from the equipment belt at his waist. They left their packs at the bottom of the cliff and started climbing. Declan had one of the ropes slung across his body, the rest of the carabiners clipped to the belt loops on his jeans. They took their time going up, stopping to rest whenever they reached a ledge large enough for both of them. The rock was more complex than it looked from the base - smooth with solid hand- and footholds in some places, crumbly in others, and still others were slick with damp moss from the overnight dew.
It was slow going, but Declan and Greg finally pulled themselves up over the summit and collapsed in a heap of labored breathing, sweat, rock fragments, dust and climbing chalk. They drained their canteens and ate the comrats while taking in the view. The prefecture spread out beneath them, and they could see everything clear out to the Air Station located on the edge of the Seto Inland Sea.
Eventually they decided it was time to head back down so as not to get caught on the rock face when it was dark. Declan anchored the rope around a tree in such a way that one of them would be able to make the descent and then support the weight of the other as he came down. The plan then was that once they were both at the bottom they'd just pull the rope through, leaving only the carabiner behind.
Declan started down first, with the rope looped around his waist through another carabiner and Greg keeping the line loose enough so that if Declan fell he would only fall a few feet at best. Things went smoothly until Declan was about 20 feet from the base. He had been concentrating on placing his hands and feet on the way down that he never noticed that the knot keeping the rope around his waist had loosened. It came undone at the same time he lost his footing against the rock and he fell, a ledge only stopping his fall for the briefest of moments. Greg watched in shock as his friend landed hard at the base of the rock face, the back of his skull nearly slamming into a boulder as he came to a stop. He only knew that Declan was still alive by the sounds of moaning that carried up from the ground.