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I take a deep breath, more determined to reach the window.
I reach up faster this time than the last.
“Take your time; there’s no rush.”
I purse my lips and breathe out as I reach another handhold and then foothold. I hoist myself up.
I can hear Langston let out an audible breath when I pull myself up now at least twenty feet up in the air, but a good five to ten feet away from the top.
I can do this. I can reach the top.
I start to reach up, trying to find a handhold big enough that I can cling to. After testing a couple of spots, I can’t find one big enough to get a grip.
“Try an inch higher if you can.”
I reach higher, but the one Langston suggested is just as small as the rest.
“Climb back down and we can think of a new plan. Those holds are too small.”
I hear Langston’s voice, but I refuse to believe it. There isn’t another way out. This is the only way. And we have to get out, for Langston’s kids’ sakes.
I refuse to give up so quickly. I reach up, take a deep breath, and pull myself up.
Somehow, I’m still holding onto the wall, but as I reach up again, I can cling onto the wall no longer. I’m going to fall.
No, I’m falling.
My nails try to dig into the wall as my body drops down, but it’s no use. For a second before I hit the ground, it’s freeing. Maybe this is how I’ll die, trying to save a man whom I care about more than I’ll ever admit out loud? I’ll die fast and swift. That’s too much to hope for. More than likely, I’ll break a leg, an arm, a rib.
I close my eyes, relenting myself to my fate.
Suddenly I hit a soft lump instead of the stone floor.
“Oof,” Langston says as I land on top of him.
I blink rapidly, not believing I’m still alive, let alone uninjured after that fall.
Then I look down at Langston beneath me. “Langston!” I shout as I roll off of him.
His eyes are closed as he lies on his back. I hold my hand over his chest. It rises and falls—he’s still breathing.
“Langston Pearce, wake up right now!” I yell at him; my voice erratic and terrified.
I try to check him over without moving him, but I suspect he has a head injury, and I need to stop any bleeding on the back of his head.
I yank my dress off and slither it under his head to stop any bleeding and provide some support.
“Langston, wake up!”
An eye opens, and he moans.
“Shh, don’t move.” I sit back on my heels, a little more relaxed now that I know he’s conscious.
He grins at me so large that I can see a dimple. “I’m fine, huntress.”
He moves to sit up, but his eyes roll, obviously dizzy.
I grab onto his arm, slowing his movement. “Easy. You hit your head.”
