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I started laughing hysterically. I was so tired and hadn't slept well all week. My bones were weary, I was horrified, I was scared...
And now I was laughing.
Santiago laughed too. It was an easy sound, and I was so grateful that no one was around to hear our insanity. It continued for a few minutes, and we just let it be.
Then it faded, like the night, and I sobered.
"Thank you," I whispered to the man my best friend had fallen in love with, trying to convey my genuine gratitude. I looked up at the cliffside once more, trying to quell the panic that clawed at the edges of my consciousness.
"Ready?" Santiago asked, pulling a familiar-looking cord out of his pack.
"Hell no," I said, taking a deep breath as we approached the formidable ascent. We had a long climb ahead, and time was not on our side. The others were likely already awake and trekking over.
But if I won, I could change my life. Then I could think about everyone else.
"I'm going to check my gear one last time," Santiago said. "Once we start climbing, there's no turning back. I’ll get everything ready, but you will go first.”
That was something nice about Santiago—he wasn't controlling like Isaac—or Antonio at times.
“I’ll head up as soon as I strap myself in.”
I double-checked the carabiners attached to my harness, giving each one a sharp tug to ensure they were secured. My climbing boots were laced tight, my gloves intact. Everything seemed in order.
Santiago did the same, inspecting each part of his harness with a practiced eye. At last, he nodded, apparently satisfied. "You look like you know what you're doing, but I just wanted to remind you to keep three points of contact with the volcano at all times while we do this. We're going to be scaling for a while."
I hastily scanned the special cord of indestructible aramid fiber, noting that it had been stored irregularly. That caused me to remember Isaac had packed my gear yesterday.
The sound of Santiago latching onto the rock drew me out of the memory, and I followed his lead. With a deep breath, I launched the hook upward, aiming for the highest point of the uneven wall to provide a solid grip. The hook caught hold, and I tugged at it to ensure its stability. Satisfied, I slipped my feet into the footholds of the climbing harness and began my ascent.
The wall was practically vertical, and my heart pounded wildly as I fought against gravity. Each movement was deliberate, my muscles quivering with effort. The jagged rocks seemed eager to tear at my skin, but I refused to let them deter me. I focused on the rhythm of my breaths and the sound of Santiago's steady encouragement.
"Fluid movements," I muttered, thinking of Antonio and willing my body to obey. And then, almost imperceptibly, something within me shifted. My panic eased, replaced by a growing sense of confidence. I could do this.
Isaac wouldn’t own me.
Inhala.
Exhala.
"Ready to join me?" I called down to Santiago. My voice was more robust than before.
"Only if you don't tell Magda I was scared shitless," he grinned, attaching his hook to the cliffside and beginning his climb. His movements were graceful and fluid, belying the precarious nature of our ascent. With each successful step, my anxiety continued to recede, replaced by an ember of determination that burned brighter by the moment.
We ascended in tandem, the wind slicing through our hair as we climbed higher and higher. The view below us grew smaller with each passing moment, the sharp edges of reality blurring as though we were ascending into a dream. My heart pounded in my chest. The higher we went, the harsher the wind.
“We're about twelve meters up," Santiago called over. "Halfway there."
"Only halfway?" I muttered to myself. A gust of wind hit me like a rock, and I spun, slamming into the side of the wall.
Then, I heard a series of snapping sounds, like the breaking of fragile bones. My pulse quickened, my breath catching in my throat as my mind raced to identify the source of the noise.
"¡Cuidado!" Santiago called out, his voice tight with alarm. But it was too late. Desperate, I fumbled for the button that would lower me safely to the ground, but it refused to budge with my trembling fingers. Panic surged through me, hot and unyielding.
Realization dawning like a cruel sunrise. Isaac. He had been the last to touch my equipment. How could I have been so naïve? In my eagerness to prove myself, I had left myself vulnerable to his deception.
One of the cords had been cut. Antonio had said that was near impossible.
But there it was. Undeniable proof that our happiness would always be short-lived. I was meant to suffer, forced to fight for scraps of joy in a world determined to keep me from the people I loved.
