Extreme Sports
One by one, we raised our flashlight beams to the underside of the roof. It was dark. But even in the dim light, we could see that the darkness was moving. It undulated like "the wave" at a hockey game. The cockroaches protested our entry by releasing their hold on the ceiling and flying down at us.
"I'm outta here," Caleb said, heading for the doorway.
"Not so fast," I said, my fingers closing tightly on his collar. "Pull your hood up, Caleb, and get on that ladder. I'll go last."
I hoped that last sentence didn't sound too bitter. I also hoped that all the weights I'd been pumping would help me haul my nonworking leg up. I gripped the ladder beneath my three buddies and hung my cane on one of the lower rungs.
My breathing was heavy, my hands were sweaty. But with one pull after another, I kept climbing.
La peur d'être pris ajoute bien sûr à l'excitation. Si la rumeur de nos « sept coups » s'est répandue, la police de notre petite ville s'attend sans doute à ce que nous nous attaquions à la vieille tour sur la colline.
I staggered to my feet, tore off my helmet and looked down at the crumpled figure on the road. He wasn't moving.
I was sure I had killed him. The blood drained out of my head. I was afraid to approach him. I needed to get help. I took several deep breaths and found myself shaking. Hold it together, I told myself. Just hold it together.
Everything hinges on my next decision. Do I trust the bush with my weight? It feels secure from here, but I can't be sure it will hold me if I step off the ledge. I'm more than two stories up, above a solid stone floor. If I fall now, it's goodbye Byron.
