For the dummy trail they chose the arm of Storkittel that stretched down the left-hand side of the sheer drop. They walked casually down the slope for about a hundred metres or so, stomping heavily and carelessly kicking the turf. That should do it, Beck reckoned.
“Won’t she notice that our signs just vanished?” Jonas asked when they stopped.
“Well, it’s not like we’re leaving footprints like on the snow.” Beck looked up the way they had come. “When you’re tracking, you don’t get a constant trail. You just get a series of clues, one by one, and sometimes with a big gap between them. She’ll have enough of a trail to set her off coming down this way and she’ll think we must have carried on.”
I hope. He was aware this was all assuming they could trick a person who so far had proved fast, accurate and deadly. Beck was feeling less and less certain of the risk to reward ration of what they were about to do.
But even if she didn’t fall for it completely, they would have bought themselves some more time. She would come this way, and almost certainly go further on down before finally working out that she had been deceived. Then she would have to go back up, and around. And all the while, the two friends would be getting further and further ahead.
“So,” he said, “let’s do it.” He walked to the edge of the drop and looked across. They were just at the point where the drop changed from incredibly steep, to sheer. If they had gone any further down then they would need proper mountaineering equipment to get across. But here, they could do it with what they had. There were ridges and bumps that should hold their feet and hands, and make it possible to get over.
He started to pull his rope off from round his chest and shoulder.
“I’ll go first,” Jonas said unexpectedly. Beck looked at him in surprise and he shrugged. “It will be just as difficult for both of us.”
“You’re okay with the height?”
“No,” Jonas said frankly. “But I’ll be staring at the rock in front of me. It can’t be that different to when we climbed across that snow slope. It’s just higher.”
Beck could see how he had set his jaw, and he could hear the not-quite-tremble in his friend’s voice. But Jonas had a point — ultimately it didn’t make a difference which of them went first.
“Good work, Jonas,” he said.
He took one end of the rope around Jonas’s waist, tying it again in a tight bowline, then wrapped the other around a boulder in the ground. The boulder would take Jonas’s weight if he slipped, while Beck paid the line out.
Jonas moved slowly to the edge, and looked down the drop. And looked some more. And more. Beck began to wonder if maybe he should go first after all…
But then Jonas stretched a boot out onto the nearest ridge, and transferred his weight, and moved over so that there was nothing but thin air below him. Beck quickly paid out some rope so that it wouldn’t suddenly grow taut and yank his friend off the wall. He kept quiet — no distracting shouts of encouragement or advice.
Jonas moved again, sidling a little to his left, and again, every step well-thought-about, remembering Beck’s advice back at the ice slope to move only one point of contact — a foot or a hand — at a time. Suddenly his leg started to shudder and he had to stand still, breathing deeply, until the spasms passed and he got it under control again.
“Got it?” Beck called.
“Got it…”
Then suddenly Jonas’s foot slipped. A football-sized chunk of mountainside tumbled away and Jonas fell half a metre. One leg dangled over the drop, the other, firmly planted on an extension of rock, was bent at the knee as far as it would go. Both arms were stretched out above him as he kept his grip on his handholds.
Then, slowly, Jonas pulled himself up again, all his weight going on the one trembling leg until he had his other foot up and could find another hold. He didn’t look down or back. Without a word, he kept going.
Beck barely breathed until Jonas was over on the other side. Jonas turned and flashed an enormous, surprised, relieved grin ever as he pulled in the remaining length of the rope until it went taut with Beck on the other end.
“Easiest thing ever,” he said, with a lightness that showed it had been the exact opposite. “Okay. You are good to climb when you are ready.”
“Sure.” Beck replied, as he tied his end around his waist. “Put your end around… uh…”
And then he saw the gaping flaw in the plan.