Hatch and MacIntosh
removed the thirty-two-foot aluminum collapsible Werner ladder. Hatch scanned the gap, looking for the closest point to them that would get them over to the landing zone.
"I’m gonna need you to go first," Hatch said to MacIntosh.
He exhaled slowly. "If I’m gonna be honest, crossing a bottomless pit on a rickety ladder in high winds is not on my bucket list."
"That makes two of us."
They located a spot on the edge of the divide where it narrowed to a gap of about twenty feet across. They extended the ladder the entire thirty-two feet, each of them holding one side to balance it against the wind. Hatch was grateful that the wind had subsided partially since last night.
Working in concert, they controlled the rate of the ladder's descent as they levered it across the chasm. They dropped it the last several feet. It clanged and bounced once. MacIntosh stepped on one of the rungs to stop it from moving.
"I'll hold it while you two cross," Hatch insisted.
"Why don't you go with him?" MacIntosh asked.
"Because you got him here. If it wasn't for you, he’d already be dead. Take him across the finish. I’ll be on this end to hold it. Just make sure you're on the other side to return the favor when it's my turn."
MacIntosh apparently wasn’t joking about the heights thing. Neither was Hatch. But just as her father had taught her those many years ago in the back mountains behind their house, fear is to be accepted. Fear is to be cherished. The greatest warriors recognize it in themselves, and therefore are able to recognize it in others and capitalize on it. The bravest people Hatch had ever met faced fear on a regular basis, something MacIntosh was demonstrating as he edged himself over the dark void.
He had worked the strap around his waist, giving him the easiest balance. He kept the rope at his center point as he shimmied his way on all fours, crawling ahead and dragging the unconscious Lawson behind him on the makeshift sled gurney across the gap.
Hatch guided the bottom of the gurney reaching out as far as she could while maintaining her weight on her end of the ladder to hold it in place. MacIntosh and Lawson were on their own now, moving across the middle.
A nasty gust of wind kicked up, throwing more dusty snow into the bright sky, casting glitter all around and causing it to slide. It edged to the right and Hatch fought to contain it on her end, but the combined weight of the two men along the span made it very tough. MacIntosh was only a few feet from getting himself across the newly formed gorge when the back end of Lawson's gurney fishtailed off the edge of the gurney.
Before the weight could teeter enough to drag MacIntosh and Lawson to their death, the former Marine and ex-con dove off the end of the ladder, pulling Lawson with him. He skidded to a stop on the other side. MacIntosh held a shaky thumbs up, accompanied by a forced smile.
"Easy as pie," he called across.
"I don’t know what kind of pie you eat." She saw it got a laugh. Hatch allowed herself one too. Laughter was always good for shaking off the nerves.
She got down on all fours just as MacIntosh had and began quickly crawling across, not wasting any time. There was a small lull in the wind, and she wanted to capitalize on it. MacIntosh held firm. She could see the tension in the grip, his knuckles white. He put all his weight down, holding the ladder in place.
Hatch was nearly to the other side when the wind picked up again. But it wasn’t the wind that sent a shiver down her spine. It was the low rumble she heard just behind it.