“FIRST OF ALL, NOBODY’S GETTING BUSTED,” Amber tells them all. “Christian and I have discussed what happened just now, and we’re in agreement.”
All eyes turn to Christian, who stands at the edge of the huddle and doesn’t exactly look like he’s in agreement with anything, but from Amber’s tone of voice, it’s clear there will be no negotiations.
“We’re all tired,” Amber continues. “We’ve got a big mountain to climb, literal and metaphorical, and I know that it’s stressing us all out.”
Kyla isn’t looking at Christian. She’s not looking at Christian in the way you don’t look at someone when you want them to know they are the only fucking thing on your mind.
She’s not looking at him, but she knows he’s there. She’s staring up at the mountain, her jaw set and her eyes clear, the tears on her cheeks wiped away, gone.
She looks tough and defiant. She’s not looking at Christian, and it’s a good thing, too, because if she were, he would probably burst into flames.
“Let’s get through today,” Amber is saying. “Together, as a Pack. Let’s lean on our individual strengths and use them to help the team, and let’s climb that mountain and get the hell out of here, and I promise Christian and I will pull some strings and we’ll all have a nice meal and maybe a night indoors for once when we get back to headquarters.”
Christian gives her a look, sharp. Amber cuts him down with one glance.
As for the rest of the Pack, shit, most of what Amber just said is psychological mumbo-jumbo, but getting to sleep inside doesn’t exactly sound bad.
“What do you say, Pack?” Amber asks them. “Can we do this?”
There are halfhearted shrugs and maybe a couple of nods. Amber gives them a wry grin.
“I guess it’s too much to ask for a cheer, huh?”
It’s too much to ask.
“Well, all right, then,” she says. “Let’s send this bitch.”
There are two routes to the top of the Raven’s Claw that don’t require harnesses and rope and other climbing gear.
“We’re taking the scenic option,” Christian announces, pointing to a ridgeline that runs left from the summit, an undulating spine to the top of the mountain.
“Are you sure?” Amber says, scratching her head. “We’ve never done it that way before. You don’t think we should just stick to the tried and true?”
Christian shakes his head. You can tell he’s just about taken his quota of L’s for the day, and he’s not about to give in easy.
“I was looking in the guidebook,” he says. “The spine is supposed to be the same level of difficulty as the standard route. Anyway, it’s like three hundred meters longer.”
He looks around. “Longer means not as steep,” he tells the Pack. “The other option is we go straight up the gut.” He points to the right of the summit, where a series of rockslides has formed what looks like a sheer, slippery path to the summit.
“You said it yourself, we’re all tired,” Christian tells Amber. “We take the scenic route, we won’t work as hard. Make the summit and get down fast before the weather kicks in.”
Amber studies the mountain, her hands on her hips. You can tell she’s not really into calling an audible at this stage of the game, but at the same time she’s got to be aware she has totally undermined Christian’s authority once already this morning—and the day is young—and she’s got to at least try to present a united front of authority.
So Amber doesn’t say anything.
“What do you guys think?” Christian asks the Pack. “You want to bust your asses up the gut? Or take it easy on the spine?”
There’s a pause and a general murmur of not-wanting-to-answer and definitely-not-wanting-to-be-seen-agreeing-with-Christian, but mostly just shrugs and the occasional nod.
It’s all Christian needs.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, turning left toward the spine. “Let’s go.”
This will turn out to be a BAD IDEA.