Down on the other side, Sasha had just started up a route, her friend Nicole holding the rope. She seemed to fly up the wall, her body moving in unbelievable ways, stretching out so that she was almost sideways on the rock then shifting to bring herself upright. Beside her, Gabe Rossiter was hanging bare-chested and almost upside down on an overhang on what was clearly the toughest route. He reached for another handhold, his fellow Team members shouting encouragement. Chaska was also climbing without a shirt. He lunged upward, caught a hold, the muscles of his arms and back straining as they bore the entire weight of his body.
“Way to dyno, Belcourt!” someone shouted.
A woman with a long, dark ponytail—Kenzie, the dog trainer—sat down beside her with the guy who’d climbed Everest—Vic thought his name was Harrison—the two of them talking about someone.
“Megs said he did everything he could to save that little girl. He jumped into the water without a harness to get to her, but the current was just too strong and washed her away. He got washed downstream, too, but managed to self-rescue. Megs said he ran down the road, trying to catch up with the girl, but just couldn’t reach her. He basically watched her drown.”
A lump formed in Vic’s throat.
So that’s what had happened to Jesse.
How unspeakably horrible.
A family had lost a child, and Jesse was torn apart.
“He’s lucky to be alive,” Harrison said. “Did they get the rest of the family out?”
Kenzie nodded. “Megs said he’s blaming himself for not being fast enough. She’s sidelined him. Until he gets counseling, she won’t let him go on more calls.”
“I bet this has dredged up a bunch of shit from his time in Iraq,” Harrison said. “He watched a lot of men die over there.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Across the room, Gabe reached the top of his route to cheers and was slowly lowered to the ground. A moment later, Sasha did the same.
She threw her fist in the air. “Climb like a girl!”
Vic watched while Jesse untied the rope from his harness, saw that he was furious with himself for falling.
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Eric said. “We all have off days—everyone except Rossiter, but he’s not actually human.”
“I heard that.” Gabe showed Eric his middle finger.
And it dawned on Vic that every Team member here had risked his or her life trying to save others, and they did it asvolunteers. Lexi had told her no one got paid to work for the Team, not even Megs.
A sense of emptiness crept into Vic’s chest.
She’d never done anything to make a difference. She spent her days coming up with witty slogans so that companies could sell goods and services. She could argue that this helped businesses succeed and that that, in turn, meant jobs, but that wasn’t the same thing as saving someone’s child. It wasn’t even close.
Eric walked over to her. “Are you sure you want to sit this out?”
Lexi was right behind him, out of breath, her face flushed from exertion. “You’ve got some of the best teachers in the country right here. Sasha and Eric got me started.”
“Is my girl Vic going up?” Sasha called. “Count me in!”
Eric pinned her with his gaze and held out his hand. “Do you trust me, Victoria? Climbing is about two things: skill and trust. Skill can be taught, but you’ve got to have trust to get anywhere. I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Chapter 11
Vic gotto her feet and took Eric’s hand. “If I die...”
Eric grinned. “You won’t die. You’re going to have fun and go home amazed at how well you did.”
Eric led her over to a part of the wall where no one was climbing. “We’ll start with something super easy, and I’ll go up with you.”
While Lexi ran to get Vic a harness and a pair of climbing shoes, Eric and the others planned it out among themselves. Lexi would belay Vic while Austin belayed Eric. Sasha wanted in on it, so she drafted Rossiter to belay her.
Vic stepped into the harness, watching while Lexi showed her how to tighten it and make sure it was safe. Then Eric tied her into one end of the rope, and the next thing Vic knew, she was standing at the base of the rock wall, looking up at a bunch of brightly colored holds. “Oh, God.”