“Okay.” His eyes looked large in the gloom.
“I’ll have my rope around you, and when you get there, take a look at his back. Cut off the shirt with this,?
?? Hunter handed him her folding Gerber pocket knife. “Then you can let me know how it looks, and whether we can get him off it.”
Adan nodded. Hunter fixed the rope around him using three bowlines to make a seat, and when he said it was adjusted so it felt good, she said, “You may have to lower down the side a bit, then use the sides of this hole to run around the inside to reach him.”
“OK,” he wasn’t sure he could do it, but as Hunter lowered him down to the correct height, he felt better about it. “I’m ready.”
She anchored the rope and watched as Adan moved like a pendulum, starting slow with one step, then back, then three steps and back, closer and closer. Five minutes and three missed attempts left him breathing hard.
Dario said, “Please…”
Adan felt a charge of energy at his friend’s voice and pushed off again, using his toes to dig into the rock side. The rope
helped him stay against the wall with centrifugal force as he moved faster, almost sprinting, until he reached his friend and grasped him around the waist. Dario grunted, and sweat popped out on his forehead.
Adan positioned himself slightly above his friend, with one foot on the edge of a rung, and the tension of Hunter pulling on the rope to hold him in place. Adan slipped the knife blade under Dario’s shirt and cut down his back, opening it so he could see the actual wound.
A long, bloody scrape began low on his back an inch away from the spine and went up, becoming bloodier as it plowed an ever-deeper red furrow until the skin was punctured by the iron and formed a wrinkled fold around the black, crusted opening where the iron disappeared into his flesh.
Adan breathed hard at the sight, but he moved the shirt to see where the iron exited Dario’s back. The tip showed about three inches higher up, beside Dario’s shoulder blade, between it and his spine. He called to Hunter, holding his fingers up to show how much flesh was over the iron point. “About three inches, looks like.”
Hunter said “Is it skin, or something else?”
“Like bone?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“No, only skin. It shows the iron underneath, like it is folded around it.”
“Can you cut him loose?”
“I can try, but I don’t know. Maybe I can pull him off.”
Hunter thought, “Tie Dario off with the other rope, under his arms if you can.”
Adan folded the knife, put it in his pocket, then tied the second rope around Dario, snugging it tight.
Hunter said to Dario, “This might hurt, but we need to free you.”
“Do it.”
Adan positioned himself and pulled up on Dario. The boy hissed, and a trickle of blood ran from the wound, down his back, staining the belt line of his pants. Adan tried again, stronger this time, but he was pinned with the iron like a nail was holding him. Adan strained until red dots and purple lines showed in his vision, but it was no use.
Dario bled steadily now, and his head hung limp. “Dario?” Adan said. There was no answer. Anxiety made his voice break. “Hunter, he’s passed out, and he’s not breathing very well.”
“Can you cut along the skin over the iron? You need to do it to free him. Cut a single line down it from where it goes in to where it exits.”
“Okay.”
“And hold him if you can, because he will fall when you do.”
“The rope is on him.”
“I know, and I’ll hold tight, so with both of us it should be fine.”
Adan took a deep breath, pulled the knife from his pocket and opened it, then put the blade tip at the top where the iron exited. He sliced down with one strong movement.