Roger couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Right in the middle of the tunnel, he saw their flag sitting below the hole in the ceiling. It was the flag they had dropped when they went up to the hangman’s room. It felt like he was waking up from a bad dream. Roger raised his finger to point to the flag and he shook his head with disbelief. The rope was gone. It had disappeared from his hand without him noticing.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Florida’s grin was infectious. She nodded and sped up.
He caught up with her as she stood below the vertical shaft. She was looking up towards the hangman’s room. Roger slowed. Even with his light on he could see the yellow glow coming from up there. He felt a dull ache in his stomach. That glow seemed sick, like the light itself might be contagious. He wondered what the glow of uranium looked like. He wondered if he was seeing it now.
“Give me a boost?” she asked.
“I don’t think we should go up there,” Roger said. “I don’t like the looks of it.”
“The rest of this place is just a maze,” she said. “There’s no way in or out. If we don’t go up there we’re just going to wander around here forever.”
“But we’ve been up there,” he said. “We saw the paws sticking out from the walls. We saw the noose and felt the wind. Why would we go back up there?”
“Somehow that’s the way that leads out. Our flag is here, see?”
“That’s the one I dropped because our first one was missing,” he said. “Remember? I dropped another one while you tried the radio.”
“I don’t remember that,” she said. “We put down a flag, went up the shaft, and it was gone when we came back down.”
“Right,” Roger said. “So I dropped a second one. I know because I moved it out of the way so it wouldn’t be visible from the shaft. I didn’t want anything to follow us.”
“Whatever,” she said. She pointed. “
That’s
the way out. Now give me a boost.”
“This is a lousy idea,” Roger said.
-o-o-o-o-o-
The ache in his stomach grew as he climbed. The breeze wasn’t as strong as before, but it was still there. He could see the hangman’s noose swaying every time he glanced up. It looked like it was waiting for them.
Florida was scanning her light across the walls when he finally pushed himself up through the hole in the floor. He sat there for a second with his legs dangling—unwilling to commit to the room. He imagined hands reaching up from below and dragging him back down the shaft. That thought was enough to make him pull up his legs.
“Where did we chip away the wall?” Florida asked.
Roger spun slowly, scanning with his headlamp. The walls were all undisturbed.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
Florida shrugged off her bag from one shoulder and dug through it. She pulled out her rope. After playing out a length, she wound the rest into a ball and knotted it. She backed towards the wall of the chamber and tossed the ball of rope underhanded, while holding onto the loose end. It took a few tries. The ball arced through the noose. Florida walked the loose end to the center of the room and stood on her tiptoes to release the ball. She made a knot in the rope so she had a loop connected to the hangman’s noose. She tugged on it and tested her weight.
“What are you doing?” Roger asked.
“I’m going to climb.”
“Why?”
“I think it’s the way out. Don’t you understand?”
“No,” he said. “One thing I can say for sure—we didn’t come down through that hole. Why would you possibly think that the way out is through that hole?”
“Well, for one, there’s a light up there. It could be sunlight. Also, that’s the only direction we haven’t tried. It could be as simple as climbing up there and then we’re out.”
“I don’t think I can climb a rope like that,” Roger said.
“You only have to get as high as that shaft and then you can use the walls,” Florida said. “Hold this.” She handed him the ends of the loop. “I don’t know how it’s attached up there, so hold this tight. I’m going to test it.”
Roger took up the slack while Florida grabbed the rope at shoulder-height. She jumped and tucked her legs, jerking the rope. It held steady. She gave him a nod and then began climbing. Florida moved very fast at first, pulling with one arm to reach a higher grip with the other hand. Her strength faded fast and she locked the rope with her feet so she could push with her legs. Roger held the sides of the loop together so she wouldn’t be working one side against the other. As her feet passed the height of his head, Florida began to grunt. She had looked like a gymnast at first. Now she looked like a tired kid trying to win a schoolyard dare.
She paused when her hands got to the hangman’s noose.
“Don’t stop!” Roger shouted. Stopping was the predecessor to giving up.
With another burst of speed, Florida grabbed the old rope and inched her way up. Roger’s loop went slack as she transferred her weight to the rope. She slipped her foot into the noose and stood. It tightened on her foot but stopped constricting before it really latched onto her.
“What do you see?”
“Same as down there,” she said. “The shaft goes up for a while. This rope is warm.”
“Warm?”
Florida adjusted her grip and she started to spin with the rope. Roger took up the slack, but it didn’t stop her. She put out a hand to touch the wall and stopped herself.
“The shaft is warm too,” she said. Florida reached over her shoulder and withdrew a short section of rope. She tied a loop into the end and then a fancy knot around the hangman’s rope. When she was done, she slid the thing down as far as it would go.
“What are you doing?” Roger asked.
“I’ll yell down when I’m ready. See if you can get up to the noose once I’m off the rope,” she said.
Florida slipped her foot into the little loop she had made. She lifted her knee to her chest, dragging the slipknot up the hangman’s noose. She tested her weight on the foot carefully and then used the leg to lift herself up. It held. She had made a knot that slipped up the rope but gripped when she put her weight on it. It was ingenious. The only thing that would have made it better is if she had shown Roger how to do it before she left. He stood there with the loop of rope and looked up at his predicament.
The noose wasn’t actually that high. If there hadn’t been a hole in the middle of the floor, with a shaft leading back down to the mine proper, he might have tried leaping for it. Then again, his vertical leap was never that good even when he had been a much younger gentleman. He took the two ends of the rope and began fiddling with an idea. Florida was making good progress. He had to lean under the shaft to see her climbing. It looked like she was propping herself against the walls to hold herself up. She was certainly industrious.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Roger had a plan. He was only a foot off the floor, but he thought it would work. One end of the rope was looped over his shoulder. The other was tied in his best idea of how a slipknot would work. At first, the end kept coming loose, but he finally figured out that a knot in the loose end of the rope would keep it in place. He put one rope in the crook of his elbow for balance and pulled on the one draped over his shoulder.
His foot had no other choice—it had to elevate. Roger pulled until his leg was bent at a right angle. Now the hard part—he tried to straighten his leg without falling over backwards. As he rose in the air. He started to swing back and forth. Above him, the noose picked up the opposite swing.
“Hey!” Florida yelled from above. “Cut it out.”
“Sorry,” Roger said. He tried to play out some slack in his shoulder rope, but nothing happened. His plan didn’t include a contingency for lowering himself. It was a simple pulley made of ropes and it only moved in one direction. He couldn’t even fall to the floor—the shaft was below him. With no way down, he hugged the ropes to his chest and prayed that the vibration would settle down.
“You’re not climbing are you?” Florida yelled. “You’re supposed to wait until I’m off the rope. I don’t trust this thing with our combined weight.”
“Okay,” Roger said. He had forgotten about waiting. Their combined weight was indeed on the rope. At least it seemed to be holding.
He spoke too soon.
With a creak from above, he dropped an inch. Something up there was giving way. Roger’s heartbeat broke into a gallop. He breathed fast, glancing down. With his gentle swing, his situation went from reasonable to precarious.
A new wave came down the rope and he started swinging from side to side. He tried to counter the movement by shifting his weight, but he only made it worse.
“Okay,” Florida called. “Come on up.”
The rope creaked again and Roger stiffened himself, waiting. It didn’t drop again, but he could sense that it wanted to. The rope had a personality, and it was not a pleasant one.
With a shallow, cautious breath, Roger pulled on the rope looped over his shoulder. The fibers dug into his muscles as he used his own body as a pulley. His foot rose grudgingly and he was ready to straighten out again. His hands were already cramping. His thigh was hot from exertion.
Above him, the rope swung again. This time it was pulled all the way to the side of the shaft. Roger’s stomach fell as he swung back and forth. The noose above him promised a place to rest his climbing leg. If he could reach it, he could take a break. He hauled down the shoulder rope and made his next attempt to ascend.
Every part of his body was exhausted, and he was only halfway there.
The old rope creaked and he dropped a few inches before jerking to a halt.
Roger climbed frantically. His fingers reached the noose—not that it did any good. He needed to get his feet up to it.
As Roger’s shoulders crested the noose, his makeshift pulley started to break down. He had to brace the loose end with one foot while he raised the slipknot with the other. Lifting himself an inch was a struggle. The fibers of the hangman’s rope bit into his raw hands.
The rope creaked again, but this time it actually jerked upwards.
Roger lost his grip on Florida’s rope and he clutched the hangman’s rope with both hands. Without tension, the rope connected to his foot went slack and his fingers began to slip. Roger pedaled his feet in the air trying to get a foot up to the noose. It was too high.
The hangman’s rope pulled upwards again and his hands banged against he shaft wall. The skin on his knuckles was scraped away, but Roger got a foot up to press against the shaft. Using that, he pushed his body back against the opposite wall.
“Stop!” he screamed. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it for a second.”
“Okay,” Florida called. She sounded perfectly calm.
Sweat poured down Roger’s face as he tried to find the noose with his foot. Florida’s rope was still hanging from his foot. The loose end slapped against the floor below him.
His toe found the noose. Roger tested the foothold and then moved his other foot to join the first. When he stretched out his legs and stood up in the noose, the relief was instantaneous. Roger tilted back his head and released a huge sigh. He shook out his arms one by one and looked at the rope burns on his palms. He was going to make it.
“Okay,” he called. “If you can, pull me up some more.”
“No problem.”
Florida worked whatever magic she hand conjured and the hangman’s noose resumed its creaky ascent. Roger was the merry cargo.
His foot snagged.
Roger felt the hangman’s rope stretch. He looked down to see what the problem was.
“Hold on,” he called.
He couldn’t get a good angle to shine his light. Something was pulling on his foot. Florida stopped pulling, but the tension increased on his foot. He saw the problem—the rope he had used to climb up to the noose was caught on something, and it was still looped around his foot.
Roger’s eyes darted left and right as he searched his memory—what could the rope have caught on? There was little down there except a round chamber and a shaft leading down to the mine. The only thing might be the spikes that were driving into the side of the shaft. They had climbed them to get to the hangman’s cave. But those would be directly below. The rope appeared to be pulled to the side.
Regardless, all he had to do was free his foot of the loop and he could continue upwards. The price would be the spare rope, but there was no helping it.
Roger took his trapped foot from the noose and tried to shake the loop from it. Florida’s rope was caught on his shoe. He tried to raise his foot to relieve the tension.
His whole body was jerked down. His knee popped and it felt like his hip was being pulled from its socket.
Roger screamed.
“What is it?” Florida yelled.
“I’m caught!” he screamed. His foot was jerked from side to side as the rope whipped back and forth.
The hangman’s noose began to rise again. The old rope creaked and dust filtered down from above. Roger couldn’t keep his other knee locked under the pressure. The noose was raising his foot up, but his body wasn’t going with it. He was going to be torn in two by the opposing forces.
After a moment of slack on the line, Florida’s rope jerked down again. Roger felt his skin and muscles flare with heat. He was being stretched to the point of breaking. He had to let go of the hangman’s rope. The fall might kill him, but at least it wouldn’t rip him in half.
Roger readied himself for the fall. He pushed the hangman’s rope away from himself.
His snared shoe popped off.
With the pressure relieved, the hangman’s rope jerked upwards. The energy drained from Roger’s body and he barely held on as he began to ascend again. His dangling leg was numb.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Florida pulled him over the edge and Roger flopped on his back. His hip and knee throbbed. The air was cool on his bare foot.
He raised his head enough to look down at his foot. It wasn’t completely bare. He was still wearing a sock. It was red with spreading blood.