Breaking Point

death.
    He turned to face the wall and reached down on either side to grasp the sharp edge of the rock, and backed off until he dropped and was suspended. While he hung in the air, he looked down his shirtfront to confirm the trail was still there below him. It was. Joe said a prayer and let go.
    The soles of his boots hit the surface of the trail with a heavy thump, and his knees screamed from the impact. He didn’t remember
that
from ten years before. Far below, he heard something smack against the rocks, and he realized the phone had fallen out of his jeans from the jump. He wouldn’t be able to call Marybeth for a while, and he cursed.
    “Hurry!” McLanahan shouted.
    “Okay,” he shouted up. Because of his angle, he couldn’t see the other three above him. “You can come on. The trail is here, and I’m standing on it. Come one at a time so I can help steady you and guide you down when you let go.”
    A few seconds later, Joe recognized Farkus’s Vibram-soled work boots dangling above him. Even though the fire was roaring and snapping on top, Joe could hear Farkus mewling with fear.
    “It’s okay,” Joe said, reaching up until he could grasp the back of Farkus’s belt. “You can let go.”
    “Sweet Jesus,” Farkus cried, still hanging.
    “Let go,”
Joe shouted.
    Farkus dropped and landed clumsily on the trail, and Joe kept a grip on the belt so the man wouldn’t lose his balance and plunge into the canyon.
    With Farkus now standing and hugging the wall, Joe shinnied carefully around him. He could feel Farkus trembling.
    “Move a few feet down the trail so I have some room to work,” Joe said to him. Then to McLanahan and Butch: “Next!”
    “We’re burning up here,” Butch’s voice croaked.
    “Then
hurry
,” Joe replied.
    He looked up in time to catch a small rock that bounced off his cheekbone from the shelf above. Then, more quickly than he could react, the entire bulk of Kyle McLanahan flew silently by and vanished into the canyon below.
    Joe had seen just a flash of the ex-sheriff’s face as the man plunged past him feetfirst. McLanahan’s expression wasn’t terror—he simply looked annoyed that he’d lost his footing. It happened so quickly Joe hadn’t even had the chance to reach out for him, although if he had, the weight and momentum of the body would have likely taken him down with it.
    As he processed what he’d just seen, Joe heard a heavy impact far below that sounded like a bag of ice being dropped on a sidewalk.
    “What just happened?” he yelled up at Butch.
    “The stupid son of a bitch missed the shelf when he stepped down,” Butch said. “I tried to grab him, but he was gone.”
    Joe shook his head to clear it, then said, “Okay, now you, Butch.”
    “Here I come.”
    Joe tapped on Butch’s ankles to assure him he was there. The fabric of Butch’s clothing was smoking from heat. Then, like he’d done with Farkus, Joe grasped Butch by the belt and steadied him down to the trail. Joe noted that Butch had left his rifle behind, although he still had a pistol shoved into his waistband.
    —
    J OE AGAIN HAD F ARKUS mash himself against the cliff wall while he shouldered around behind him.
    “Is he dead?” Farkus asked.
    “Probably.”
    “Too many damned donuts,” Farkus said, shaking his head.
    —
    H UGGING THE WALL, Joe sidestepped down along the narrow trail, calling out hazards such as a break in the trail or loose rocks. Farkus followed, then Butch.
    After the first switchback, the trail widened and they were able to square their shoulders and hike down it slowly. Joe kept one hand on the canyon wall at all times. In case he slipped on loose earth, he wanted to fall into the wall and not plunge into the canyon like McLanahan had.
    As they descended, the roar of the fire muted, but the sky above was still smudged with smoke. Joe could see no glimpse of blue in it. The light filtering through the smoke cast everything with a dirty yellow tint.
    He had never gotten along with McLanahan from the beginning, but Joe felt no sense of relief from what had just happened. He doubted he would ever forget that look of utter
annoyance
on the ex-sheriff’s face as he flew by.
    —
    J OE MEASURED THEIR progress by studying the opposite wall of the canyon as they descended. They were barely halfway down after twenty minutes of trekking. He could make out the trail on the other side as it switchbacked up the wall, although lengths of it looked overgrown by