Read Long Lost for Free Online Page B

would have been catastrophic. Instead, I’d rolled down the slope, painfully reducing the length of the fall. But beneath the slope of loose stones, there had been a ledge over which I’d tumbled to the ledge I’d landed on, and the distance between them was about twenty feet. A potentially lethal drop. Why wasn’t I dead?
    My knapsack dangled above me. It was caught on a sharp branch of a stunted pine tree that had managed to grow from the side of the cliff. I remembered stuffing my windbreaker into the knapsack and hanging the knapsack over my left shoulder before I’d walked over to peer into the chasm. The branch had snagged the knapsack. The sharp pain in my left shoulder indicated the force with which I’d been jerked to a stop. My arm had slipped free from the strap. I’d fallen a body length to this ledge. Luck was all that had saved me.
    Every movement excruciating, I strained to sit up. My mind tilted, as if ball bearings rolled from the front of my skull to the back. For a moment, I feared that I’d vomit.
    “Jason!” I tried to yell. “Petey!”
    But the words were like stones in my throat.
    “Jason!” I tried harder. “Petey!”
    The roar of the stream overpowered my voice.
    Don’t panic, I fought to assure myself. It doesn’t matter if they can’t hear me. They know where I am. They’ll help me.
    My God, I hope they don’t try to climb down, I suddenly thought.
    “Jason! Petey! Stay where you are! You’ll fall and get killed!”
    My voice cracked, making my words a hoarse whisper.
    Straining to see through the haze, I hoped to catch a glimpse of Jason and Petey peering over the rim to try to find me. No sign of them. Maybe they’re trying to get a better vantage point, I thought. Or maybe they’re hurrying back to the mouth of the chasm, hoping to reach me from below.
    I prayed that they’d be careful, that Jason wouldn’t take foolish chances, that Petey would make sure he didn’t. Trembling, I parted the rip in my sleeve. Wiping away the blood, I saw a gash five inches long between my elbow and my wrist. Blood immediately welled up, obscuring the wound. It dripped from my arm, pooling on the ledge.
    Bile shot into my mouth.
    Do something, I thought. I can’t just sit here and let myself bleed to death.
    My knapsack seemed to float above me. I stretched my good arm but couldn’t reach it. In greater pain, I mustered the strength to try to stand.
    The first—aid kit in the knapsack, I thought.
    My legs gave out. I clawed at a niche and barely avoided toppling into the chasm. Despite the cold from the stream, I sweated. Shock made me tremble as I grabbed for a higher niche and wavered to my feet. For a moment, I saw specks in front of my eyes. Then my vision cleared, and I stared up toward the knapsack. Despairingly, it seemed as high as ever. My injured left arm dangled at my side. I extended my right arm upward.
Another six inches
. All I need is six inches more, I thought.
    Pressing my chest against the cliff, standing on tiptoes, wincing from new throbbing pain in my hips, my sides, and my ribs, I stretched as high as I could, then breathed out in triumph as I touched the knapsack’s strap.
    Vapor from the stream had slicked the nylon. I lost my grip but instantly pawed for the strap again, pushing my tiptoes to their limits, this time clutching with all my strength. I tugged the knapsack to the side, toward the chasm, working to free it from the stout branch it had snagged on. I tugged once, twice, and suddenly felt weightless as the knapsack jerked free.
    Falling, I dove toward the ledge. I screamed as my injured arm landed, but I couldn’t let myself react. I had to concentrate solely on my good arm hanging over the ledge, the knapsack dangling from my fingers.
    Cautiously, I rolled onto my back and placed the knapsack on my chest. The temptation to rest was canceled by the increased flow of blood from my arm. Nauseated, I opened the knapsack, pawed past my windbreaker and