Page 56 of Mountain Impact

Isolde took a couple small steps forward. She was now much closer to the edge than she’d ever wanted to be. She’d never suffered from a fear of heights, but then again she’d never been―

“I’ll give you one last chance,” Amélie said, in a coaxing voice. “If you jump, I’ll let him l―”

She never got the chance to finish the sentence. Drake lunged, moving faster than she’d ever seen a person move before, tackling Amélie to the ground. The gun clattered uselessly behind her. Isolde shuffled back from the edge, her heart in her mouth.

Drake was twice Amélie’s body weight, but it was clear he was trying not to hurt the woman. He reached out with his hand to push the gun further away from them, and that’s when Amélie sneaked out from underneath him. She was on her feet and running for the edge in an instant, shouting Pierre’s name.

Isolde shouted as the woman leaped to her death before them―only to be caught by Drake, who’d hurled himself in her direction and managed to hold on to Amélie’s wrist at the very last instant. He was on his stomach, his upper body hanging off the ledge, his hold on Amélie’s wrist the only thing stopping her from falling to her death.

Amélie dangled in Drake’s grasp, cursing a blue streak.

“Stop … stop moving,” he said, speaking through clenched teeth.

Isolde kneeled beside him.

“Get back, Isolde, away from the edge,” he grunted. Then, in a louder voice, speaking to Amélie. “I won’t let you fall, Amélie, I promise.”

Amélie’s right hand came up. For a moment, Isolde thought she was going to grab on to Drake’s arm to help him―then she saw the glinting metal in her hand.

The knife sliced deep into Drake’s right arm. Drake roared in pain. His left hand swiped at the hand holding the knife, which fell into the abyss. But he never let go of Amélie’s wrist.

“Let me go, you bastard,” Amélie screamed.

Red blood dripped down Drake’s arm. Soon, it would reach his hand, where he was holding on to Amélie.

She’s going to slip.

Drake seemed to remember he had a free arm, the one he’d used to swipe away at the knife. He wrapped his left hand around Amélie’s arm, so he was now holding on to her arm with both hands.

“I’m not … going to let you drop.” With a grunt, Drake started lifting.

It took Isolde a moment to realize that Amélie wasn’t screaming obscenities at them anymore―at some point over the last seconds, she’d passed out.

Finally, Amélie’s shoulders were level with the top of the cliff. Drake didn’t stop pulling. Isolde reached out to grab on to Amélie’s armpits and pulled, taking Amélie’s weight onto herself.

Drake was on his feet in a matter of seconds, grabbing Amélie off of Isolde. He lay the woman down flat on the floor and placed two fingers on her neck.

Isolde held her breath.

“She’s okay―just passed out,” Drake said. He turned Amélie’s body on to her side and pulled out a pair of zip ties.

“Is that necessary?”

Drake didn’t raise his eyes to look at her until he’d finished tying Amélie’s wrists together in front of her body. “Are you kidding me?” he replied, his tone incredulous.

Fair enough.

Maybe not the right question to ask.

“Uh, Drake … you’re bleeding everywhere,” Isolde said. Blood pumped out steadily from the cut in his arm. She noticed for the first time that his face looked almost gray.

How much blood is he losing?

“Yeah,” he said. He pulled up his sleeve to look at the wound. “Looks worse than it is … I think.”

Unconvinced, Isolde reached into her backpack and grabbed a small towel she always carried with her. It was still mostly dry.

“Here, put pressure on it,” she said. “We need to stop the bleeding.”