The Fall

Jake's invitation to hike the Waway mountain caught me off guard. He booked a private hike for the two of us. We had not hiked in several years after Jake's leg injury. A few days before the hike, I scoured the garage for my Ozark Hiking backpack. I snatched a flashlight, trekking poles, a knife, flare gun, first aid kit, and a gallon of water and trail mix from the brown peg wall. I was prepared for the adventure.

Exactly at 7:30 AM, a motor hummed around the curb. Jake pulled up in front of my house.

“Beep, beep!” the Jeep’s horn blared.

Jake yelled, “Come on!”

I slammed the door shut, sprinting to the trunk with my hiking bag. I tossed the bag against the grey interior and nestled into the passenger's seat. I locked fingers with Jake before he gestured the Jeep to the East highway. A familiar and nearly tangible feeling of happiness permeated the car. I haven’t felt this feeling in a while. I looked around the interior, glancing at the crowded console. Jake snatched a Starbucks drink from the cup holder, gulping it to the last drop.

Jake sighed, “Ahh! Nothing compares to a hot cup of coffee!”

Jake chatted about the drive, peering out the windshield. “Pete, I am so excited to hike! I can smell the aroma of pine trees and sap.”

He cracked a smile.

I glanced at Jake and said, “I'm glad your leg is healed. I know it's been killing you to not have hiked in so long!”

Jake exclaimed, “Yes. It's been a long time coming.”

Nighttime began to fall. The car hummed over the pavement, trailing the cluster of vehicles ahead. Yellow light beamed from pole lights, revealing packed rocks and dirt behind guardrails. The Waway mountain was near. Two hours of driving passed. Jake tensed, emitting a grunt and clenching his thighs together. The Jeep hit a sharp left towards the Waway gas station. We pulled to the gas station, and Jake ran to the outdoor bathroom. Twenty minutes flew by. Jake remained in the bathroom. I wandered off, scanning the surroundings.

“Eeeee!” an animal squealed.

I turned towards a green dumpster. A raccoon bashed the lid open with a soggy slice of pizza, sprinting up the mountainside, dropping moldy pepperoni and cheese. He trailed the decaying mountain edge, descending to a lower elevation to eat. He trembled, nibbling the pizza until a creaking sound emerged. Smash! A mountain form detached over the raccoon's position, thrashing his body. He squealed harshly, perishing into a dark, rocky mist. I closed my eyes and shifted towards the bathroom, meeting Jake as he approached the Jeep.

“Wooo! I let a bomb off in there!” Jake shouted.

He hunched over the window, grabbing his wallet to enter the store. He roamed the aisles, toppling Gatorades, Snickers, and Doritos into a bag. He approached the counter and paid the clerk before returning to the Jeep.

“Pop!” Jake opened a Gatorade and gulped continuously. “Ah!” That's delicious,” he smacked his lips.

Jake revved the vehicle, prompting me to store the snacks in the vehicle's console. The engine roared as Jake reversed the car, darting down Waway Avenue.

Google maps blared, “You have thirty minutes till arrival at Waway Mountain.”

Jake pressed the accelerator, sweeping up dust and garbage. A slight jerk echoed, guiding the Jeep through a windy entrance. The mountain was noticeably different. Its age showed through the decayed and wilted grass. Pebbles trickled from cracks, pelting vines that strangled the bases of pine trees. Jake eased on the brake, parking near razor-edged boulders. The car engine ceased. We opened the back doors and lugged our belongings to the cabin. Jake inserted the keys, opening the door, smacking a sign against the door that read, Welcome to Waway Mountains. The cabin interior was quaint and immaculate. King beds stretched from the walls with neatly tucked sheets and blankets. The hardwood sparkled under a fancy ceiling light, accentuating the pine pattern on the walls. Jake dropped our bags and dove into the bed, leaving me to use the sparkling clean bathroom.

“What time are we hiking tomorrow?” I asked Jake while on the toilet.

He stated, “At noon.”

“Cool!” I expressed.

“Wooosh!” The water flooded the toilet bowl.

I scrubbed my hands and flopped to the bed, caressing the fresh sheets.

The sun began to rise. A ray of light infiltrated the cabin blinds. I turned over in the sheets, looking at Jake's head.

“Whump!” I pelt his head with a pillow.

Jake groaned, “Ahhh, what!”

“Isn't it time for us to hike?” I questioned.

Jake rose from the bed, “Oh shit! It is. I don't want to leave this comfy bed!”

Jake snatched the telephone, ordering two deluxe breakfast plates. The server delivered them with haste, providing ample condiments. We adorned our hotcakes, sausage, and eggs with syrup and butter, feasting them to bits. The sink ran, washing residue from our hands before exiting the cabin.

A toned man dressed in brown greeted us. “Hi there, guys. I'm ranger Davis. How's your day been?”

“Hi, our day is great!” Jake uttered.

The ranger flopped in a chair and crossed our names from a list.

He snatched two tickets from a machine, “Here ya go, guys.”

He continued, “I hope you guys have a nice hike. Please watch out for loose rocks and stick with one another.”

The ranger placed two phones in Jake's hand, directing us up the trail. A wind flooded the sky, attracting me to the smell of fresh pines.

I sighed, “Ah, that smells good!”

Jake took a huge whiff of air, cheeks bulging a bright shade of red.

At 12:15 PM, we huffed violently. The once pine-smelling air thickened to a scorching heat. I overlooked the mountain edge, spotting loose rocks. The rocks decayed, elevating my anxiety. Maybe we should turn back, I thought. Just a few steps ahead, shimmery blue flowers bloomed within the cracks, defying the untidy rocky terrain. I kneeled and picked one, focusing back at the trail, analyzing the patterned petals, a clear contrast to the rocky terrain, a reminder of how beautiful nature is. Eventually, we reached the rest area. I sat next to Jake at a splintery picnic table, eating our snacks under a sudden breeze.

“Ahh! This feels like heaven, Jake calmly said. There's no noise or stress, just good old mother nature.”

I looked at Jake, finely crunching the planters trail mix in my mouth. I swallowed the remnants and smacked, tossing the trash into a black barrel. Jake followed behind me, restarting the hike for six minutes. Eventually, our calves tightened, knocking Jake to his knees as I stood by.

“Ahh,” he moaned. “I need a break!”

Jake revealed a flask and gapped his mouth open. The water leaked into his throat, quenching his thirst. He placed one foot before the other and rose from the ground.

“Ekkk,” a creaking noise surfaced.

I looked at the ground, watching it separate alarmingly. “Run!” I screamed at Jake.

It was too late. The mountain swallowed him, weakening the mountain to ash, crashing the cabins and trail. Alone, I stood on a thin stretch of rocky remains.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!" an exhausted voice cried.

I peered over the mountain. Jake choked on his breath, blowing a violent gasp.

He yelled, “I'm cut! Get help!”

I jerked from the mountain in a sweat. The phones were gone. I can't call for help. Yell over this big mountain? Probably not.

I raised the hiking bag, scouring the inside. The flare gun was gone. I tossed the bag and shoved a boulder. It withered and cracked to a dusty mess. No, no, no, no, no, I yelled, pounding against my head. Now what? I thought.

Night Time approached. I consoled Jake in the cold.

“Pete!” Jake faintly called my name.

I exclaimed, “Yes, Jake, I'm here!”

He cried, “If I don't make it. I want you to know that you are a great friend.”

“Don't talk like that, Jake! I wept. Everything is going to be okay.”

No one came. The bottom of the mountain was quiet, revealing the sounds of nocturnal creatures. I tracked the stars in an irregular pattern. The moon illuminated the terrain, revealing figures entering and exiting the gas station below. My face warmed into a glow. I breathed fast and snatched the hiking bag, filling it with jagged rocks. Dear god, I pray this works, I told myself.

“Ahhh!” I screamed and tossed the bag over the mountain.

“Thump!” The bag crashed into an air pump.

The crowd flinched and looked up the mountain.

“Help! Help!” I waved and yelled.

The people figited their hands, presumably calling the police. Soon, a convoy of paramedics, police, and helicopters flooded the area.

I yelled to Jake, “Jake, I got help!”

He barely laughed, indicating energy loss as a buzzing sound blared. A blue helicopter straddled the mountain, disturbing a cold dust of brown sediment.

“We're here to save you!” a slim rescue man appeared.

He clenched my hands, pulling me past the step. I tearfully slid in the entry, collapsing to the patterned floor.

I cried, “My friend is below the mountain!”

The rescuer informed, “We know a crane is ready to save him.

“Fly to Waway Hospital!” The rescuer informed the pilot.

The pilot lifted from the mountain, shoving me to a window. I looked over the destroyed mountain, watching the crane lift Jake to safety. Tears crowded my eyes until the helicopter hovered over the hospital, prompting a team of doctors to rush me to the ICU. A few hours passed. I rose from a hospital bed, shivering in the cold, discovering bandages around my hands and feet. I fell back to sleep. Another day passed. I left my room to visit Jake, who was a few rooms down the hall. He sat in a bleached white room, stretched in the bed with numerous stitches mending his face. He turned towards the door.

“Pete, is that you? Did we make it?” He faintly questioned.

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

Jake's face tensed. He placed his head comfortably, sobbing tears.

We stared at each other as I approached the bed. A knock sounded on the door, “Boom, boom!”

I turned around, facing a tall Chinese doctor, draped in a wrinkly lab coat.

He greeted, “Hello, I'm Doctor Vu.”

He looked at Jake, “I'm here to start the blood transfusion.”

Jake nodded.

Doctor Vu stepped towards a machine with a keypad, punching in his credentials. A soothing hum vibrated the room. Healing was underway. Jake tensed as the needle pierced his skin, feeding blood into his faint veins. I patted his shoulder and locked fingers with him in honor of our signature handshake. He chuckled. I released my hand and stood by his bedside. A few days later, we graced the mirror, analyzing wounds that forever marked our bodies. We cried, but this time tears of joy, a sign of our strengthened friendship. A month later, Jake looked at his face, completely healed and stitchless. He was plain-faced, placing his hands together with a flinch and nodding in gratitude. I glanced at my hands, clenching my fingers, bandage-free as I exited the Jeep. We found ourselves threading a barren trail entrance, listening to mother nature. We smiled from ear to ear, but we would never forget the past. The crashing of rocks and petals lingers in my mind sporadically, I thought as two birds flew over the sky, chirping an enchanting song over purple flowers. The wind, still cold against my skin, whirled from the Waway mountain.