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it should take them to make the return trip to the crest. |
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"'Bout five or six hours, I guess," the woman replied. "I never done it myself. You best be careful, though. Supposed to be a storm coming and you don't want to get caught up there in a blow." |
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Cyrus thanked the woman, tipped her 19 percent more than she was worth and helped Kyna bundle up for the trip back. The moment they stepped outside, they could see the clouds building to the south. |
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"Told ya," Cyrus whispered. |
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"Yeah? Well, even you have to be right sometime. We better not screw around. Let's go for the record." |
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"Safe to say, if we don't make it to the car before the storm hits, we didn't break it." |
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Kyna set off at a back-breaking pace, swinging her elbows like pistons and pushing hard with her legs. Before they even reached the field of brush, the sun had been swallowed up by a tide of angry clouds and the sky was streaked with dark purple bands that resembled leprous skin. The wind rolled down from the top of the mountain in waves that flattened the brush and threw leaves in their faces. Fighting the uphill slope was hard enough, but the wind made it a real chore. By the time they reached the forest, their bodies were bathed in clammy sweat and Kyna was puffing like an old plow horse. Just inside the first line of trees she stopped and braced herself on a rock. |
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She nodded but she was working hard to pull in oxygen. After a few moments she said, "If I'm going to have a heart attack, the least you could do is break a sweat." |
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Cyrus laughed and shook his head. "I am sweating. Here, feel." |
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He unzipped his jacket and pulled up his sweater. She swiped her fingers over his chest. |
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"See," he said. "My shirt is soaked too." |
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