A jagged scar filled with light flashed over Will's head. Clouds, the same shade as the granite on which he stood, rolled in front of the sun.

"We've got to get down quick!" John, his older brother, yelled. Like Will, a helmet covered his sandy hair. He smiled, but his eyes remained serious.

Alarmed, Will moved backward, pressings his legs against a boulder. He suddenly felt very young. Maybe 12 isn't old enough to tackle the Grand, he thought.

Sliding his fingers over the buckle of his climbing harness, he tightened the belt. In front of him, a rope snaked over the lip of a cliff. Behind him, 13,770-foot Grand Teton loomed, casting a shadow.

John stepped toward the rope. He opened his mouth to say something when the sky split, throwing sparks of light toward the mountain. Will heard a crack, then a rumble. Dirt and rocks rained down on him, and he swallowed back a scream.

A slab of granite tumbled from above, knocking John to the ground. His head bounced against a rock.

"John!" Will yelled, staring at his brother. He lay on his side, eyes closed. Will wanted to help, but his feet wouldn't cooperate.

Wiping away tears, he thought back to the climb that morning. "Dig deep," John had said
as Will, attached to his brother with a rope, had clambered across an exposed area on his
stomach. Then he had inched along a ledge with empty space yawning behind him. John's words had stayed with Will all the way to the top of Grand Teton.

But now, as rain beaded his jacket and thunder exploded around him, Will didn't think he could dig any deeper. He looked at his brother. Blood ran from a cut just below where his helmet ended.

John opened his eyes, squinting at Will. He started to say something when the sky opened, blasting the cliff with a crackling whip of lightning. Will staggered as rain turned to hail, stinging his face.

John groaned and shut his eyes. Yet Will could hear him in his mind. "Dig deep."

He took a breath and walked toward his brother. The rocks felt slick.

"That's it, buddy," John said when Will reached him, helping him to his feet.

John swayed. "I feel a little dizzy."

With John's arm around Will's neck, they tottered, collapsing against a rock. Hail drummed a rhythm on their helmets.

John pulled a smashed cell phone from his pocket and shook his head. "Another group should be along soon." As they waited, the sun clawed a path through the sky, but the storm smothered it.

Will noticed that John's skin matched the color of the mountain. Fear curled into a ball inside Will's stomach, but he said, "I can get help. I'll rappel."

"I don't think…" John's head rolled forward. Will shook his arm, but John only moaned.

Will blinked back tears. John was more than his brother; he was his mentor. He had taught Will how to rock climb, telling him he was ready for the Grand.

But without his teacher, Will felt lost. He placed a hand on his brother's back. John seemed so helpless, certainly not the college senior he would be that fall. Again, Will heard John's voice. "Dig deep."

I can do this, Will thought. It's a fixed rappel. The anchors are in place.

He eased John to the ground and covered him with his coat. Feeling sick, he approached the ledge. During practice rappels, he had been on belay. Now, until he slipped the rope over the metal figure-8 attached to his harness, he was on his own.

His hands shook as he grabbed the rope, bending it into a loop. He then fed the loop into the figure-8, sliding the rope over the top of the device and locking it in with a carabiner. It looked correct, but he wouldn't be sure until he stepped backward.

Leaning against the rope, he took two steps down the face of the cliff. His heart shuddered, but everything held. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck, and he breathed in rhythmic gasps. He clutched the line in his right hand, holding it slightly behind him, almost at hip level.

The wind shoved him and rain spit in his face. But Will continued walking backward, following the path of the rope. He controlled his speed with his right hand, slowly running down the line. Soon John was out of sight.

After about 40 feet, the cliff gave away, and Will swung in the air. He no longer had to worry about where to place his feet, and he allowed the rope to slip through his hand at a faster rate. Unable to see below him, he crashed into a boulder and stumbled across a rocky platform. He unlocked the carabiner and released the loop.

He now stood alone on the Grand's Upper Saddle. The technical sections of the climb were behind him, but he still had to be careful. Tripping, he stumbled forward. Uncertainty whispered in his ears, but he ignored it, continuing on a faint trail and scrambling over rocks.

Glancing below him, Will saw two men hurrying up the path. He picked up his pace, and met them about halfway down the slope. He recognized the men from the huts on the Lower Saddle, where he and John had camped the previous night.

"We saw the lightning," one of them said. "Where's the rest of your party?"

Will gasped, trying to catch his breath. "My brother needs help."

One of the men gestured toward the mountain. "Show us where."

Will turned toward the rope, toward John. With the men following, Will retraced his tracks, scrambling to the Upper Saddle. The image of John lying on his side tumbled through Will's mind. He slipped, and rocks slid from beneath his feet.

"Watch yourself, son," one of the men said, reaching out to steady Will. He nodded and tried to concentrate, but his thoughts kept returning to John.

Soon they stood on the rocky platform next to the rope. Will yelled, "John!"

No response.

"Please be okay," Will said, feeling tears again as sunlight brushed his cheeks. A blue sky peeked from behind clouds.

There was coughing and then John said, his voice hoarse, "What took you so long, buddy?"

Relieved, Will smiled. One of the men patted him on the back.

John added, "Are you okay?"

Convinced now that his brother would be fine, Will said, "I'm starting to feel pretty good."

He reached out and touched the rope, amazed that he had rappelled by himself. "John, I did it," he whispered, looking up at the cliff. "I dug deep."

The End

Note to readers: Located outside of Jackson, Wyo., Grand Teton National park was established in 1929. Climbers as young as seven have scaled the Grand. On July 26, 2003, lightning struck Grand Teton's Exum Ridge. One climber was killed and several others injured. A search team, led by the National Park Service, rescued the survivors.

Erin Fanning is the author of Mountain Biking Michigan (Globe Pequot Press, 2002), and her short story, Sagebrush Schoolhouse, placed second in Idaho Magazine's 2007 Short Story Contest. Her writings have also appeared in publications like Stirring: A Literary Review, American Profile, Oregon Outside, and Quiet Sports. She splits her time between the woods of northern Michigan and the mountains of central Idaho.

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