Waiting At The Top

      "I don't know if the Captain would like you doing this," Henry gave Mason a teasing smile as they climbed.

      "No," Mason sighed, "I believe it's safe to conclude she would not."

      "Well, it was my idea," the other man chuckled. "That might help your case a bit."

      "I doubt it," Mason smirked, "but I appreciate the offer."

      The men were nearing the top now. The ground had grown so steep they were no longer walking, but almost crawling, using their hands as much as their feet. With each step, the gravel beneath them would give way. Sometimes it would only be a small bit and they could continue, but other times it would be enough to cause them to slide back down a ways.

      The smell had grown overpowering, enough that it didn't matter if they breathed through their nose or their mouth. One way they would smell it, but the other they would taste it. Mason felt his stomach clench, recoiling at the assault.