Mica stood his ground, and the other boys around him. Nisha couldn't tell why. He'd been as excited to see the boastful young man try to climb Hectel'ora as she. But now--what was he doing, and where was the fishing village boy who'd spoke such big talk.
"Go home, Nish," said Mica. "You shouldn't be here."
Nisha kicked at a small bit of seaweed near her. It caught on her toes and was cold.
"You'll come and find me if he comes to climb?"
"Of course," said Mica.
"Promise?" she asked.
The other boys seemed relieved. Nisha could see it in their faces as she turned away. What were they protecting.
Then she charged.
Perhaps it was the surprise of it, or maybe it was the dark determination in here eyes, but none of the seven boys seemed ready at all as she flew at them.
"NO!" Mica cried, the only boy to try and grab her. But it was too late.
Nisha powered through the line of boys toward the base of the giant rock. Hands grasped at her and slipped off easily and then she tripped.
She hit the ground on all fours, the damp packed sand was gritty and hurt her hands and knees, then her elbows.
"Grab her!" yelled Mica.
Nisha looked back to see what she'd tripped over and gasped.
It was the boy who'd boasted. It was the climber and he was broken. His arms and legs stuck out at unnatural angles and his neck was twisted.
"Oh no," was all Nisha said. She couldn't process the death.
Hands were under her arms and pulled he up.
"Don't look," said Mica.
"He fell?" asked Nisha stupidly.
"He fell," said one of the boys. "From the over hang," and he pointed up.
Nisha followed the boys finger and saw where he pointed. The overhang was at least 300 feet up, a piece of jutting rock that hung over the beach, nearly directly over them.