“I think I’m stuck,” he finally hisses. “I caught on to the side of the rock before I hit the ground, but my foot is wedged between two rocks and it’s not budging.”

I squint through the dark. “I can’t see you. How far down are you?”

“Not too far, I don’t think” he says, keeping his voice quiet. “Look to your left a little.”

I follow his instruction and spot him, not too far below, just like he said. But it’s too dark to see the situation he’s in, just how badly he’s stuck. I shuck off my jacket and bag, so it won’t make noise when I move. Then I scoot my feet over the edge, turn, and back down, praying that the vampires don’t spot me—or worse, spot him. Gradually, I maneuver my way down to him. Instantly, I realize that he’s in a much worse situation than he let on. He’s dangling upside down, blood rushing to his head, stealing circulation from his legs. The only thing that’s keeping him from nose-diving to the ground—to the vampires—is his leg, which is wedged awkwardly between a fracture in the rock.

“Can you get yourself turned upward?” I ask, bracing myself on the rock beside him.

He tries to lift himself up and moans in pain. “I think my leg might be broken.”

I shift my weight silently. “Broken?”

“Yeah, bones broken,” he moans. “Never mind. I’ll explain later. Just help me get my leg unstuck.”

I scale up above him, positioning myself so that I can gently grab hold of his leg without falling to the ground. Warm liquid seeps through my fingers and drips down the back of my hand. “Are you bleeding?”

He responds with a groan.

“Why isn’t it healing?” I wonder.

He only groans again and I rush to free his leg, knowing if the vampires smell the blood, they’ll turn him into one of them. And even I won’t be able to stop them all.

“Okay, grab onto something,” I instruct, one hand on his bleeding leg, the other securing me from falling.

Rocks tumble to the ground. “There’s nothing to hold onto.”

I extend my leg down to him. “Okay, so hold onto my leg.”

“Are you crazy?” He says. “I’ll yank you down with me.”

“You’re underestimating my strength,” I say, hoping I’m not overestimating it.