Peak (Peak #1)

by Roland Smith

The Hook I WAS ONLY TWO-THIRDS up the wall when the sleet started to freeze onto the black terra-cotta. My fingers were numb. My nose was running. I didn’t have a free hand to wipe my nose, or enough rope to rappel about five hundred feet to the ground. I had planned everything out so carefully, except for the weather, and now it was uh-oh time. A gust of wind tried to peel me off the wall. I dug my fingers into the seam and hugged the terra-cotta until it passed. I should have waited until June to make the ascent, but no, moron has to go up in March. Why? Because everything was ready and I have a problem with waiting. I had studied the wall, built all my custom protection, and picked the date. I was ready. And if the date passed I might not try it at all. It doesn’t take much to talk yourself out of a stunt like this. That’s why there are over six billion people sitting safely inside homes and one . . . “Moron!” I shouted.

This chapter would be a good study for suspense and character inference