The Ascent

• Niccolino Ciranni, Grade 10, Eastgate College
• Short Story
• 2016

Finalist in the 'Word Zone 2016' competition

Groaning, Lieutenant George Mallory heaved himself onto the edge of the ice shelf. Andrew ‘Sandy’ Irvine, his partner, hoisted Mallory up beside him. No amount of training had prepared them for the real climb.
“It’s blisteringly cold, mate!” yelled Sandy. The roar of the whipping wind almost snatched his words away.
“Minus 60 at least!” George’s words flung back. The two Englishmen surveyed the yawning chasms below them and the defiant summit before. Everest. At last, its haughty face had emerged from its shroud of cloud. Even now, a vicious storm was brooding; threatening to prevent the final leg to the summit.
“Blast!” spat George violently. After calculating, how long before the storm front would consume them, George snapped out of his trance, and trudged onwards. “We better get a move on,” he warned, “that storm will hit in about two hours. We won’t have anywhere between here and the top to make camp.”
“Do you think we should turn back to the base camp, then?”
“Not a chance. This is my third attempt; we’re too close,” retorted George. “Turn back if you want, but I will climb on.”
“Ha! And let you get all the glory?” Sandy tramped after the now grinning Lieutenant.
On and on they slogged. Their determination to reach the pinnacle drove the pair to cover the distance with surprising speed. Gasping for breath, George and Sandy now stood on the pinnacle of the tallest mountain in the world. A feat never before achieved. Sandy whooped triumphantly. Slipping a photograph tenderly from his pocket, George gazed fondly at his wife and daughter. “This is for you,” he murmured. Quite suddenly, the awesome view silenced them. Cascading rows of mountain ranges known as the roof of the world stretched to the boundaries of their vision.
“Unfortunately the storm is nearly upon us, Sandy,” George warned. “We’ll have a short rest and start the descent.”
Too soon the storm arrived. It attacked with fierce brutality. Bewildered and exhausted, they sought the shelter of an overhang. At least here they were safe from the stabbing winds. “We can rest here a wee bit,” George wheezed. Without warning a golf ball-sized chunk of ice slammed into George’s head. Grimacing, George spluttered, “I’m sorry for bringing you into this hell, Sandy!” Then his knees buckled as his body glided silently over the precipice to the valley below. Sandy was still staring in horror and disbelief when an eruption of snow and ice enveloped him.
While Mallory’s body was found seventy-five years later, Everest has kept Irvine in its icy grip. When asked, "Why climb Everest?" Mallory had answered, “Because it’s there!”