It was just like doing pull-ups One beam after the next. In the light of the headlamp I could see Mason maybe five or six meters above me. You can catch him. You can do this. But he obviously knew what he was doing and had a rhythm going—one hand, then the other, gripping the ascending device that locked off the rope to hold him in place, sliding up the loop of rope for his foot. Then he would stand, slide up the ascender, and start over again. I climbed faster, trying to gain on him until I came to an impasse: The beam above me was missing. Either it’d fallen long ago or had never been placed there when this shaft was built. The next one was out of reach. I would need to jump, but if I missed it I was going to fall, and there wasn’t anything besides the beam I was standing on to stop me. I told myself I wouldn’t miss. Taking a deep breath, I crouched, gauged the distance, and leapt.
