Chapter 15 Chapter Thirteen Tears of the Night

Almost without knowing it, I entered an open area of ​​rocks and gravel.Moraine again?I am not sure.A steep descent among weeds and cacti disorients me.I turned my head and looked behind me, and there was a black line winding on the snow-covered hillside.There is no snow on the rocks.Where are these rocks?I rummaged through my backpack and took out my headlamp, a dim yellow light came on.I looked around and saw many gray chaotic rocks.I'm sitting on a huge wasteland, barely able to tell which direction to climb.The headlights went out quickly, and I tossed aside and moved into the darkness ahead, my mind in complete disarray.I try to chase away the frantic tangle of thoughts and capture a little bit of reality.It's the river bed!So I was here, but remembering that didn't help because I fell asleep right away and woke up later with no memory of it.The idea of ​​me being on the river bed flashed through my mind, but unfortunately I couldn't catch it again, and my thoughts became more frantic.

The riverbed was 800 meters wide, strewn with rocks, and puddles of meltwater covered with ice.In the darkness far away there was a river running, but the sound of the water was muffled by the blizzard.The tent is on the opposite bank, but where am I?Am I moving towards the center of the river bed, or do I circle back to the moraine dam?Does anyone care?I continued to move my body, and my legs kept hitting the rock.Waves of pain make me groan, but only the hiss of the blizzard blows in.That voice died away an hour ago.I'm glad I don't have to listen to his nagging anymore. I listened instinctively to change course, side to side, as if I recognized the boulders, saw familiar sights in the dark, and followed an unconscious compass.How far is the tent?Maybe not anymore!I can wait until morning so I can see the route.So I sat in the wind and waited.But I found myself moving again, and I didn't know how long I had been waiting.If you sit and wait, morning will never come.Look at the kettle, and the kettle will never boil is a silly proverb!I smirked, laughing until I had already forgotten why I was laughing.

I looked at my watch and realized it was already early morning.A new day has arrived.Twelve forty-five.I felt a huge boulder against my shoulder, very rough-edged, and I pulled myself up until I was sitting on the boulder.I had a hunch that I was approaching camp.I stared into the darkness in front of me.It must be here, I can feel it.I suddenly smelled a strong and pungent smell of feces around me.I sniffed the glove hard, and the stench made me recoil in disgust.It took me a long time to understand what was going on here. poop?How could I be sitting in a poop? I slid back down against the boulders.I knew where I was, but I couldn't muster the strength to move. I could only stare despondently into the darkness in front of me.The rock that serves as a makeshift kitchen should stand somewhere ahead, but where?Suddenly, gusts of wind and snow hit my face, I raised my hands to protect myself, the strong stench rushed straight into my nostrils, and my mind suddenly woke up.Now all I can do is yell!I sat up and screamed into the darkness.His throat seemed to be stuck, and his voice was very distorted.I couldn't make a sound, I could only squint and look forward.wait.

Maybe they're gone.The cold hit again, and I felt the chill caressing my back maliciously.I'm sure I won't survive tonight.But I don't care anymore.Life and death have long been entangled.The past few days have gradually merged into a mixture of reality and madness, a blur, and now I seem to be hovering between reality and madness.Does it make a big difference to live or die?I raised my head and shouted in the dark: Simon I teeter on the boulders and stare into the night.My begging has become hysterical.I heard hoarse whispers and moans that hardly seemed to be my own: Please you must be there You must be there Oh god okay!I know you guys are there to save me!you bastards, help me

Snowflakes fell like feathers on my face, and the wind tugged at my clothes violently.The night was still dark.The hot tears on the face mixed with the cold snowmelt.I want it to end.I feel destroyed.For the first time in so many days, I admit that I have finally run out of strength.I need someone, anyone.The storm in the night is destroying me, and I don't have the willpower to fight anymore.I cried for many things, but mostly because I had no one by my side to go through this horrible night.I lowered my head to my chest, ignoring the darkness outside, allowing myself to cry in anger and pain.I can't take it anymore.I can't go on.Everything is too heavy.

help me! My roar pierced the darkness, but was immediately swallowed up by the wind and snow. At first I thought I saw a flash of lightning in my mind, like a sudden blinding flash after falling into an ice crevasse.That's not lightning!It was glowing all the time, red and green lights, flashing colors in the dark night.I was dumbfounded.Some kind of glowing object floated in front of me.I saw a red and green semicircle suspended in the night. Is it a spaceship?Throw rocks at me, I must suck to be hallucinating Then, I heard an indistinct sound, surprised and sleepy, followed by a brighter light emerging from within.A flash of yellow light suddenly jumped out of the color, forming a wide cone.I hear more voices that are not mine, but other voices.

It's a tent!they are still there The thought paralyzed me.I fell sideways over the boulders and landed crookedly on the rocky riverbed.The pain ran up my thigh and I couldn't help moaning.In an instant I could only cry weakly, unable to move a single part of my body.Something that had been holding me up, giving me a sliver of strength to fight, was lost in the blizzard.I tried to look up from the rock to see the lights, but I couldn't. Joe!is it you?Joe! Simon's voice sounded tense and hoarse.I yelled back to him, but no sound came out.I sobbed, retched as my chest heaved, and muttered staccato words into the darkness.I turned to see a beam of light bobbing up and down, hurrying towards me.I also heard the sound of stones rubbing against my feet.Someone shouted in panic:

There, there! Then a light shone on me, and all I could see was a blinding beam of light. save me please save me. I felt a pair of strong arms reach out and wrap around my shoulders, pulling me.Simon's face suddenly appeared before my eyes. Joe!God!oh my god!Damn, fuck, look at you.Fool, Richard, catch him.Lift him up, lift him up!God, Joe, how come?how come! He was so shocked that he didn't realize what he was talking about.He was profane, swearing, and incoherent.Richard hesitated, tense, panicked. I'm dying and I can't hold it anymore.I can't stand it I thought it was all over please save me for god's sake save me

It's fine.I found you, I held you, you're safe Then Simon put his arms around my chest and pulled me up, dragging me, my heels hitting rocks.I landed heavily in front of the tent door, and the candlelight inside shone softly.I looked up to see Richard staring down at me, his eyes wide and worried.I wanted to smirk at him, but the tears kept coming from my eyes and I couldn't say anything.Then Simon dragged me into the tent and placed me gently on top of the warm down sleeping bag.He knelt beside me and looked at me, and I saw a mixture of sympathy, fear, and panic in his eyes.I smiled at him and he grinned back, shaking his head slowly.

Thanks, Simon.I said, you are doing the right thing.I saw him quickly turn his face away and look away, thank you anyway. He nodded silently. The tent is filled with warm candlelight.People seemed to be suspended above me, and shadows moved lightly on the walls of the tent.The huge exhaustion seemed to drain all my strength in an instant.I lay still, feeling my back pressed against the soft down.Someone looked down at me, two faces, alternately appearing in front of me, confusing me.Then Richard thrust the plastic teacup into my hand. Tea!hot tea!But I can't hold it. Simon took the teacup, helped me sit up, and gave me tea.I saw Richard busy by the fire, stirring the thick porridge with milk, adding sugar with a spoon as he stirred.Then more tea came, and cereal, but I couldn't eat it.I looked over to Simon and saw the tension on his face and the shock in his eyes.For a while no one spoke.

I remembered the last time Simon looked at me like that was when he'd stared at me for too long on the ice cliff when I broke my leg.In that instant I knew he had accepted the fact that I was going to die.Then the silence was broken and we fired off a barrage of questions almost simultaneously, most of which went unanswered.During that silent, lengthy eye contact, all questions seemed trivial and all answers superfluous.I told him about the crevasse and the climb back to camp.He told me about the nightmarish descent after he cut the rope, and how he concluded I was dead.He looked at me as if he still couldn't quite comprehend the fact that I had returned.I smile and touch his hand. Thanks.I said again.Although knowing that is never enough to express how I feel. He looked embarrassed and quickly changed the subject: I burned all your clothes! What? well i thought you wouldn't Seeing the look on my face, he burst out laughing.I laughed with him.We laughed for a long time, the laughter was harsh, almost maniacal. Unknowingly several hours passed.We chatted endlessly about our experiences in the tent.We had a good laugh about how Simon and Richard searched for the money, and how my underwear was taken outside the tent and burned.They handed me cup after cup of tea with concern in their eyes.We displayed a deep and enduring friendship, with every movement, every shoulder touch, every look, an intimacy that we would never have shown before, and probably never will.It reminds me of those few hours on the face of the blizzard, during which brief time we shared a stereotypical third-rate war movie of our own. Simon forced me to finish my porridge while Richard prepared an omelette sandwich.It seemed like I had to swallow a different medicine with every sip of my tea.Painkillers, Luco, and antibiotics.I refused to eat the sandwich because I couldn't swallow the dry bread. eat it!said Simon sternly.The dry bread got stuck in my throat and made me cough.I chewed helplessly, my mouth refused to salivate, so I ignored his orders and spit it out. All right.let me see your legs. He suddenly became stern and decisive.I had just protested, and he was already cutting my tattered outer pants with a knife.I watched as the blade sliced ​​through the thin nylon with little effort.It was a knife with a red handle.It was my knife, last used three and a half days ago, to cut the rope that bound me.A wave of fear swept over me.I don't want to suffer any more pain.At least not today.All I longed for was sleep, in a warm down sleeping bag.I recoiled in terror as he lifted my leg and pulled my pants off. It's fine.I will try to be careful. I turned my gaze to Richard, who looked as if he was going to throw up.I grinned at him, but he turned away, busy with his fire.I was about to see what my legs would look like, and I was both excited and worried.I wonder what the hell is causing me so much pain, but I'm also terrified of seeing my legs rotting, infected.Simon pulled my leggings back and gently undid the laces and nylon buckles. Richard, you have to come over and hold his leg.You steady me so I can take off his boots. Richard hesitated by the fire.Can't you just cut the boots off? Yes, but not necessary.hurry up.Just a few seconds. He moved over to me and hugged my calf carefully.Simon started pulling at my boots and I screamed. Hold on tight, for heaven's sake! He tugged again and the pain swelled rapidly in my knee.I closed my eyes, the pain in my knees was flooding, I was crying, I wished this would stop. OK, done. The pain subsided quickly.Simon threw the boots out of the tent, and Richard let go of my legs.I guess he kept his eyes shut just now too. Then, my winter pants were also gently taken off.Richard went back to the back of the tent.I sit up expectantly.When Simon took off my thermal pants, we were both aghast at the damage to my leg. Damn it! Damn it, it's so swollen! My legs were like swollen stumps, covered with yellow and brown slime, and livid bruises running down from the knees.My thigh and ankle looked the same, except for a huge lump twisting weirdly to the lower right to see where the knee used to be. God!It's more serious than I thought.Seeing the injury made me feel a little weak, I reached out and tried to feel the muscles around my knee.At least there was no redness, inflammation, or obvious signs of infection. Seriously, your heel is broken too.Simon was examining my feet, grunting. Yeah?Oh fine.This doesn't seem so important to me anymore.Heels, knees, even if you add them all together, what's the big deal!I'm down, I can rest, eat, sleep.Everything will recover. right.See those purple bruises?That's a sign of bleeding.You have these bruises on your heels and around your ankles. Come on, Richard, look at this!I said. He glanced over my shoulder, then hurried away: Oh!I wish I hadn't seen it. I laughed out loud and found myself changing very quickly.I no longer laugh manically and hysterically.Simon pulled my thermal pants back over my lap, a worried look on his face. We have to get you out of here quickly.The donkey team came in the morning.One of us can go down first and ask Spinoza to bring a mule and saddle. let me go.Richard volunteered, and it was four-thirty.I'll go after drinking this cup of tea.That way you can use my sleeping bag and Joe will sleep in yours.i will be back by six o'clock Wait a moment!I interrupt him, I need to rest and eat.I can't bear to ride the mule for two days. Even if you can't hold it, you have to hold it.Simon said firmly that there was no room for negotiation.It will take you at least three days to get to the hospital.In addition to leg injuries, you're frostbitten and overtired.Infection can result if left untreated. But Say no more!We leave in the morning.It will take more than a week to reach Lima.You can't take that risk. I was too weak to argue with him, but looked at them imploringly, hoping they would change their minds.Simon ignored me and started to put my legs into his sleeping bag.Richard handed me some tea, and with a reassuring smile on his face, he went out and disappeared into the night.I'll be back soon.From the darkness came his cry, and by this time I was almost falling asleep.It seems that there is something important to do before going to bed.But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't open my eyes.Then I remembered and said: Simon What's wrong? You know you saved my life.You must have had a hard time that night.I do not blame you.You have no choice.I can understand.I also understand why you think I'm dead.You did your best.Thanks for taking me down the mountain. He didn't say anything.I look at him, he's leaning back on Richard's bag, tears streaming down his cheeks.I look away.Then he said: To be honest, I thought you were doomed.I'm sure.I see no chance of you surviving. It doesn't matter.I understand Oh my god!I went down the mountain alone and it was too much for me.I mean, how do I explain to your parents?what can I say?I am ashamed of your mother, but I must cut the rope.She will never understand and will never believe what I say. It doesn't matter.Now you don't need to do that. I wish I had stayed longer.Just believe that you might be alive, and you won't have to suffer so much. It doesn't matter.We are here now.It's passed. Yes.He choked up and said in a low voice, I felt tears filling my eyes like a flood, and I couldn't hold back.I have no way of knowing how much he was tortured.I fell asleep a second later. I awoke to noise and laughter.The girls chat excitedly in Spanish by the tent.I also heard Simon and Richard discussing the donkey.I slowly opened my eyes, and the light entering the tent seemed so strange.The sun shone sparsely on the red and green tent cloth, with shadows passing by from time to time.Outside the tent is as lively as a market.I suddenly remembered what happened a few hours ago.I'm safe, it's true.Smiling lazily, I lay my arms against the soft fleece of my sleeping bag, basking in the bliss of being home.I have been through so much danger that my mind wanders in a half-dream. An hour later I woke up from my sleep to hear a voice calling my name from afar.I am confused.Who is calling me?Sleep gently pulled me back into the warm sleeping bag.Yet the voice still calls: Come on, Joe, wake up. I turned my head to the side and vaguely saw heads crowding the doorway.Simon knelt there with a cup of steaming tea in his hand.Behind him, two girls looked over his shoulder at me curiously.I tried to sit up but couldn't move.My chest felt like it was under tremendous pressure and pinned to the ground.I waved one arm weakly, trying to pull myself up, but the hand just shook limply.At this time, a pair of arms stretched out and hugged my shoulders, pulling me to sit up: Drink some of this and then try to eat something.You need to eat. I hold the cup in my gloved hand and look down, the steam wet my face.Simon walked away, but the girls were still squatting in the doorway and smiling at me.Watching them bask in the sun and watch me drink tea, it all seems unreal to me.They looked grotesque in peasant skirts with wide hips and hats with flowers in them.What are they doing here?My mind seemed to be racing so fast every second that I couldn't fully comprehend what was happening before my eyes.I have arrived here safely.I recognized our tent, and Simon and Richard, but not these strangely dressed Peruvians.The best thing to do, I decided, was to ignore them and concentrate on my tea.I just took a sip and it burned my mouth.The loss of feeling in my hands and the fact that I was wearing gloves to protect my frozen fingers made me forget how hot the tea was.I gasped and blew quickly, trying to cool the tip of my tongue.The girls giggled. For the next half hour, food and drinks were poured out to me.They also cheer me up from time to time and tell me some latest news.The Lion of Spinoza opened his mouth and demanded a high price for his mule, so there was some delay.I heard Simon's voice grow louder and more angry, and I heard Richard calmly translate Simon's words to Spinoza.From time to time, the girls looked at Simon's face and frowned.Then, suddenly, they were gone, and I didn't need to stay awake anymore.I fell forward and fell asleep as the din of Spanish and English receded. Another hand shook me awake.It's Simon: Now you draw the tent.We are packing.He finally accepted the bargain.If he dares to change his mind again, I'll tear his damn head off! I tried to move my body in all directions, to move myself out of the tent, only to find myself very weak and frightened.Just as half of my body climbed out of the tent, my arms bent under me, and I fell to the side, unable to support myself.Simon gently lifted me up and pulled me into the sun. Simon, I can't bear to ride a mule.You don't know how weak I am. It's fine.We will help you. help me!I could barely stay awake, let alone sit up.How are you going to help me ride the mule?I need to rest.I really need it.I need to sleep and eat.I've only slept for three hours since coming down!I You have no choice.Gotta go today, that's all. I protested, but he ignored me.He walked over to the tent and brought the first aid kit.Richard brought me another cup of tea while Simon handed me the medicine.Then they moved away from me and set about dismantling the camp.I lay on my side and watched them work until I couldn't resist the strong feeling of weakness and became drowsy again.I was deeply terrified by the deterioration of my body, and I anxiously wondered if I had burned my body to the ground.I feel closer to death than when I descend alone.From the moment I knew someone was there to help, something inside me seemed to collapse.The thing that lifted my spirits and focused my energy was gone.Now I simply can't imagine being alone, let alone crawling!No goal to strive for, no pattern to follow, no voice.I thought with horror that without these things my life might be over.I struggled to stay awake, to fight drowsiness, to keep my eyes open, but drowsiness triumphed.I dozed off and on, awakened by muffled conversations in different languages, and then dozed off again, thinking only of stupor, collapse, and sleep from which I couldn't wake up. Simon came to me again, and it seemed like a long time again.I heard his voice talking to Richard and looked up.He stood beside me and inspected me with a worried expression on his face: Hi!How are you? Yes, I'm fine.I no longer resist leaving here. You don't look very well.We're about to go.If you sit up and try to pull yourself together, maybe it will be better.I'll make you some more tea. The idea of ​​pulling myself together makes me laugh.But I managed to sit up on my own.At last Spinoza led me his old mule, and Simon helped me to my feet.I leaned heavily on his shoulder and hopped over to the mule, which waited meekly.This old mule has a very farm style and looks peaceful, which gives me a little more confidence.I was about to raise my legs and put on the saddle when Richard suddenly yelled: Wait, Simon!We forgot about his money! So I began my search with shambling steps.Richard and Simon supported me from both sides. I directed them to help me from one rock to another.Spinoza and the girls looked at us suspiciously.We laughed happily, and finally found the pocket pocket, and we held it up for them to see.They smiled politely, apparently not understanding the importance of this tattered belt. On the mules were old western-style saddles with high pommels and rich silver inlays.The huge baotou stirrups are made of leather and are also carved with patterns.They bent the moisture-proof pad and put it on the saddle as a cushion, so that my injured leg would not touch the mule's belly.We set off down the river bed, walking steadily.Simon and Richard walked on either side of me, keeping an eye on me. Two days of exhaustion and soreness followed.I couldn't clench my legs to control the mule, and it kept crashing into every tree, every rock, every wall during the twenty-four-hour journey to Cajatambo.Even though Simon stopped it with sharpened snow stakes, it continued to stumble.I screamed feebly until the pain passed.But somehow, I didn't fall off.Familiar scenery passed me, but pain and fatigue made it impossible to see.At the end of each day, I throw a tantrum like a child.I no longer had the strength or the desperate ruthlessness to cope with the additional torture.I want this to end as soon as possible and I want to go home.Simon comforted me like a mother and helped me through it.He paced back and forth, urging the donkey drivers to speed up and reminding the mule drivers to be more careful.When I was about to fall off the saddle, attacked by drowsiness and weakness, he would come to me.He took my watch and stopped the line whenever it was time for me to take my medicine, handing me painkillers, lucos, antibiotics, and the obligatory tea.Mules cross towering passes, steep rocky valleys, and densely vegetated pampas.I kept falling asleep and waking up, more and more irritable.But Simon was always by my side.Whenever I was begging for a break, he would encourage me and let me squeeze every last bit of strength out of my body. We were embroiled in a feud at Cajatambo.First, Simon had a dispute with the police about hiring a pickup truck, and then a group of villagers wanted to climb into the back of the truck to hitchhike to Lima. Simon and Richard yelled at them to get out of the car.I was lying on a mattress in the back of the car, and I was in the shape of a big character.The car was about to drive away when a young man came over.He looked at me with sad eyes and saw the rough splint on my leg.That's when a police officer approached, with an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder, and stopped Richard from chasing the last villager out of the pickup truck. Sir, please help this man.His leg was badly injured.He has been waiting for six days.Please take him to the hospital, will you?said the young man. We turned our heads and saw the old man collapsed beside me, too shocked to speak.He looked at me with pleading eyes, his face grim with pain.He swung his hips and gently lifted the coarse cloth bag covering his legs.The crowd suddenly fell into a dead silence, and I clearly heard Simon gasped beside me.The man's legs were crushed to pieces.I glanced at the twisted legs, badly lacerated, bloodstained, and infected purple sores.He carefully put back the coarse cloth bag.There was a strong, sweet stench from the wound. God!I felt nauseous. It hurts badly.Right? Too serious!He is hopeless! Sorry, my English is no good It doesn't matter.We gave him a ride, and this man.I interrupt him. Thank you, gentlemen.You are such kind people. The truck driver is an alcoholic and serves copious amounts of beer along the way.The grueling drive back to Lima was filled with beer, cigarettes and painkillers, clouding the memory of those three days.We arrived at the hospital late at night.We learned that the old man could not afford such a good hospital, so we told them it was okay, paid the driver and instructed him to take the old man to a suitable hospital.Richard helped me out of the car, and Simon gave the old man's son the rest of our painkillers and antibiotics.The pickup truck drove into the sweltering Lima night.I was in a wheelchair and saw the old man thank us with a weak wave of his hand before the car disappeared around the corner. In our opinion, that hospital lagged behind surprisingly.But there were clean white sheets, and there was music playing in the ward.There are also beautiful nurses, too bad none of them speak English.They walked briskly, pushing my wheelchair through the green and white corridors.Simon hurriedly walked beside me to watch over me, never letting go.It was only then that the nurses began to understand how much we had been through. An hour later, the hospital forcefully asked Simon and Richard to leave.After the X-rays, my stinking mountaineering suit was stripped off and washed.I sat naked on the chair scale, and a beautiful nurse took my pulse, recorded my weight, and drew my blood.I turned to look at the scale and was taken aback.Less than fifty kilograms!My God, I lost nearly twenty kilograms!She smiled at me happily, then lifted me off the chair scale and gently put me in a vat of sterilized hot water.After processing, I was moved to bed.I fell asleep immediately.She returned an hour later, this time with a concerned doctor.He explained the blood test results to me, which sounded scary and complicated.The nurse stuck a needle in my wrist and put on a glucose drip.At night, I was awakened by a terrible nightmare.I dreamed of the crevasse and cried out in terror, drenched in sweat.Then the nurses came and comforted me kindly, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying. I lay there for two indescribable days.No food, no painkillers or antibiotics.They didn't condescend to operate on me until the telegram came, confirming my insurance.They came early in the morning.An hour before surgery, I had an injection in my hand, and I was back in my familiar state of weakness and confusion.Two men in masks and greens pushed me down a tiled hallway, muttering words I couldn't understand.The hallway seemed endless.It wasn't until I approached the operating room that my inner worries escalated into panic.I will never perform surgery here!Be sure to stop them.I must wait till I get home!For heaven's sake, don't let them have surgery. I don't want to have surgery. I said calmly.I feel like I've made it very clear, but they don't respond.Maybe it's the medicine that's making me slur my speech?I repeat what I just said.One of them nodded at me, but they didn't stop.It suddenly occurred to me that they could not understand English.I tried to sit up and someone pushed me back on the pillow.I yelled in panic, telling them to stop.As the trolley rattled through the door of the operating room, a man spoke Spanish to me in a beautiful voice.He wants to calm me down.But when I saw him check a hypodermic, I struggled desperately and half sat up. please.I don't A strong hand pushed me back.The other hand holds my arm, and I feel the slight sting of the needles entering the skin.I tried to lift my head, but somehow it seemed to be twice as heavy.I turned my head and saw a tray of surgical equipment.A bright light came on overhead, and the whole room began to spin before my eyes.I had to say something, I had to stop them.Darkness gradually replaced light.Slowly all the sounds were blurred, and finally everything returned to silence.