Ama's Peak (entry to 2020 Flash Fiction Challenge)

AMA’S PEAK a short story by Leslie B. Patient

(NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2020 SUSPENSE/INDOOR CLIMBING GYM/PISTOL)



“Todd, why are we doing this?”


Krista crouched under the desk with her twin brother in the darkened office of Ama’s Peak, the Denver climbing gym they co-owned.

“Stay quiet. Trust me.”

Right then Krista knew Todd had done something stupid. Living in Nepal with their free-spirit Coloradan mom as children, one day Todd convinced an unwitting Belorussian to pay $250 for passage to Everest Base Camp. Krista acted as interference when the money transfer happened. “Trust me,” Todd had said. Their mother was good friends with town officials, so when the naive tourist climber realized he’d been duped, Officer Chaudry brought the children home instead of to jail. “Ama, it was all Todd’s idea.”

“Who are we hiding from?”
Todd put his finger over his lips. The front door smashed open.
Todd bumped his head on the desk. “Where did you put Mom’s gun?”
“Shithead. You know where it is.”
“Oh Fuck, right.”

Their mother’s Beretta Cougar Mini lay in a box just above the peak crevices of Annapurna Wall out in the gym. Krista and Todd agreed if they ever needed their mother’s protection they’d have to climb for it. Intelife Insurance never cracked Officer Chaudry. He insisted armed Bhutanese thieves had rampaged through the region. All Krista and Todd knew was their mother was already cremated when their Denver flight landed in Kathmandu. Three years later as UBoulder graduates, Intelife paid the half-million policy. Four months later they got a certified package from Officer Chaudry containing Ama’s pistol, with one ten-round .9mm cartridge, nine rounds remaining.





“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, COWARD?” The intruder clamored around the entrance. Krista and Todd saw his cell phone flashlight scoping the gym.
Todd clenched his fingers into Krista’s thighs.
“He’s going to kill me.”
“Who?” Krista grabbed Todd’s wrists.
“Gino Smaldone.” Todd’s face was two inches from Krista’s.
“Gaetano’s Gino?” Todd’s face belied a similar terror when the Bellorussian tourist threatened to break Todd’s legs. “You didn’t!”
Krista warned Todd after seeing how chummy he was with his Tuesday afternoon private climbing lesson.Tina Smaldone was married to the owner of Gaetano’s Pizzeria, notorious for his drunken rages. Todd hadn’t listened.
“If we can get to the closet, the back half opens to the gym.” They bellycrawled toward the closet.
“Climber boy!” Large steel-toed kicks into the office door reverberated. Todd and Krista shut the closet door behind them just as the office door came crashing open.
“You are paying for new doorlocks, asshole.” Krista hit her brother in the back of the head then shimmied along the perimeter heading to back exit before the drunken Italian Stallion heard them out there.
Gino’s cell phone flashlight swept the gym again landing right on Todd’s legs as Todd dove behind the pile of mats.
Krista first thought she would get herself out and leave her brother to fend for himself. She slid past the Anapurna wall before getting to the back exit. She felt the bottom handholds, knowing what she must do, unable to block out her mother’s answer to her plea some fifteen years ago.

“It was all Todd’s idea.” Ama took Krista’s face in her hands, “I know, honey, and I’m so glad you will always be there to keep him safe.”

Krista had climbed the A-wall blind-folded once, but never free solo. Todd and Gino scuffled through all the floor equipment.
Focus, she thought. 22 handholds, 15 footholds, she reminded herself. She could almost make out the second half of the wall from the streetlights coming through the transom windows.
“You freakin’ punk!” Gino’s voice echoed through the gym.
Slow and steady, Krista thought, that’s the key to free solo. Just keep moving. Her legs shook. Keep moving, Krista willed herself. Gino laughed manaically.
“Climber Boy? Scrambling up a wall? I’ll still get you.”
“I never touched Tina! I promise. Never.” Todd’s voice was shaky.
Krista wanted to turn toward the shouting but knew her mission and was only four handholds away. Mats and chairs were thrown at the wall parallel to her. One struck its target and Todd hit the ground with a thud, a moan, and a “fucking goddamn”.
Adrenalin coursed through Krista’s final leg push. No box. She reminded herself how far right she must have started the climb. Reaching further left she found the corner of the box, not having yet thought how she was going to bring the box back down to the ground.

The sound of fists to flesh jolted Krista. She pulled off her tank top, trying to tie a knot at the bottom with her teeth and left hand. She slipped the tanktop backpack on her shoulders the Beretta box corners cutting into her low back as she felt blindly for the footholds below. Perspiration streamed down her temples. 15, reach, 14, and 13. Her eyes were adjusting enough to see the dark green of the rubber floor. As Krista jumped she heard Todd scream.

“Fuck, man, my face. Is that a fucking knife?” More scuffling and Krista heard Todd over by Kidz Korner making a mat barricade.

At the closet, Krista flipped all the switches flooding the gym in light. As she fumbled with the Beretta clip she pulled the safety but forgot the hair-trigger and a shot rang across the gym hitting the mat wall Todd was constructing.

“The fuck? Krista?”
Gino dropped to the ground his hands covering his head.
“Mr. Smaldone. I won’t hurt you. Just get the hell out of here and never come back. We’ll refund Tina’s subscription.” Gino scrambled to his feet and ran out the door.
Todd slowly came back from around the mats.

“You don’t get paid until all of this is repaired.” While Krista pulled the clip out of the Beretta she picked up Gino’s bloody switchblade. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I probably need stitches.” Todd held his bloody cheek. “It might scar.”

“Hope so.” Krista placed Ama’s Beretta back in its box, eight rounds remaining.