Perilous Peak

 Darren Roberts, Royal Marine, was unconscious, he was bound hand and foot and clad only in boxers and a sweat shirt. The evening was mild but as it got later, a chilly wind was rising. Darren shivered and opened his eyes. His first thoughts were; where the hell am I? He rolled over and looked about him. He was on a mountain top and he was almost naked his main concern was to get down and seek shelter before he got hypothermia.

Darren checked his bonds, they seemed to be made of tape and looked tough, but after rubbing the ones on his wrists against a lump of granite, a rip appeared and he was soon free. Quickly he began picking at the restraints on his ankles. They too parted and he stood up letting the blood run back into his hands and feet.

Looking down at the countryside that lay below him, he tried to plan a route down the mountain. Darren could see several cottages below him with lights in their windows, but they looked so far down that he knew that they might as well be on the Moon.

Darren carefully picked his niches and crannies to aid his descent. The peak was a solid block of granite and offered few footholds. The wind too didn’t help his descent but plucked at him and caused him to shiver.

Gradually he got of the peak and was faced with the lower faces which too sported large boulders and sparse vegetation. Darren slipped into a crevice to catch his breath and get out of the wind chill.

Swinging out under a rocky outcrop Darren was able to bypass a large overhang which had suddenly materialised out of the darkness. Bits of rock broke off as he made his descent and he could hear them crashing down the rock face below him.

A few straggly bushes gave him handholds but Darren was wary about putting his whole weight on to them in case they broke away.

As the dawn coloured the eastern sky, Darren was approaching the nursery slopes, the grass was soft underfoot and he headed towards some silver birch trees that grew in the damp soil. His vest was badly ripped and his boxers covered in mud where he had slipped. Surely, he thought, I will find shelter soon.

Looking back up, in the dawn light, from where he had climbed down from Darren recognised the Kerglas Maol, a mountain of over three thousand feet. He had climbed it two years ago with a climbing party.

Suddenly he heard voices and saw lights. Darren ducked down and hid behind a small bush. He waited trying to keep his heavy breathing as quiet as possible but a large hand pushed through the bush and gripped him by the shoulder. “You’re caught!” said a deep voice.

Standing up, Darren realised he was surrounded by five burly men. They shone torches in his face and laughed loudly when he tried to cover his eyes.

“OK you guys,” said Darren ruefully. “You got me, but which of you buggers got me drunk and left me almost naked on top of a mountain on my Stag Night?”