He breathed a sigh of relief, and checked the positions of the others. They were now getting near the top via their slow routes. He retrieved his rifle, but now where was his boot? It wasn’t in the disturbed snow around him. He cautiously approached the edge and peered over. Half way down the cliff-face, where the snow met the ice, the boot stuck out.
‘Damn,’ he said, as he realised he’d blown it.
‘What’s that?’ said Tom.
Zak decided that while it might be tough on the diplomat, he would have to borrow one of his boots. He took off the rucksack and quickly unpacked it, taking out the left one.
He pulled up the thick sock on his left foot, and found it was sopping wet. His health bar was down below fifty percent, and gradually slipping lower.
‘It would be a lot easier if you could feel these things,’ he muttered.
He put his foot into the boot, and it went all the way in without touching the sides. He lifted his foot up, but the boot only came up with his toes. It hung on them for a second, then slid off.
‘This boot’s massive!’ he cried. ‘I can’t carry on with this.’ He took the boot and slammed it into the ground in frustration.
‘What are you doing Zak?’ asked Van sternly.
‘I’ve messed up Van,’ said Zak sorrowfully. ‘I’ll have to go back down.’
He noticed Tom’s red star storming up the mountain. He’d reached the level of the cliff the long way round, and was now heading towards the castle.
‘Your new team-mates are going to love you,’ said Tom.
Zak felt pretty miserable as he packed up the rucksack. He wondered if he could make his way down gracefully. There was no need to fire the jets to go downhill. He lifted his left leg in the air, hopped over the edge of the cliff, and tumbled down the ice, ploughing into his boot with a thump.
