Holding On with Jamming

Screeeech.

The exoskeleton’s alloy frame let out a scream.

Beneath the collapsed cement debris, in a crevice between the cliffs above the dizzyingly deep abyss.

One arm of the powered suit, its barely extended fingertips wedged tightly like a nail, was barely supporting her heavy body against gravity.

According to the manual, it was a climbing technique called jamming…

There was no time to figure out if her memory was accurate.

Because she had just woken up after an unknown duration of loss of consciousness.

Trickling dark red blood soaked her eyelids, stinging them.

It was a falling rock.

She had taken a direct hit from a chunk of concrete that flew in from who knows where. At least, that was her guess...