"Edith was too damn selfish to ever kill herself," Shipton growled. He swung his ice ax into the wall in front of him, dug in the toes of his crampons and began to ascend toward Dean.
It was no match. Dean, absent any tools for pulling himself upward was limited to using the rope, hand over hand, impossibly slow compared to the man now pursuing him. Each pull upward would require Dean to release his grasp on the line that secured him should he slip and fall backwards! Dean had no doubt about Shipton's ultimate intention. He tried to move laterally, away to his right, but the gnarled branches of a now-dead bush blocked his path.
Shipton swung his ice ax again, inching up closer to Dean. "She would have killed me if she could have, wouldn't she? Fair is fair." He swung the ax once more, now only half a body length away.
"Shipton! You don't get it, do you? You're line was cut!"
Shipton paid him no mind. One tug on the rope confirmed to Dean his sole route of escape was down, not up. He closed his eyes briefly and began loosening his tight grip on the line, readying himself to rappel downward. Glancing over his shoulder at his advancing pursuer, he knew he'd have to drop far enough and rapidly enough to pass Shipton before the killer could swing out with his deadly ax. He had no idea if he possessed the strength to stop his fall once the loosened slack had expired.
Shipton's ax bit the ice scarcely a foot below Dean as the man glared up at him, a snarl on his face. It was now, if it was to be at all. Dean released his grip and dropped backward into space. The line burned across his shoulders and exposed neck. When the stopping jolt came, it nearly knocked the wind out of him with its abruptness, but he'd fallen only to the level of Shipton's knees. Shipton flailed out at him with his ax, missing his head by inches as Dean leaned sideways and frantically fumbled with his line to drop again. Shipton, sensing now that Dean had not simply fallen, began to work at the ring on his harness where his line was secured.
Dean dropped once more with the same bone-jarring result, this time slamming against the cliff-side with his entire right side and arm. Searing pain shot through his shoulder and he realized he barely had the strength to halt another rappel. Shipton leaned to his right and began to chip away at a large outcrop of ice directly above Dean, laughing as a loosened piece tumbled downward, striking Dean's exposed head, nearly knocking him senseless. Shipton continued to chop, as if deciding this and not a direct blow from the ice ax was a far better way to remove this annoying impediment to his foolproof plan.