Page 74
Story: Wandering Wild
“Don’t do that,” I say sternly, since I know she’s only checking to make sure it can hold my weight.
A violent gust of wind steals her reply, causing us both to latch onto the threadbare ropes with white-knuckled grips as the whole bridge sways around us.
“Find a happy place, find a happy place,” Charlie chants under her breath once the wind eases enough for us to continue.
When we reach the three-quarter mark, I start to feel tentatively hopeful that we might actually survive this without anything traumatic happening. But just as I have that thought, the gaps between the wood begin to spread even further apart, with some planks missing entirely, while others are broken and dangling vertically into the empty space beneath us. We’re left with no choice but to leap the ever-growing distances, placing all our trust in the decaying rope-railing to bear our weight as we do so.
“A safety line would be arealcomfort right about now,” Charlie grits out as she jumps a two-foot gap that offers a view straight down to the churning river below.
My hands are stinging from rope burn, causing me to hiss when I leap after her and say, “If Hawke were here, he might have made us do it without the safety line anyway. What’s the point if we’re not risking death? There’s no fun in that.”
Charlie utters a strained chuckle. “Especially when the cameras are rolling. Gotta entertain the viewers.”
“Reality television is nothing if not dramatic,” I agree, flinching when the wood groans angrily under my feet. I jump to the next plank just as my previous one crumples and falls, the sight of it plunging down into the rapids prompting a wave of nausea in me.
“You okay?” Charlie asks, having heard the noise.
I don’t want to worry her, so I answer, somewhat weakly, “All good.”
But then?—
“Do you feel that?” Charlie whispers.
I don’t merely feel it—Ihearit. A mix of tearing, squeaking, and snapping that accompanies everything around us shaking.
This time, it’s not the wind.
I spin around and find the cause immediately, dread filling me at the sight of the worn-out ropes unraveling behind us, our combined weight causing too much strain on the connections.
The bridge is falling apart.
And we’re still too far away from safety.
“GO!” I bellow. “Go, go,go!”
Charlie’s eyes widen as she turns and sees the danger. The next second, she’s leaping forward, with me right on her heels. We’re reckless now, unable to take the care we need while the bridge begins collapsing around us.
We leap from plank to plank, the wood cracking beneath our feet. My boot goes straight through one board that splinters on impact, and I only keep from falling with it because of my grip on the railing—but the railing is starting to loosen as the ropes continue tearing, taking any security we have with them.
“Hurry!” I urge Charlie.
A quick glance over my shoulder reveals the entire bridge is buckling now, like a giant wave, the ropes snapping free of their connections, the wood falling and crashing into the river beneath us.
“Watch out!” Charlie cries, and I face forward again just in time to see the plank she’s on crumble. My heart lodges in my throat, but she manages to get clear in time, and I use my momentum to soar the extra distance to the next safe plank, staying as close to her as I can as we sprint dangerously fast across the last remaining length of the bridge.
We’re so near to the end now that hope surges in me once more—only a few more steps until we’re safe—but then the loudestSNAP!of them all has the entire bridge losing its suspension as the ropes give way completely.
“JUMP!” I yell.
Charlie is one plank ahead of me and she pushes off the wood in the split second before the bridge loses all tension, using her velocity to fly through the air and land in a tumbling, rolling heap atop the side of the gorge.
I’m not so lucky.
The wood beneath me gives way before I can attempt a powerful enough jump, and I realize mid-leap that I’m not going to make it. There’s a weightless feeling for all of two seconds before I slam painfully into the rocky escarpment, my hands scrambling for purchase as gravity tries to pull me down the jagged slope and into the raging river far below.
I’m hanging on by my fingertips, and for one optimistic moment, I think I’ll be okay as I start to pull myself up. But then the rock crumbles beneath my hands, turning to dust in my grip, and suddenly, I’m falling.
My life doesn’t flash before my eyes. I almost wish it would, if only to distract me from the overwhelming grief I feel at everything I’m about to lose. I’ll never get to make up with Maddox, never see Summer or my adoptive parents or Gabe again, never know what might have happened withTitan’s War, never get to tell Charlie how I?—
A violent gust of wind steals her reply, causing us both to latch onto the threadbare ropes with white-knuckled grips as the whole bridge sways around us.
“Find a happy place, find a happy place,” Charlie chants under her breath once the wind eases enough for us to continue.
When we reach the three-quarter mark, I start to feel tentatively hopeful that we might actually survive this without anything traumatic happening. But just as I have that thought, the gaps between the wood begin to spread even further apart, with some planks missing entirely, while others are broken and dangling vertically into the empty space beneath us. We’re left with no choice but to leap the ever-growing distances, placing all our trust in the decaying rope-railing to bear our weight as we do so.
“A safety line would be arealcomfort right about now,” Charlie grits out as she jumps a two-foot gap that offers a view straight down to the churning river below.
My hands are stinging from rope burn, causing me to hiss when I leap after her and say, “If Hawke were here, he might have made us do it without the safety line anyway. What’s the point if we’re not risking death? There’s no fun in that.”
Charlie utters a strained chuckle. “Especially when the cameras are rolling. Gotta entertain the viewers.”
“Reality television is nothing if not dramatic,” I agree, flinching when the wood groans angrily under my feet. I jump to the next plank just as my previous one crumples and falls, the sight of it plunging down into the rapids prompting a wave of nausea in me.
“You okay?” Charlie asks, having heard the noise.
I don’t want to worry her, so I answer, somewhat weakly, “All good.”
But then?—
“Do you feel that?” Charlie whispers.
I don’t merely feel it—Ihearit. A mix of tearing, squeaking, and snapping that accompanies everything around us shaking.
This time, it’s not the wind.
I spin around and find the cause immediately, dread filling me at the sight of the worn-out ropes unraveling behind us, our combined weight causing too much strain on the connections.
The bridge is falling apart.
And we’re still too far away from safety.
“GO!” I bellow. “Go, go,go!”
Charlie’s eyes widen as she turns and sees the danger. The next second, she’s leaping forward, with me right on her heels. We’re reckless now, unable to take the care we need while the bridge begins collapsing around us.
We leap from plank to plank, the wood cracking beneath our feet. My boot goes straight through one board that splinters on impact, and I only keep from falling with it because of my grip on the railing—but the railing is starting to loosen as the ropes continue tearing, taking any security we have with them.
“Hurry!” I urge Charlie.
A quick glance over my shoulder reveals the entire bridge is buckling now, like a giant wave, the ropes snapping free of their connections, the wood falling and crashing into the river beneath us.
“Watch out!” Charlie cries, and I face forward again just in time to see the plank she’s on crumble. My heart lodges in my throat, but she manages to get clear in time, and I use my momentum to soar the extra distance to the next safe plank, staying as close to her as I can as we sprint dangerously fast across the last remaining length of the bridge.
We’re so near to the end now that hope surges in me once more—only a few more steps until we’re safe—but then the loudestSNAP!of them all has the entire bridge losing its suspension as the ropes give way completely.
“JUMP!” I yell.
Charlie is one plank ahead of me and she pushes off the wood in the split second before the bridge loses all tension, using her velocity to fly through the air and land in a tumbling, rolling heap atop the side of the gorge.
I’m not so lucky.
The wood beneath me gives way before I can attempt a powerful enough jump, and I realize mid-leap that I’m not going to make it. There’s a weightless feeling for all of two seconds before I slam painfully into the rocky escarpment, my hands scrambling for purchase as gravity tries to pull me down the jagged slope and into the raging river far below.
I’m hanging on by my fingertips, and for one optimistic moment, I think I’ll be okay as I start to pull myself up. But then the rock crumbles beneath my hands, turning to dust in my grip, and suddenly, I’m falling.
My life doesn’t flash before my eyes. I almost wish it would, if only to distract me from the overwhelming grief I feel at everything I’m about to lose. I’ll never get to make up with Maddox, never see Summer or my adoptive parents or Gabe again, never know what might have happened withTitan’s War, never get to tell Charlie how I?—
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90