Playing with Fire

by April Henry

  With a scream, Jason toppled over, landing on his back. Wyatt kicked the bear spray away as Marco, Beatriz, and Darryl pinned his legs. While Jason whimpered, Wyatt used the parachute cord to tie his ankles together.

  After Wyatt finished, it was like the last bit of fight had gone out of Jason. He lay on his back, cradling his arm and moaning. His eyes were closed, but moisture shone around them. Natalia took a quick look at his collarbone, just long enough to ascertain that it was broken and it wasn’t going to kill him.

  “Now what?” Marco asked as she did.

  “Now we’ve got two problems,” Wyatt said. “How to get across the canyon and what to do about Jason. Since he’s not going anywhere, let’s figure out the canyon first.”

  Lisa and Ryan tried to calm Trask while the others ignored the trussed-up Jason, walking past him to stare down at the canyon and what was left of the bridge once spanning it.

  All that remained was the metal skeleton. On the other side of the chasm, tantalizingly close, was the trail, a clear path through untouched trees. But in between was a sixty-foot drop. At the bottom was a narrow river, the water churning and white. The walls of the slot canyon both contained the river and increased its power by concentrating it.

  “It’s like Sky Bridge without the gate,” Natalia said.

  Lisa shook her head. “It’s like Sky Bridge without the bridge.”

  “So near and yet so far,” Beatriz said. The gap was only about thirty feet wide. But it might as well have been thirty miles.

  “What are we going to do now?” Darryl sounded exhausted. “We can’t get over that.”

  AJ looked back at the fire. “Well, we can’t go back.”

  “Could we just wait here to be rescued?” Beatriz asked. “They have to be looking for us.”

  “For all the authorities know, we got burned up last night,” Wyatt said. “It’s going to take a long time for them to figure out where everyone is. Besides, I don’t think we can really afford to wait.”

  Natalia snuck a glance at Zion. While his face was much less swollen, it was still puffy. If he started to get worse—which she knew was a possibility—they could try giving him one more dose from the EpiPen. But that was it. An overdose of epinephrine could kill him just as easily as could anaphylactic shock.

  “Has anyone tried their phones recently?” Lisa said hopefully. But when they checked, nearly all of them were completely dead: battery drained or killed by the swim across the lake. Only Ryan’s and Darryl’s phones still powered on. And both of them showed “No Service.”

  “It’s not that far to the trail, really,” Wyatt said slowly. “All we need to do is get on the other side.”

  “What do you mean, ‘all we need to do’?” Ryan echoed. “Unless we suddenly sprout wings, it’s impossible.”

  Wyatt’s eyes traced the lines of the bridge. “It’s not like it’s totally gone.” It was true the metal framework was still there. But the wooden floorboards and sides had burned up, leaving just a series of open metal squares, each about six feet on a side. Each square was braced diagonally by another piece of steel. Taken together, the diagonal braces made a zigzag pattern the length of the bridge.

  “Yeah, but the important parts are gone.” Darryl’s laugh was like a bark. “The parts that you walk on.”

  “But the framework’s steel, and it survived,” Wyatt said. “It’s still got the handrails and the bottom chords of the truss—the pieces that run parallel to the handrails. It’s still got the diagonals and the cross struts that were the floor beams.” Each of the pieces he named was about six inches wide.

  Marco shook his head. “Who cares if it has the floor beams? It doesn’t have the actual floor!”

  As if he hadn’t heard, Wyatt said, “If we held on to the top chord—the handrail—and shuffled along the bottom chord, then we could step around the posts and the braces and get to the other side.”

  “That’s a pretty big if.” AJ looked pale. “Look at how far down it is. One missed step and you’d die.”

  “Let me think this through.” Wyatt unbuckled the strap of the child carrier and set it down between Lisa and Ryan. “Maybe we could do it like this.” Setting his right foot on the bottom chord, toes facing away from the bridge, he grabbed on to the handrail. He stepped up with the other foot.

  Even though at that point the drop beneath his feet was less than a yard, it felt like someone had just put a hand around Natalia’s heart and squeezed. He leaned forward over the hip-high handrail, bent at about a forty-five-degree angle, and rested his hands lightly on either side.

  Wyatt took a sideways step and then moved his trailing foot to meet the first. Two more shuffling steps brought him to the point where the first post, diagonal, and cross strut met at the bottom chord. He lifted his right foot and carefully placed it on the other side of the post, leaving room for his left to join it.

  Her hand across her mouth, Natalia barely breathed as he inched farther and farther away. Moving carefully but quickly, Wyatt made it all the way to the far side of the bridge in less than two minutes. Jumping off, he raised his fists in triumph. His whoop carried clearly to them. Instead of answering with their own cheer, the people on the near side of the bridge just tossed anxious glances back and forth. Then Wyatt stepped back up on the bridge, reversed direction, and sidestepped over to them.

  “Guys! We can definitely do it!”

  Natalia was already shaking her head. “No. I don’t think I can do that.” She took a step back. “Everyone will just have to go on without me.”

  CHAPTER 34

  VIGILANTES

  10:46 A.M.

  “I’M WITH NATALIA.” AJ looked pale. “It’s too dangerous. One wrong step and that would be all she wrote.”

  “I swear it’s not that hard. The handrail’s really solid, and you can lean your hips into it.”

  When she looked at the skeleton of the bridge, Natalia didn’t see the sturdy bones Wyatt had felt comfortable scampering across. She saw the open spaces in between.

  Darryl snorted. “Not that hard for you. You’re an eighteen-year-old Eagle Scout in great shape.” He waved his hand to indicate the rest of them. “But we’ve got old people, kids, folks who are injured … even a dog.”

  After a moment’s silence, Wyatt held out his hand. “Marco, can I see the leash?”

  Marco unslung it from around his neck and handed it to him. Blue trotted over as if expecting Wyatt to clip it to his collar. He sat down, raised his head, and waited expectantly.

  Wyatt grabbed the leash in his fists and pulled hard. It was round, about three-quarters of an inch thick, black with a white reflective thread spiraling around it. One end had a padded handle, and the other was finished with a silver clip.

  “This feels a lot like a climbing rope.” After feeding the clip end through the handle to make a circle, he hooked it to his belt loop. He gave an experimental tug, then pulled hard enough the muscles in his arm stood out. “Maybe we could use this to clip ourselves to the bridge?”

  “But not everyone’s got belt loops,” Beatriz said, examining the smooth waistband of her shorts.

  Wyatt found the flaw in his own idea. “Even if they did, it would mean undoing and redoing it every time you reached a post.” He counted. “Six times.”

  “That’s five times too many,” Darryl shook his head. “It would be too easy for someone to lose their balance any time they unclipped themselves. And I’m not having my grandson out there by himself, fumbling with the only thing that’s keeping him from falling off those pieces of metal that used to be a bridge.”

  Wyatt looked down at the loop he had made with the leash. “How about this? What if I put the leash around each person’s waist, clipped them to me, and then escorted them over? And if for some reason they slipped, they’d still be clipped to me and I could help them regain their balance.”

  “So it’d be like belaying someone on a rock wall,” Ryan said.

  “Exactly.” Wyatt nodde
d.

  Ryan grunted. “Except the belayer always has his feet on the ground. He’s not climbing the wall right next to you. What’s to stop both of you from falling off?”

  “I’ll be holding on to the handrail the whole time.” Wyatt sounded confident. “And so will the other person. The leash is just a precaution.”

  “That means you’d be going back and forth a dozen times.” Beatriz pointed out. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “Heights don’t really bother me.”

  AJ ran his hand down his face, still dotted with bee stings, and then sighed. “I think it’s the best plan we’re going to come up with. And even though I don’t like the idea at all, I trust Wyatt. He’s gotten us this far.”

  Most of the others nodded or were at least silent as they weighed their bad choices.

  “What about Trask?” Lisa demanded. “I will not have you putting his life at risk a dozen times!”

  “No worries,” Wyatt said. “I’ll take him over just by himself once there are people on the other side to watch him.”

  Marco pointed at Jason with his chin. He was now sitting up, cradling his arm, head down and eyes closed. “We also need to figure out what to do about him.”

  Darryl straightened his shoulders. “I say we leave him here.” His mouth was a grim line. “Leave him here to deal with whatever nature decides to do to him.”

  Jason lifted his head and opened his eyes as Zion’s jaw dropped. He tugged on Darryl’s pants. “Grandpa, no!”

  Beatriz raised her voice. “We can’t do that.”

  “It would be poetic justice,” Lisa said.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan said.

  “He’s the reason we’re all here,” AJ said. “But even so…” His voice trailed off.

  Only Susan was quiet, her eyes going from speaker to speaker. But her expression was quizzical, like they were all speaking a foreign language.

  “Look.” Wyatt raised his hands. “When we get to safety, we’ll let law enforcement figure out what should happen to Jason. We’re not a bunch of vigilantes.”

  “Wyatt’s right,” Marco said.

  Jason spoke up, startling all of them. “No, Darryl’s right. Just leave me here. I’m not worth it.” His voice cracked. “Plus I can’t use my arm.”

  Natalia corrected him. “A broken collarbone hurts, that’s for sure. But if he doesn’t have to put his full weight on it or raise it overhead, I think he could get over.”

  “And Blue?” Marco asked.

  They all stared at the dog. He looked from face to face, as if figuring out which person was going to play with him. Then Susan patted her knee and he trotted over. He butted her gently with his head, tilting his head to encourage her to scratch behind his ears.

  Wyatt blew air through pursed lips. “I can think of two possibilities. One is we put him in Trask’s carrier after Trask is on the other side. The other is I empty a pack and put his rear legs inside.”

  “Will he sit still for any of that?” Lisa looked skeptical.

  Beatriz spoke up. “My sister’s kids are always doing weird things to him, like putting him in hats or riding on his back. He just sits there and lets them. So he might sit still for this.”

  “Whatever we do,” Marco said, “I should be the one to carry him. He’s a pretty chill dog, but this is going to be a challenge even for him.”

  “Then you start figuring out how to carry him and I’ll start taking people over.” Wyatt turned to Natalia. “Since you don’t like heights, I think I should take you first.”

  “First?” Natalia laughed disbelievingly. “Why?”

  “Because the longer you wait, the more scared you’ll be.” He leaned closer and whispered for her ears alone. “And I need you to show the others it’ll work.”

  CHAPTER 35

  THE BITTERNESS OF FEAR

  10:56 A.M.

  NATALIA UNBUCKLED WYATT’S BACKPACK and set it down. Then Wyatt stepped close, opening his arms as if to hug her. He passed the leash from one hand to another, wrapping it around her waist. He was so close she could have kissed him, but only a small part of her mind registered that. The rest was too numbed by fear to think.

  By threading the clip through the handle, he again made a lasso, which he pulled snug around her waist. Then Wyatt fastened the leash to his belt loop and stepped back. There was about eighteen inches of leash between them.

  “See if that holds.”

  She tried to step farther back, but the leash wouldn’t let her. Next she dropped to her knees. The leash stretched tight, holding her suspended just above the ground.

  Taking her hand, Wyatt pulled her back to a standing position. “Let’s go.”

  And before Natalia could argue she wasn’t ready or someone else should be first, Wyatt was walking to the bridge and she was following.

  He stepped out on the bottom chord, leaving just enough room for her. As she joined him, a jolt of fear ran up her spine.

  Mirroring Wyatt, she rested her forearms on the handrail, cupping her hands around the edge, hinging at the waist so her hip bones pressed into the warm metal edge. It didn’t feel as precarious as it had looked when she was watching Wyatt. But of course, it was easy to think that when she could simply reverse course and jump back down on the ground.

  “Okay, here we go.” He took a sideways step.

  Tugged along by the leash, Natalia followed. She was sweating so much that her shirt clung to her back like plastic wrap.

  Another step. “You’re doing great!” Wyatt said.

  His words were more like distant sounds. Natalia’s focus had narrowed to the two strips of sun-heated metal—one underneath her feet and one under her hands—that were the only things between her and death.

  After two more sets of sideways steps, Wyatt said, “Okay, here’s the first post. I’m going to step around and then I’ll help you over.” When he did, the leash went tight, cutting into her waist. “Now put your hand here.” Gently grasping her wrist, he guided her right hand to the correct spot. “That’s good. It’s just on the other side of the post. Great. Now move your right foot.”

  A whimper escaped her clenched teeth as she carefully transferred herself to the far side of the post. Her boots felt so stiff and unwieldy. Stiffness had been good for walking over rocks and roots, but now when she needed to maintain contact with the bottom chord it was a drawback.

  “You’re doing great, Natalia. You really are.”

  Wyatt kept shuffling sideways and she kept following, even though each step was taking her farther away from safety. Her palms were so wet they slipped along the handrail. What if she completely lost purchase? What if just thinking about slipping off was making it more likely she would slip?

  Wyatt’s voice was as calm as a hypnotist’s. “Try focusing your gaze on your hands or maybe your feet.”

  But it was all too easy to look past her hands or feet. To look past them to white waters where she would die. His words reminded her of Dr. Paris. “Five things you can see,” she muttered to herself.

  “What’d you say?” Wyatt asked. They were already at the next post. She resisted the crazy urge to turn to look at the empty space behind them. It felt like a vacuum sucking at her. Like an open airlock on a space ship.

  “I’m trying to do that thing my therapist taught me, where you find five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste.” Gradually, they were falling into a rhythm, like a sideways sack race. His right foot, his left together with her right, then her left.

  “Okay, then tell me five things you can see.”

  “The handrail, the post we just passed, your hand”—she was already running out of things it was a good idea to look at closely—“the ashes smeared on your skin, and um, the bee sting on your wrist.”

  “We’re more than halfway there,” he said as they stepped around another post. “So four things you can touch?”

  She forced hers
elf to think. “Your hand. The leash. The post. And I can feel how heavy my boots are.”

  For a second, he squeezed her hand, and then moved it past another post. “Three things you can hear?”

  “My breathing. Your breathing.” Hers was too fast, his slow and steady. “Um, and far away, I can hear the fire. And I don’t know if this counts, but I can even hear my own heart beating in my ears.”

  “We’ve only got one more post. And I didn’t even get a chance to ask you about smell and taste.”

  “I think right now neither one of us should focus on smells.” She could smell them both, her body odor a sour note to Wyatt’s sharp and spicy scent.

  “Fair point.”

  And her tongue was still coated with the bitterness of fear, even though they had reached the end of the bridge.

  “Okay. We made it! Good job! Want to jump off together?”

  Natalia was not capable of jumping. She set one foot on solid ground, then the other. Her knees went weak and she felt herself began to sag. Suddenly Wyatt’s arms were wrapped around her for real, holding her up. Holding her close.

  “You did it,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you. You—”

  And then he couldn’t talk anymore because Natalia was kissing him. His mouth was soft and hard at the same time. She felt herself catch fire. His teeth bumped hers. She put her hands on either side of his face.

  From the other side of the bridge came the sounds of clapping and cheering, even a whistle. They barely registered.

  Finally the two of them broke for air, both of them breathing heavily. Natalia wondered if her eyes looked as glazed as Wyatt’s did.

  After a long moment, he undid the leash from his belt, then slipped it off her.

  In a halfway decent Terminator impression, Wyatt growled, “I’ll be back.”