* *
OLIVE’S EYES FLEW OPEN. She had been dreaming again about falling. Down, down, down into that misty abyss. The nightmare had been so real that she still had the smell of the swamp in her nostrils. She could even feel a breeze on her face.
She lay for a moment, breathing deeply as she tried to calm her racing heart.
What was that creaking sound? She couldn’t place it. The ceiling fan, maybe?
“Don’t move,” a male voice said nearby.
That brought her fully awake. She started to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder eased her back down and she realized another hand had clamped around her wrist. Panic exploded. Her instinct was to lash out at the intruder, to fight him off with every ounce of strength she could muster, but she was suddenly aware of her surroundings. That creak didn’t come from any ceiling fan. She wasn’t even in her bedroom. She was—
“Where am I?” she gasped, as her whole world tilted.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” The voice was deep and silky smooth. Olive found it at once soothing and terrifying.
“Got me...where?”
“You know the old bridge over Pine Lake?”
“Yes, I know it...” She trailed away as she tried to peer through the darkness. A light glimmered somewhere below her. She felt compelled to turn and stare into the beam, but the swaying sensation and the hand on her shoulder kept her immobile. “I’m on the bridge?”
“More or less,” the voice said.
Terror surged as she pictured the gaping holes in the rotting floorboards and the unstable framework towering over her. The image dizzied her and she had to suppress the urge to flail her arms, searching for a handhold.
Now she understood the creaking and swaying.
“You have to stay calm, okay? I’m not going to let you fall, but you need to do exactly as I say.”
“Fall?” She started to tremble.
“We’re going to get you down, but it’ll take some maneuvering.”
“Why can’t I just stand up and walk off the bridge?” she asked in a quivering voice.
“You’re not exactly on the bridge. You’re on top of it.”
“On top of it?”
“On top of the truss.”
“That’s impossible.” But even as she protested, she realized the feathery forms all around her were the tops of cypress trees. She could feel the night air on her face and the hardness of the support beneath her. The nightmarish sensation of falling gripped her again and she said in a terrified whisper, “Please don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
Somehow she believed him. “How did I get up here?”
“You tell me.”
“Sometimes I sleepwalk. I have these falling dreams—”
“You’re not going to fall. If you go, I go and I’m not in the mood for a swim. So here’s what I need you to do. Right now, you’re lying on your left side facing out toward the water. Take a moment to get your bearings.”
“I can see cypress trees. There’s a light somewhere below us—”
“Don’t look down. Stay focused on the task at hand. Listen to me carefully. I need you to roll to your stomach, but there’s not a lot of space to operate. I’d say about a foot, give or take.”
She put out a hand and felt nothing but air. “I can’t. There isn’t enough room.”
“If there’s room enough for you to curl up and sleep, there’s enough room for you to roll over. Besides, you’re small. You don’t need much space.”
“I can’t. Please don’t make me.”
He was silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”
“Olive Belmont.”
“Olive? As in Nathan Bolt’s cousin?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes. You know Nathan?”
“We go back. Listen to me, Olive. We’re going to do this together, okay? I’m right here with you. You’ll be able to see me in a moment. Put your right hand on the support and clamp your fingers around the edge. Do the same with your left as you slowly position yourself facedown.”
Olive clutched the edge, but she didn’t roll over. Not for the longest time. Then drawing a breath, she slowly shifted her body. The rafter rocked and the whole frame seemed to shimmy. She froze. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. This bridge isn’t going anywhere. Just take your time. That’s it. Nice and easy.”
Olive tried to ignore the metallic screeches and the disorienting sway of the structure beneath her. Instead, she let that soothing voice guide her as she maneuvered her hands and body until she lay face down on the support, still breathing hard and trembling.
“Good job. Now you’re going to get on your hands and knees and slowly crawl toward me. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t look down, look at me. Whenever you’re ready.”
Olive rose on hands and knees, balancing herself on the precarious beam. The light from below provided enough illumination so that she could see the silhouette of the man facing her.
“Follow me, Olive. Nice and slow. We’re in no hurry. We have all night.”
His voice flowed over her, so honeyed, so comforting in the dark. She could see the gleam of his eyes, the curve of his jaw. He seemed very steady on the rafter. Not the least bit afraid.
She drew a deep breath and released it. “I’m ready.”
They began to move slowly, inch by inch toward the end of the bridge. He had the more difficult job because he was maneuvering backward on the unsteady support. He didn’t look over his shoulder or down at the water. He kept his eyes trained on Olive. She tried to do the same. She didn’t dare look out over the lake. She didn’t dare peer down into that misty abyss.
“Almost there. You’re doing great, but I need you to stay focused, okay? I need you to stay calm.” He came to a halt and she did the same. His eyes gleamed in the dark as he held her gaze. “Now comes the tricky part.”
“The tricky part?” she echoed faintly.
“We’re going to lower ourselves over the side. The braces form a sort of ladder at the end of the horizontal beam. I imagine that’s how you got up here.”
“I don’t remember.”
“It’s
