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‘Breathe steady.’ Becker calls. ‘Breathe through your moves.’
I watch the beam as I bring my knee up to my chest, angling it so I don’t trigger the beam above. Keeping my arms close to my body, I dip and place my foot on the other side, straddling it.
‘Clever girl,’ he praises with sincere pride.
My breathing has now fallen into a calm, steady rhythm, and my muscles are no longer tense. I find I can roll under the next two beams, step over another three, and bend my body to clear two more, but when I make it over halfway, I find I can do none of those things on my next move. The beams are spaced more tightly and there’s a huge dresser blocking the other way. If I try to move it, I’ll trigger a sensor. There’s no way past. I look from side-to-side, searching for another route. There must be one, unless Becker has purposely set me up to fail. But no. Whatever he wants to give me, he really wants to give me.
‘There’s a way, princess,’ he says, distracting me from my search. He nods, affirming what he’s told me. I shouldn’t have looked at him standing there waiting for me, beautifully bare.
I close my eyes and fight to relocate my focus. ‘How many more beams do I need to clear?’
‘Just three if you go the right way,’ he answers. Three. Just three? I’m over halfway and it’s taken me nine moves to get here. How? I open my eyes and re-evaluate my position. I’m definitely not going forward, and if I go back, it’ll take way more than three moves to make it to him. The dresser. I gaze up to the top of it, estimating it to be roughly four feet taller than me. That has to be it. It’s almost impossible to determine whether there’s a way forward from there, not until I reach the top, but it’s my only option. There are three drawers at the bottom and shelves spanning the rest of the way up. And there is only one beam hitting the wood, halfway up to the right. I open the middle drawer and rest my foot on it, applying only a little bit of my weight, testing the stability. It’s a Georgian dresser. Solid and sturdy. It must be nearly three hundred years old and has probably withstood a lot more than little old me playing Spider-Man on it. I take the sides and jiggle tentatively, happy with the lack of movement, and then push my weight off the floor, bringing my other foot up to the drawer. I spend a few moments ensuring I’m steady, before having a quick check for the beams. Then I make my next move, hauling my body up onto the first shelf. The huge dresser remains firm, keeping me safe. I’m desperate to have a quick peek to my right to find Becker, but I fight off the compulsion, realigning my concentration. My next move will put me on top of the dresser. The sense of achievement gets the better of me, and I bring my knee up, anchoring it on the top of the wood before pulling the rest of my body up.
Beep!
I gasp and freeze, mindful that I could activate the alarm again. I didn’t hit the beam; I know I didn’t!
‘You missed the one above your head, princess.’
Keeping as still as I can, I cast my eyes up and spot the stretch of blue light just a few inches above my head. Then I look ahead and spot my way out. There are three beams in front of me, avoidable if I use the holes from various missing bricks in the wall. I smile. My instinct didn’t fail me. I can smell freedom in the form of an intoxicating wood-and-apple scent, but holy fuck, this is going to take some serious body-bending to clear.
‘Take your time,’ Becker says softly, encouragingly. My heart is now hammering, a little in apprehension and a lot in excitement. So I practise some breathing, working hard to calm down my racing heart. I can’t fail now. Just one spank. It’s not none, but I can live with one.
I reach for one of the holes in the wall, but then retract my arm, figuring very quickly that my plan’s not going to work. My foot. I need to get my foot into it. Shit, that looks hard. Positioning my bum on the edge of the dresser, I check below and find no beams close to the edge, so I slide my legs down the side so I’m sitting on the edge. Then I brace my hands behind me and point my toe, reaching to the wall under the beam before me. My toe skims the brick. ‘Damn it,’ I curse, shuffling carefully forward, constantly scanning my surroundings and position. My foot reaches and settles, and I exhale, my cheeks puffing out. My leg is extended to full length, my muscles strained like an overstretched elastic band with both hands gripping the top of the dresser. I need to be quick. I won’t be able to withstand the pull for long. Looking down to where my hands rest on the edge of the wood, I anchor them firmly, then push my bum off the edge, keeping my other foot wedged into the side of the dresser, hoping it doesn’t slip, before reaching with my right hand and grabbing the wall. I exhale, and I’m sure I hear Becker release air, too. I can feel him watching me, though there’s not a cat in hell’s chance of me looking to confirm it. Not unless I pull an Exorcist move and spin my head on my shoulders. I breathe out as I bend forward to dip under the beam but stop just in time to realise that my head will likely cut straight through another beam a foot in front. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the one behind is a little further away, but Lord knows how I’ll bend back that far. Fuck, I might be nimble but I’m hardly a contortionist.
