When we break apart, he gives me an encouraging nod, then turns to the bridge. He grips the rope handrail, his steps as careful as possible given his injured leg.
My pulse rises and falls with every step he takes, the tips of my fingers cold to the touch as nerves race through my body.
Once he’s about halfway across, he nods. “It’s actually sturdier than I expected. Let me cross just in case. I don’t want the extra weight to cause any strain.”
“What did you just say about my weight?” I call back.
A sad attempt at a joke, but it temporarily distracts me, so I’m not sorry.
“Jesus Christ, Courtney,” Landon huffs.
A pitiful laugh slips out of me as I watch him take every step so cautiously. I don’t think I take a full breath until he reaches the other side and steps fully off the bridge.
Oh, thank God.
Landon turns to face me, his face a little paler than before. “Piece of cake.”
I scoff at the blatant lie.
Doing exactly as he did, I hold on to the rope with all my might, taking my first step on the bridge. My entire body tenses as it sways, and I brace for… I don’t know, death? When nothing happens, I peek my eyes open to see Landon watching me carefully.
“You’re doing great, baby. Keep moving. Light footsteps.”
Nodding my understanding, I do as he says, treading lightly against each wooden plank. I can feel beneath my sneakers that certain planks are more rotten than others. One even creaks beneath my toes, and it almost sends me into a full spiral.
“You’re almost there,” Landon calls as a gust of wind blows out of nowhere, sending the bridge swaying several feet to the left and right—back and forth, back and forth.
I begin screaming, the shrill sound hurting my own ears, but I can’t stop. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’ll stop soon. Stop moving!” Landon shouts.
“I can’t!”
“Do something to help you relax!” he calls out.
“Like what?” I snarl.
“Fuck, I don’t know. Sing?”
Sing? Sing what?
The bridge continues swaying, and my stomach flips as my palms grow sweaty, the rope turning slick in my hands. I don’t think or pause, I just start belting out the first song that pops into my head with my eyes slammed shut.
“I’m freeeee! Wait, that’s not a good one!” I shout.
“No, that’s not a fucking good one,” Landon yells back. “Choose something else!”
“I got a bridge got a bridge full of sunshine,” I shout, singing horribly off-key. “You know that’s not the lyrics, right?” Landon calls out.
“SHUT UP!” I scream back before continuing.
“Oh whoa!” Landon chimes in.
A laugh is begging to escape me at his attempt to comfort me. I continue singing, even when the wind slows and I open my eyes. Landon nods encouragingly as I begin crossing once more.
“You’re doing great, baby. Almost there,” Landon says as I continue singing.
That is until I feel something behind me. Pausing, I look over my shoulder to see the rope that’s tied off around an old stump is beginning to fray. This fucking island and their goddamn rope.
