Page 28 of Stormbreaker

I try a few more times without success. This is impossible.

That’s when I notice the flashing light on my wristband. As I swing toward the far side, the light turns blue.

Wait. Am I not on the right path?

Another swing back and the light flips to red before turning blue as I swing toward Stevie again. Red at the bottom of the arc. Blue on the edges.

I’m not supposed to reach the other side; I’m supposed to go down.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I make another pass as more laughter follows in my wake. They understand what I’ve just realized. But if I fall, what happens? Will something catch me?

I consider my options and look up. The beam. There’s nothing else to use the hook with. This must be it.

Instinct guides me as I fling the hook up. It snags on the beam, and I almost cry with relief. The other end hangs down, several feet longer than my tether. I’m slowing, losing momentum as the arcs grow shorter.

I’m running out of time.

I gather the free end of the rope and tie it around my waist before I go fishing for the knife tucked into my boot. Then I quickly saw through the first rope. I try not to think too hard about what will happen. How much is this going to hurt?

The first rope gives, and I plummet, a scream tearing from my throat as I drop before the second rope stops me with a jerk. I cry out as it digs into my ribs, and I’m dangling again, the knife somehow still clutched in my hand.

Now what?

That’s when I spot the net far below. Skies. I need to let myself fall.

“Ten seconds!” Stevie shouts from above, her voice carrying on the breeze.

Can I do this? I have no choice. Quickly, I saw at my tether, the fibers slowly giving way, strand by excruciating strand.

I focus, willing clarity into my mind.

I empty it of every thought.

Inhale a deep breath just as the rope breaks.

I plummet, a scream ripping from my throat. I’m moving too fast to feel my limbs. My throat burns as I drop down, down, down.

The wind jostles me left and right. I try to slow myself, but obviously, nothing I do makes any difference. I’m at the mercy of gravity and acceleration and the gusting winds.

The earth races up toward me, and I wonder if I’ve just made a huge fucking mistake.

How bad could being married to Knox be?

I imagine our lives sometime in the not-too-distant future. Me at home alone, probably drinking to numb the pain, wondering who he’s fucking tonight—

SLAM.

I hit the net with a jolt. It feels like I’ve landed face-first on concrete.

It slaps my stomach and hips and thighs. My hands burn, my wrists tangling with the net.

Thank Skies.

But it’s not over yet. I bounce up, flying into the air with my arms and legs kicking and spinning. It takes a few more rebounds before I finally come to a stop. I roll onto my back, peering at the sky as another flash of light paints the world in amethyst. I’m not sure I can move. A green light blinks in my periphery, revealing my cheerfully glowing wristband.

I made it. Somehow, I made it.