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chapter twenty-one
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ON MONDAY NIGHT, we’re both home in time to watch Jeopardy live and our stiff competition is in full swing.
Except we’re cuddled up on the couch, holding hands, and congratulating each other when we get one right. Maybe it’s not exactly a stiff competition.
“What is Bonanza?” Zane hollers in response to the classic TV show category-answer about a man who has three sons and lives on a ranch in Nevada.
He gets it right and I give him a high five.
“Who is Alf?” I shout. It was another TV classics answer about a character who likes to eat cats from the planet Melmac.
“Good one, Mila,” he says.
All at once, our show is interrupted with breaking news.
The scene is of the Golden Gate Bridge. Traffic is backed up in both directions due to some sort of accident.
“Must be a bad accident to stop traffic,” Zane remarks.
We get to our feet and look out the window. Sure enough, we can see a long line of headlights fanning out into the distance.
Then Jeopardy is back on and we sprint back to the couch so we don’t miss anything, chuckling at our priorities.
Several minutes later, the news interrupts again. This time a reporter is live at Fort Point, speaking about the situation at the Golden Gate Bridge. Cameras are pointed to the underside of the huge bridge.
“The Golden Gate Bridge is officially closed to both northbound and southbound traffic. Police have discovered an unidentified object suspended underneath the bridge. The object is described as a large can suspended by a rope. Speculation says it could be a bomb, therefore precautions are in place. However, experts are saying if it is a bomb, it’s too far down to damage the bridge.”
Zane sits up, leaning closer to the TV, his attention immediately piqued. “That’s not true. Depends on what kind of bomb it is. The right bomb could easily take out the entire bridge.”
On the heels of his words, his phone rings. I think we both know what will happen next.
No. My stomach clenches painfully.
Concern marring his features, Zane answers. “Captain Martel.” He listens for a second. “I can be there in fifteen.” He listens again. “I’ll be there.”
He hangs up, his eyes flying to mine. “I have to go. They’ve called my team to take care of the situation at the bridge.”
He rushes to his room to change his clothes.
Paralyzed with fear, I stare at the TV. The strange object dangling from the bridge. The possibility of a bomb that could go off at any moment. Zane rushing into the situation, putting himself in danger. A fall from that height is almost a guaranteed death. Only a handful of people have survived such a plunge. So many things could go wrong.
I could lose Zane. The magnitude of his job hasn’t hit me yet. Not until this very moment.
I don’t like it. Not one bit.
He’s out and ready to go in two minutes flat. He gives me a quick hug, his mind on his mission.
“Zane, wait. Are you going to the bridge?” Dumb question. Of course he is. But I don’t want him to.
“Yes.”
“Do you think there’s a bomb?” I ask. Another dumb question he can’t answer.
“I won’t know until I look.”
How? How is he going to look? It’s suspended from the Golden Gate Bridge.
