Surely there was another way…But as she looked around, she realized she was stuck. Either go back the way she’d come or cross.
How tough could it be? She’d just walked miles along the tracks and never once had fallen off. Getting across was only a matter of nerves. Of not looking down. Of planting one foot in front of the other. Of not panicking.
But, oh, man, was that a long way down!
Maybe there was another way across, or maybe she could find a path to climb down to get to the bottom and she could follow the dry river bed. Desperately, she swept her gaze over either side of the canyon. Sheer, ragged rock walls flanked the deep chasm and were topped with brush and trees.
Not far to the south was another bridge, a narrow one that had been built for cars or logging trucks or whatever vehicle wanted to scale these hills. She walked backward for about a hundred yards or so, searching for a path that might lead through the forest to the road. She checked the spot from which the deer had leapt, but she saw no evidence of a trail. And even if she did, who was to say it would take her to the road?
The road the Beast probably uses.
That’s where he would be. He probably thinks you were trying to find the road and just used the trails to throw him off. So go for it. Cross the damned railroad bridge. Now. Get it over with.
Gritting her teeth, she made her way to the edge of the trestle again, then squatted and placed her hands on the rails, feeling for any sense of movement, listening hard, hoping that if there was another train coming she would sense it. The rails didn’t tremble at all. Nor could she hear the huff of an engine or the clack of wheels on tracks. All in all, aside from the twitter of a bird or the rustle of a chipmunk or squirrel in the brush, there was no sound.
Just do it. Go on. Quit being such a wuss!
It was now or never.
Tentatively she started out, making certain each of her footsteps landed squarely on the wooden slats, seeing, through the spaces in between, the land give way to clear space and a terrifying drop. Carefully, she stepped on one narrow tie at a time.
Keep going.
Heart pounding, she inched farther over the chasm, noticing that her breathing was shallow, that her heart was frantically beating, that her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. All of her concentration was on her movement, slow, but sure, even farther over the wide crevice, one foot, then the other, one foot, then the other.
Out in the open, without the hills or trees to shade her, the sun beat hot against her crown and sweat ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t dare swipe at the beads that stung her eyes for fear she’d lose her concentration or, worse yet, her balance.
What had her mother often said? “Every task is as easy or as hard as you make it.” Yeah, right. “Easy as pie, honey.”
Her dad had told her, not without a sense of pride, that she was fearless.
Wrongo, Dad. Inside she was quivering like a leaf in a stiff breeze.
Halfway across now.
She took a long breath, then stepped forward again. Maybe she was going to make it. On the other side she wouldn’t even stop to rest, just keep going along the tracks, hoping and praying that there would be a town, or at the very least, a farmhouse in the distance.
Another step.
And another.
Closer still.
She looked up and thought she saw a movement in the brush along the sides of the trestle. A glint of something…glass caught in the sunlight?
She stopped. Barely twenty feet from the end of the bridge. She looked more closely to the spot where she’d seen the glimmer of light, a reflection of some kind, but there was nothing in the brush and shrubs, no movement in the shadows.
Yet the hairs on the back of her neck raised.
Her skin crawled and fear inched up her spine.
He couldn’t have figured out where she was, could he?
Couldn’t have driven his truck down the road and, banking on the fact that she’d gone in this direction and wouldn’t risk using the road, had ended up here?
No…that was giving the guy too much credit.
Or was it?