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CHAPTER

27

THE WOODEN BRIDGE was one of those old plank things—and several of the planks were either missing or rotted and splintered. Hoof prints in the dirt and droppings on the bridge showed that goats had been using it. There was no railing—nothing except some crappy-looking horizontal pieces of wood nailed to what looked like not much more than salvaged two-by-fours. She hugged the left side of the little footbridge, tiptoed quickly across it, and refused to look down at the murky, angry water swirling not far below.

Once over the bridge, Mercury jogged upstream several yards until she found Oxford’s hastily discarded backpack. It was a real backpack, not like the schoolgirl ones she and Stella and the rest of their group had crammed into the bed of the truck. This one was a long rectangle that was obviously filled with serious camping supplies. It was in good condition but was also well used—and completely full.

Mercury sighed and picked it up by one of its wide straps—and then wanted to laugh. It wasn’t even close to as heavy as it looked! She slipped her arms through the straps, looked across the river, downstream to where Stella was standing by the rear of the truck, staring at her. She grinned and waved at her friend, who made more of a shooing gesture than a wave in return.

“Coming!” Mercury shouted between cupped hands before she jogged back to the bridge.

At the footbridge Mercury remembered to stick to the side, now on her right, that had been semi-stable on her way over. Not anticipating any problems because her newly acquired weight just didn’t add that much, she walked out onto the bridge and began to retrace her path.

Mercury’s stomach growled, and she was wondering what besides sandwiches Stella had packed for them, when a board gave way under her left foot, falling into the raging water just inches beneath. Struggling to regain her balance, Mercury staggered into the center of the bridge.

With a deafening crack, the planks beneath both of her feet broke and dropped into the river, with Mercury following close behind. The backpack caught on a plank behind her, halting her fall, but that plank was thoroughly rotten and it gave way quickly so that she continued to plummet downward. As her legs went under the water, Mercury frantically grasped at the bridge planks in front of her. She managed to grip a splintered piece of wood and held on while the current sucked at her body like it was the throat of a ravenous giant.

She could hear Stella shouting and knew her friends must be running to save her, but the board she clutched moaned beneath her weight.

It wouldn’t hold her long.

The board’s splinters sliced into her fingers and the palms of her hands, but Mercury didn’t let go. The backpack pulled her down, but she gritted her teeth, and instead of allowing the current to take her and pull her to the bottom, Mercury grunted and concentrated. Then she attempted something she’d been trying to accomplish in the gym for years. Using an overhand grip on the rough plank, she pulled herself up until her chin was above the board, and then methodically Mercury straightened her arms, heaving up until her chest had cleared the board and her waist was even with it. She swung her legs to the side, up and over, and with abs of steel she had zero clue she owned, Mercury powered up the rest of the way onto the bridge, landing in a crouching position.

There was a sharp crack, almost like gunfire, and the footbridge disintegrated beneath her. Without conscious thought, Mercury shouted, “Shit!” and leaped at the bank that was still at least ten feet in front of her. As what remained of the bridge crumbled into the river, Mercury catapulted to land with an oof as the backpack’s weight made her roll onto her back, turtle-like, in the dirt.

“Mercury! Jesus fucking Christ! Are you okay?” Like a major league pro heading into home, Stella slid to her. She grabbed her arms and pulled her to a sitting position. “Are you broken? Gemma! Get your butt here!”

“I’m here! I’m here!” Gemma sprinted up and went to her knees beside them. “Let me look at you. What hurts?”

“I’m okay,” Mercury said. She lifted her hands. Her fingers and palms were a mass of blood and splinters. “These hurt, but other than that I’m okay.”

“Fuck!” Imani ran to them. “Get that giant pack off her.”

“Guys, really. I’m okay except for my hands. The pack’s fine. It’s definitely not as heavy as it looks. Help me up.”

Stella and Imani took her elbows and guided Mercury to her feet. She moved her shoulders and shifted the backpack before smiling at her friend. “See, good as new. Goddess! That bridge really sucked.”

“G-give me that pack.” Ford was staggering to them. His pale face made him look as dead as Mercury almost had been.

“No!” Mercury told him. “I’ve got it. It’s not even heavy. Dude, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

Gemma whirled around and made a little squeaking sound as Oxford swayed like a willow in a gale.

“Help him! I’m good.” Mercury frowned at Ford.

Gemma put her arm around Ford’s waist. Imani went to his other side and did the same to stabilize him.

“You better follow us back to the truck. Like, right now, Acorn!” commanded Gemma as she and Imani turned Ford and began trudging to the truck.

“Damn, she’s getting bossy,” said Mercury. “Right?” She glanced at her friend. Stella’s glacier-blue eyes were trapped on her. Her face was unreadably somber.

“What? I’m okay. Really.”

Stella kept staring at her.

“Stella! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Give me that backpack.” Stella held out her arms.


Tags: P. C. Cast Into the Mist Fantasy