Page 46 of Rogue Games

Joel bounces the ropes again for good measure, and my foot slips, sending me flailing to get my feet onto the rope again. I’m on the verge of a panic attack, but they think this is hilarious.

“Fine, I’ll convince him pack life isn’t for us. We’ll be gone by morning.” Halfway across a rope bridge, hanging over a dizzyingly deep canyon in the middle of nowhere with a storm closing in, I’d agree to anything right now just to get back on solid ground.

Samuel narrows his eyes, trying to gauge how likely it is that I’m just placating him.

I watch as his features settle. He’s made his decision. When he nods, Joel steps back from the edge, releasing the rope from his hand. When it looks like he’s ready to leave, I almost cry with relief. But that’s going to have to wait until I’m on solid ground.

If I didn’t have a fear of heights before, I definitely do now.

Using the back of my arm to wipe the water from my eyes, I stare at Samuel, willing him to get moving so I can get off this bridge. Except he has no intention of letting me off so easily. With a vicious grin, Samuel reaches forward, eyes locked on mine and jerks the ropes one last time. With one hand off the bridge, I wobble, my foot sliding off. Shooting out my hand, I manage to steady myself, but my heart is pounding.

This idiot is going to get someone killed.

“I’m giving you what you want. Let me off,” I call, my voice steady and calm, despite what’s going on inside me. I need to get off this fucking rope.

“Fine, come on then.” Samuel beckons for Joel to come across and follow him, but as soon as Joel adds his considerable weight to mine, the rope groans and creaks.

“Get off it!” I yell, and Joel does as I say, leaping back onto the cliff’s edge. I freeze, waiting to see if it’s going to hold. I close my eyes and inch along, trying not to bounce or jostle the fraying rope any more than necessary, and yet knowing that every passing second could be crucial to getting through to the next round. Or getting across alive.

I need to keep moving. They’re holding me up.

Samuel’s eyes are wide and shifty. He wasn’t expecting their antics to actually damage the bridge. Glancing over his shoulder, he checks for anyone watching, and then over to Joel who’s waiting for his turn with a concerned expression.

In the distance, the sky lights up, and the atmosphere crackles with electricity. The weather is going to get worse, way worse.

“Help me, you asshole,” I cry out as Samuel takes a couple of steps back and holds his arms out to the sides, laughing like a maniac in the rain.

His eyes are wild as he tips his head back and lets the water pour down his face. “I don’t think we’re going to make it back in time.” He could hold the bridge steady instead of running away, which it looks like he’s about to do.

“Damn it Samuel, what’s wrong with you?” Gritting my teeth, I inch along, focussing on nothing but making some progress, no matter how small.

“Sorry, Rogue. Doesn’t look like you’re going to make the cut,” Samuel shouts over the howling wind. His fingers are back on the ropes as it sways back and forth, almost violently now, but instead of helping, he’s picking at the frayed fibres.

“Fuck,” I hiss, picking up the pace now. He’s lost his fucking mind. The river raging below rolls and churns, white foam cresting the waves as the volume of water flowing down from the hills converge to swell it well above normal levels.

If I end up in that, I’m dead.

A quick glance back tells me nobody else has reached the bridge, and Joel’s gone. Has the weather put them off? Is he turning people back?

Whatever the reason, it doesn’t look like there’s help coming.

Samuel pulls a knife from the pocket of his utility shorts. Glinting in the light, it looks sharp. When he presses it to the torn strands of rope and more pieces sheer away, my stomach plummets. He can’t be serious.

“That’s not fucking funny,” I say. “You’ve made your point. Put the knife down. I won’t say a word. I'll pack up and leave. Hell, I'll run straight to the border from here.”

Lifting one hand to show I’m surrendering; I wait to see what he’s going to do. I might want to find out more about Dean and my mother, but I can’t do that if I drown at the bottom of this river. Nothing in this place is worth dying for.

When Samuel’s lips curl up in a wicked smirk, I know I’m fucked. As he saws the beige fibres aggressively, I push out a mind-link to Wyatt as hard as I can, but I know he’s already too far away to hear.

I stop staring in disbelief at what he’s doing and shuffle as fast as I can, back toward the far side. Blinded by driving rain and with the wind lashing my hair across my face, I misstep, my ankle sliding painfully along the rope, before I manage to pull myself back up. I’m almost there, nearly at the other side, when I make the mistake of looking back to where Samuel stands with a disgustingly pleased smile on his face.

The snap begins with a few sharp pings, followed by a crack so loud it sounds like a gunshot. The tension in the rope vanishes under my fingers, and the support beneath my feet disappears.

I scream as I fall. Wrapping my arm around the rope, I hang on for dear life as I plummet, dropping fast until the rope snaps tight, still connected at one end. It jerks my arm painfully, and then I’m swinging toward the jagged canyon wall at terrifying speed.

Bracing myself, I twist my body, drawing up my legs to protect myself as much as I can from the brunt of the impact but my back slams into the jagged cliff wall. The wind is knocked from my lungs, and my grasp loosens. I slip a few inches, the rope burning my palm, before I grip on tightly once more, blinking hard against the stabbing pain in the back of my head.

Samuel looks over the edge, unhappy to see I haven’t fallen into the raging river below. “You bitch!”

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