Echoes Between Us - McGarry, Katie Page 0,50
It’s big, and I’m not sure that bridge is safe.”
“I agree. It’s not safe.” I point to the CAUTION sign behind us then follow along the road to show the curve before the bridge. “A driver lost control of the car, missed the bridge completely due to the curve then went over the edge into the river. The people in the car drowned.”
“Two teens, right? On the way home from a dance?” Sawyer glances over at me with a knowing smirk on his face, and I smile because he’s correct.
“Someone’s been doing their research.”
He shrugs one shoulder and goes for the backseat of the car. Sawyer opens the door, tosses his cell in, pulls out a fancy camera and starts for the river. I refuse to let him off the hook. “What’s the camera for and what else did you find out about the bridge?”
“I have to take pictures for my photography course. As for the bridge, I read about some teen who hung himself in the middle of the bridge and a woman who was walking through the bridge who had a heart attack and died halfway through. There are some sketchier earlier stories about people who would go in the bridge and never came back out, but I couldn’t find too many references to support that.”
“Do you know the ghost stories?”
“I assumed ghosts were your area of expertise.” Sawyer pauses near the steep river bluff, puts the camera to his eye and takes a few snapshots. “I have a hard time believing we’re going to see ghost headlights behind us on the bridge and then headlights shining from the river up into the bridge, nor do I think we’re going to hear people calling from the river for help.”
“Aren’t you optimistic?”
He snaps a picture of me and waggles his eyes. “That’s my nickname.”
Sawyer continues to take pictures, each step taking him closer and closer to the edge of the stone cliff until his toes literally hang off.
“As you mentioned earlier, that’s a big drop,” I warn.
“I know.”
The river below is fast moving, deep, murky and feels evil. As if Satan himself had taken the time to create this place. “I think falling into it would suck.”
“I’ve jumped from higher.”
“I haven’t. I don’t swim, remember?”
“I still don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Easy. If you don’t go into the water, there’s no reason to swim. When you download the pictures onto a computer, we should look through them for spirit orbs.”
“I think you meant dust particles.”
“Someday, you’re going to piss off a ghost and he’s going to rip out your heart.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Not liking the strange dizzy feeling of being near the drop, I sit on a rock by the edge and watch as Sawyer continues to point and click with his fancy camera. I place my cell and recorder on the ground behind me and take in the world.
My eyes tell me that the place is beautiful and that I should be relaxed as I become one with nature, but there’s this sixth sense that tickles the back of my neck. Like a spider landing on my skin. It’s extremely uncomfortable, and it’s hard to stay still and not run back to the car, but I force myself to remain seated.
The wind blows my curls in front of my face and I take the hair clip from my shirt. My fingers fumble, the clip falls from my hands and I lunge forward in a vain attempt to catch it, but fail. “No.”
It drifts to a rock a few feet below me. Dang it. Mom gave me that barrette. I roll onto my belly and ignore the sickening gravity trying to yank me over the rocks and into the river. I reach and nothing. I crawl forward a little more and pebbles roll and bounce down the embankment. My fingertips barely brush the area of the rock near the barrette. So close.
Just another inch. A few centimeters more and my stomach drops as the ground beneath me gives.
“Watch out!” Sawyer yells.
My heart shoots up to my throat as I scream. My body tumbles forward. Pain as I hit rocks, burning as I slide. I grasp wildly for anything to steady myself, but everything’s moving, everything’s shifting, and there’s a huge boulder ahead. As I try to roll to keep my head from the impact, I’m caught.
A grip on my arm. My body whiplashes as I move up and my feet come around toward the river. I’m drawn into something