down in a wild arc. The fact that it hadn’t crashed to the floor barely registered in his mind as he bolted down the aisle. Only when he saw that the metal piece was swaying madly, unencumbered and yet still fettered, did he stop and swallow his heart back into place.
He’d gone up on the stage to make certain its harmlessness wasn’t temporary, and after gingerly pulling on the dangling piece, he was convinced it wasn’t going to come tumbling all the way down anytime soon. Still, it should be removed or repaired sooner rather than later.
“Better go up there and take a look,” said Pops, who’d climbed onto the stage with him. Apparently he wasn’t interested in seeing the dressing rooms with the Tuesday Ladies. “I’ll make sure everyone stands clear.”
Jake barely heard him, as he was already clambering up the nearest ladder—on the opposite side of the stage from where Vivien had been. Once he got to the top, he tested the part of the catwalk still attached on this side. It jolted sharply from the force of his foot kicking at it, and although the squeaks and creaks were wild and alarming, nothing seemed loose or even weak.
After assuring himself that he wasn’t about to go tumbling to the wooden floor below, Jake cautiously stepped out onto the trembling bridge. It shivered a little, but he held on to its chain railing—which was a safety hazard Vivien was going to have to fix pronto.
On his left were clusters of stage lights, most of them in rows on long metal beams—all hidden by the top overhang of the stage. The, uh, proscenium. That was what it was called. On his right hung rows of what looked like pieces of backdrops—
“What are you doing?”
He spun so fast that the narrow platform swayed, and he tightened his hold on the wimpy guard railing—someone definitely needed to replace that death hazard immediately—and saw Vivien nearly to the top of the ladder he’d just stepped away from.
“Hi,” he said. “I was just checking things—”
“Get off there right now,” she demanded from between tight jaws.
“It’s fine,” he told her. “I tested it out first.” Even in the dim light up here, he could see the fire blazing in her golden-brown eyes. There was a smudge of dirt high on her left cheek, and her caramel-blond hair was sagging loose from its ponytail beneath the ball cap she wore. She wore stretchy athletic shorts that ended above her knees and a kind of ratty hot-pink tee that said, I’m not yelling, I’m projecting. Looking at her here, standing so close, he felt an unexpected pang of sorrow…and awareness.
“Come back over here,” she said, now at the top of the ladder on the small landing. “No one is going out on there until I have it—”
She’d trailed into silence and was staring into the space toward the back where all of the scenery pieces hung high above the vast stage. “So that was it,” she muttered. Even in the faulty light, he could see her face had gone pale and tense.
“What? What is it?” He was already back to the landing and she hadn’t responded. “Viv? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, but there was a hard edge to her voice. And he didn’t think that anger was directed at him this time. But as he stepped onto the small platform next to her, she seemed to regroup, and as she turned to him, the ire in her expression was definitely just for him. “Jake, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I don’t need—or want—your help. All right? So just…go away.”
He might have simply climbed down the ladder at that point and done as she’d ordered if he hadn’t glanced toward whatever had caught her attention. He couldn’t have seen it from his previous position out on the catwalk, but here, now, the view was unencumbered, and he saw what had surely caught her attention.
GO OR DIE.
Large words in glowing green emblazoned on a black backdrop, way up high at the top of the stage.
“I’ve never seen a background that looks like that,” he said casually, although his pulse had sharply spiked. He might not have thought much of it if it hadn’t been for Vivien’s reaction (considering there was a musical called Urinetown, he supposed anything was possible when it came to stage scenery). But the tightness of her mouth, her sudden arrested stillness, as if she’d been jerked to attention, told him