ARC: Essence (25 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The webbing began to quiver the second my foot made contact. The sky below me twisted and wavered, and I felt perspiration rising on my temples. I took a moment to steady myself. Get yourself together, Autumn.

The horizon seemed to spin a little, and the breeze that kicked up below me sent the cliffs bending inward like the rocks inside the tunnel. I had the sense that I was poised over the edge of the world, that I would never stop falling if I lost my balance. Instead, I would keep tumbling and tumbling, head over foot over head over foot. For the rest of eternity.

My thoughts returned to Ken, to the only person who’d ever died on this highline, and I wondered what his body looked like when it had finally hit the ground. Did it liquefy? Splatter? Explode in so many directions that there wasn’t anything left?

I shook my head and remembered what Ryder had said the first day I ever tried slacklining:
You gotta feel the webbing, Red. Every tiny vibration; every little inconsistency and flicker. You gotta know that webbing better than you’ve ever known anything in your entire life. Can’t fake it, or you’ll fall.

I took a breath and felt my foot connect with the line. The spinning of the horizon lessened, and my shoulders began unknotting.

See how I’m not just popping up to stand? Taking a moment to feel the webbing, and taking a moment to gather my thoughts before I start. Gotta clear all that shit out before you get up. Just… whoosh. You know?

I closed my eyes. My eyes twitched this way and that, but I remembered Ryder’s words, and I willed them to be still. I relived the way I’d felt that first afternoon at Church Bowl, the way Ryder’s lessons left me amplified and present and centered.

I will walk Taft Point.

This was my last conscious thought before I began.

And then: just… whoosh.

From the moment I stepped off the edge, my eyes didn’t leave Ryder’s. He was standing on the other side of the cliff, still as a stone, and he held me in his gaze like an anchor.

He
was
an anchor. He was my anchor.

I placed one foot forward, and then another. The webbing jerked and bucked, but I swung my hands to the side and willed myself not to fall. I could feel the emptiness below me, the dizzying expanse of sky that opened into nothing. It left me sweaty and light-headed; it swirled and tugged at me like the claws of a monster.

I took another step, and I began to imagine that Ryder and I were connected in more ways than just our eye contact. I willed myself to see our Essences, to see a bridge between us, and I held onto it.

Slowly, step by step by step, I began to see strands of light. They twisted and shifted and spanned the distance between us. I think Ryder must have seen the strands, too, or maybe he just sensed them, because his eyes widened, and his intensity raced toward me. Strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt his promise:
I will always be here to catch you.

Confidence infused my steps as I took one step forward, and then another, and then another. My feet stuck like glue to the webbing, and my arms became loose. The breeze began rippling through my hair, but I let the wind pass through me. In and out. In and out. Measured and controlled as my breathing.

Before I knew it, I was more than a quarter of the way across the gap. I could sense the drop below me, the crumbling of boulders and the slow tilting of the world on its axis, but these realities didn’t scare me anymore.

I was walking Taft Point. And I was going to finish this.

The sun was getting higher now, and I could feel the warmth of its rays as they settled on my shoulders. A hawk keened somewhere in the distance, and then I passed the halfway mark.

Ryder was getting bigger now. His eyes were wide, and I was reminded of the first night we’d shared at Squaw Caves. I had glimpsed his soul then – had been so spellbound by its beauty that I’d completely lost my senses and given everything to him.

I realized here, walking across this chasm, that I didn’t regret that night. I didn’t regret a single thing about him, because I had been right about him. The depth of his soul wasn’t simply an aftereffect of that little white pill. It was as real as the webbing below my feet, as the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. It was real because I’d seen it then. And right now, I saw it again.

More than that, I meant what I’d said: I loved him.

I loved the tilt of his smile, the warmth of his eyes, the way he dreamt of being a doctor and leading the Community into the future. He wasn’t perfect – not by a long shot – but he wanted more than anything to be a good person.

He wanted to make his father proud. And he wanted to make me proud. And he was going to help me get out of here.

When I passed the three-quarters mark, something in Ryder’s expression changed. His entire body tensed, and I felt fear spread through his limbs and paralyze him in place. His eyes didn’t waver from mine, but his jaw set, and a trickle of perspiration dripped down the line of his cheekbone.

What just happened? I could feel the disturbance. The air around me changed as fear and hesitation raced through his Essence. The feelings twisted and collided and ignited, and then the arms that steadied me wavered.

I became acutely aware of the distance between us, of the remaining twenty-five feet of webbing that stretched like a wire across the vastness below me.

I was standing on a highline. Between two cliffs. With three thousand feet of air between my body and the ground.

Terror shuddered through me, and the line began to shake. Gently at first, and then more violently – side to side to side like the coils of a spring. I wavered and rocked my hands as I felt my body twisting. The horizon was moving again, and my heartbeat echoed between my ears: boom, boom, boom, boom, BOOM.

My eyes flicked from Ryder’s and began dropping to the highline below me.
If you feel yourself falling, try to catch the line with your hands.

But there was something imploring about the look in Ryder’s eyes. His headshake was slight – almost imperceptible – but it was there, and it was pleading: Don’t look away from me. Don’t look down.

Why? The highline stretched securely, and I could feel the snugness of my climbing harness against my waist. I was far enough from both cliffs that I didn’t need to worry about crashing into them, but Ryder’s expression was beseeching – even more powerful than my desire to end this. I took a breath and answered him with a nod of my own.

Ryder thinks I can do this. So I can.

The webbing didn’t stop shaking until I refocused on Ryder’s eyes. The fear lessened, and I heard his words again.
Just… whoosh.

One step, and then another, and then another – until there were twenty feet between us... and then fifteen… and then ten.

I almost lost my footing when I passed the eight-foot mark. A breeze picked up and blew me off balance, and I had to swing my arms so violently, I almost overcorrected and pitched sideways.

My body was slick with sweat, but I was close to the end now. The cliff walls were bending toward me, the webbing was pulling me near and the world was spinning around me. Ryder was reaching for me, and I was striding, striding, striding – racing forward and collapsing into his arms.

His arms clamped around my back, and his entire body shuddered as he dragged me from the edge. Adrenaline and relief flooded me as we collapsed to the ground, and the smile that split my face was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I did it, I thought. I walked Taft Point, and you were here to catch me.

His grip didn’t loosen. I didn’t realize he was crying until I felt his tears smear against my cheeks. But he wasn’t just crying. He was sobbing – strangled, violent shakes that racked his entire body.

His sobs were so intense that after a few moments, I pulled back. We made eye contact, and I realized he wasn’t simply relieved. He was furious.

“You son of a bitch!” Now he was on his feet. He was storming down the trail toward Rex, and his fists were clenched. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?”

I rolled to my side and watched Rex’s approach in bewilderment. The older man strode toward us cautiously, but it was no use. The moment he was within striking distance, Ryder threw a punch.

I gasped as Rex blocked him. “Son, you don’t understand. It was for your own good…”

“My own good? How could that have possibly been for my own good?”

Ryder swung again, and Rex tried to dodge his blows as dust rose at their feet. The cliff edge loomed dangerously near, and a pit formed in my stomach as Rex swung Ryder into a headlock and insisted, “Son, trust me! It was for your own good!”

More punches. Shuffling. Rocks and dust and twigs rising and tumbling off the edge of the cliff. “You’re a
monster
. Everyone was right about you.” Ryder was out of breath now, and a trickle of blood oozed from a wound on Rex’s cheekbone.

My mind reeled, and I struggled to figure out what I’d missed. I climbed to my knees, and I steadied myself for the safety line’s tug as it strained against the highline behind me.

But there was no tug. No strain. No pressure from the climbing harness as it reached the end of its slack.

And then it hit me. The feeling of Rex’s hand as it pressed against my shoulder. The uncomfortable heat. The nearness of his presence.

“What kind of psychopath would even
think
to unclip her?”

There it was. The fear and paralysis in Ryder’s eyes, the disturbance in the air. The pleading, terrified expression that had told me not to look down. Not to fall. Not to trust the safety line that held me.

Because there had never been a safety line.

Rex had pulled it free before I even started walking.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

I couldn’t react. Couldn’t do anything except cling to the boulder below me as a wave of vertigo struck me so violently I feared I’d be flung to my death.

I hadn’t had a safety line. Hadn’t had anything between my body and the valley floor except an inch-wide strip of webbing that bobbed and shook and threatened to drop me at any moment.

I hadn’t had a safety line, and Rex
had known
it. Realized as he held onto my shoulder that he was most likely sending me to my death. Counted on that. Planned it all along.

Ryder didn’t share my paralysis. His reaction was all rage, but even in his anger, it was clear he was outmatched. Rex outweighed him by at least twenty pounds, and he easily blocked the majority of Ryder’s blows.

Worse, it was clear he was getting angry himself. “Will you listen to me, goddammit?” he said, twisting Ryder’s arm around his back. “I won’t tolerate this insubordination from you much longer, son.”

Ryder cried out and gritted his teeth. Mud and dust streaked his cheeks, and his breathing became uneven.

Rex hissed, “Ryder, I know what’s best for you. I always have. And I know you think Autumn is the answer right now, but you’re wrong. She’s a distraction; she’s taking you away from your purpose.”

“Then let her go! Let her go like you said you would.”

“I
can’t.
You must understand that. She’s a liability, and she’ll destroy everything we’ve ever built together.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” His voice became strangled. “Why make her walk if you had no intention of letting her go?”

Rex loosened his grip slightly. “I’m sorry, son. I just thought if she made the mistake herself…”

“You thought
what
?” Ryder whipped his arm free and turned to advance again on his father. “You thought there wouldn’t be any hard feelings between us if it wasn’t your fault?”

“Ryder…” Rex dodged another blow, and a cascade of pebbles skittered off the cliff by his feet. “You don’t get it. You won’t now – not for a while – but you have to trust me. Autumn is a distraction, and you’ll thank me for getting rid of her someday when you look back and realize I’m doing this for you.”

Ryder laughed. “
For me
? You honestly expect me to believe you’re doing this for
me
?”

“I am.” Rex’s voice became defiant. “For the past fifteen years, I’ve done nothing but work every single minute of every single day. And do you know why? It’s for
you,
son, to create a better world for you. Is this the gratitude you show me?”

“You expect
gratitude
? You lead us up here, pull a stunt like that, and you honestly expect me to
thank
you for it?”

“I expect you to show me some respect.” Now, Rex began to falter. His voice lost its velvet edges, and he wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. “I expect you not to blow everything I’ve built for you!”

Ryder surveyed the Valley floor and spit. “Didn’t build this for me. Didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted.” He turned his back. “Come on, Autumn; let’s get out of here.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t. Ryder couldn’t see the transformation on Rex’s face, but I could. Rex’s eyes darkened, and his expression twisted so quickly that he became almost unrecognizable. Heartbreak and bewilderment flashed through his expression, and then his jaw set.

He hardened. I could sense the determination filling him – spreading through his insides and wrapping around him until he wasn’t even Rex anymore. He was a soldier. A machine. A man with a purpose. And right now, only two things stood between him and his purpose.

Ryder and me.

“No!” From somewhere deep down, I found the strength to pull myself off my rock. I staggered to my feet, and then I ran – bypassing Ryder and vaulting into Rex as he marched forward to reach for Ryder’s neck.

“Stay away from him!”

Rex was off-balance now, and I was punching – whaling into him with what little strength I had left. All the lies, the prodding, the cover-ups… I took my fear and my heartbreak, and I projected it into every punch I threw.

But it was no use. Rex was twice my size, and it wasn’t long before he twisted me into a chokehold and pushed me toward the cliff edge. “Stay where you are, Ryder,” he demanded. “I’m serious. Stay where you are, or she’s gone.”

Ryder met my eyes and clenched his fists. “Let her go.”

“I’m not going to do that. I’m going to wait for you to get into the Jeep, and then the three of us are going to head back to the Valley together. Autumn is going to get a nice setup in Camp Four, and you are going to lead my uprising. Or…” He shoved me toward the edge, and he held my neck as I faltered and tried to claw my way free.

The Valley floor dipped and sprawled before me, and I could feel my larynx closing as Rex pinched the air from my throat. Bright spots of color burst in my vision, and my legs wobbled as I struggled to stay on my feet.

“You’ll forget about her in a month. Forget about everything except our victory when we prove to the world that the Essence theory is a lie.”

I tried to glance sideways, to see Ryder’s reaction, but Rex’s grip was too tight. So Ryder’s voice sounded strange and disconnected when he finally answered, “Fine. You win. OK? Just don’t let her fall.”

Rex’s grip around my neck tightened. “I expect you to cooperate, son. She’ll be safe as long as you follow my directions. Right now, I need you to walk to the Jeep.”

The sound of shuffling. “Fine. I’m leaving. Get her away from the edge.”

Rex waited until Ryder was out of range, and then he slowly pulled me from the cliff. We began walking, and he kept a tight grip on the back of my neck to prod me forward.

As I stumbled along the trail, I felt something heavy in my pocket. It took a few moments to place it, and then I remembered: Ryder’s locket. It had a long chain, was reasonably heavy. He wouldn’t expect me to have it; could I swing it around and hit him with it somehow?

The irony that I was turning to a Centrist pendant for salvation didn’t escape me. I faked a stumble, dug into my pocket and dragged it free. Ryder and I made eye contact across the parking lot, and I could tell he saw it. His nod was almost unnoticeable, but it was all the encouragement I needed.

I dropped the locket and waited until the chain was fully extended, and then I wheeled and swung the pendant wide and fast until it arced through the air and struck Rex against the eye socket. The chain left a long slash across his cheek, and he cried out in surprise. Dropping my neck, he cradled his bleeding face with both hands.

Then Ryder was beside me. He gripped Rex’s neck with both his hands and began pushing him back to the cliff. “You can’t control everything. Don’t you get it?”

Rex wiped at the blood in his eye as Ryder dangled him over the drop. “It’s scary, right – to feel powerless? To have to trust that someone’s looking out for you? Because what if he’s not? What if he’s just using you, letting you believe he cares about you so he can manipulate you?”

“Son, it’s not like that. I care about you–”

Ryder shook him again. “Do you, Father? Do you?”

“I do!” Rex’s voice was wild now. “I do, Ryder, I do! I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…”

“What
didn’t
you mean to do? Unclip Autumn’s harness? Threaten to shove her off a cliff?” He snarled. “Tell me, Father, what
didn’t
you mean to do?”

“I’m sorry, son… Please forgive me; please don’t let me fall…”

“You don’t want to fall?” Ryder pushed him farther into the emptiness. “Tell me, if it’s OK for Autumn, why isn’t it OK for you?”

“Ryder…” Rex was blubbering now. He held Ryder’s arm with both hands and sobbed, “Please, son. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry… I’ll let her go… I’ll let you both go…”

“I could kill you right now.” Ryder leaned closer. “I could. You know that, right?” He wrenched his father away from the edge and dragged him toward the beginning of the highline.

My heart dropped. I knew I should feel vindicated, but I didn’t. I just felt… sad. And defeated. If we forced Rex to walk the highline, were we any better than he was?

Ryder forced Rex to the edge, but instead of making him walk, he simply reached for the safety line. “I could kill you right now,” he repeated, wrapping the cord tight around Rex’s arms and shoulders, “but I won’t. You know why? Because you don’t kill people unless you’re truly a monster.”

He left Rex lying in the dirt and turned to go. “Let’s get out of here, Red. Think I’ve seen enough.”