Page 34 of The Space Between Heartbeats
“Your legs aren’t going to work right,” he says patiently. “You’ve been stuck at this angle too long. The blood hasn’t been circulating properly. If you try to stand on your own, you could compromise the car. So I need you to trust me to catch you and pull you across. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good. I’m going to count down from three. On one, the restraint releases. You’re going to fall forward and I’m going to catch you. Ready?”
I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. But I nod anyway.
“Three.”
I try to brace myself, try to prepare for what’s about to happen.
“Two.”
Knox’s hand finds mine one more time and he squeezes hard.
“One.”
The restraint releases.
And I fall.
He was right, gravity pitches me forward and my legs are completely numb beneath me. I couldn’t stand if I wanted to. His hands grip my arms and he pulls me into the bucket, where I collapse into a heap on the metal floor.
I’m gasping, trying to catch my breath from the adrenaline, and my legs are experiencing painful pins and needles as blood rushes back into them. Mike moves me to sit against the side of the bucket, and I grip the rail with shaking hands.
“Stay right there,” he says. “Don’t try to stand. Just hold on.”
Then he turns to Knox.
“Your turn, buddy. Same thing. Don’t try to help, just let me pull you in.”
Knox shakes his head. “I can stand. I can help.”
Stubborn ass, like always.
“No.” Mike’s tone is assertive. The car groans and shifts slightly like it’s punctuating Mike’s orders. “We don’t have time to argue about this. On three, I release the restraint and you fall forward into my arms. Understand?”
“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay.”
“Three. Two. One.”
I grip the railing, holding my breath, as Knox falls forward. For a moment, I think Mike won’t be able to catch him. Knox is too big, what if he lands wrong, or if the car breaks away or?—
Mike grabs hold of him and hauls him in front of me. Knox tries to stand, but stumbles, until Mike steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit. Both of you, stay down.”
Knox collapses next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. With a ragged breath, he says my name, and I lean in closer, letting him hold me.
“Hold on tight,” Mike says, turning to work the controls. “We’re going down.”
The bucket starts to descend and Knox tenses beside me as we watch the car we were just in sway above us. The structure groans again, like it’s aware we’ve made it out and it’s not pleased.
“Don’t look up,” Mike says.
But we both do. I can’t help it.
Above us, I hear Ellen’s voice on the radio. “We need another platform up here NOW. Row four is still occupied and we’re losing structural integrity.”
Please let them be okay.
