Second swing.

Going to jump this time.

She knows she should be scared.

She should be thinking about how dangerous this is.

Or about all the junk under the mud.

Or about whether Kendra made it onto the support.



Or about the fact that standing on the rail of a gondola hanging from a crane is maybe not the best life decision.

But she isn't.

Her thoughts are still.

It's terrifying, yeah, but a part of her is actually enjoying this. That was looking forward to jumping.

To being weightless.



The rain tears through the cabin of the gondola again spraying in her face.

Here we go.

She can feel her heart thudding in her chest, like someone trying to get out.

"This is," she thinks, calm and clear, as though from a great distance, "Really quite terrifying."

Here we GO!



And then, in the last second before she jumps, there is, not a sound, but a sensation not unlike being inside a bell.

And her arm ignites.

It feels like someone pumped her arm full of jet-fuel, with an industrial pump, one of the big ones they use for hydraulics. Pumped it right up until it was nearly bursting, then pricked two tiny holes in it.



And set them on fire.

Notes