Now I have to go and get my man.
JACK
The sun kisses the horizon and creates sparks of fire streaking along the silver-lined clouds forming over San Francisco Bay. The red bleeds off to deeper hues of scarlet until it changes subtly to rich purple.
At the moment, I wish I were some famous Renaissance painter who could, with simple brush strokes, capture all of this natural splendor. Not only would I be able to do this breathtaking sunset justice, but I also probably wouldn’t have a corrupt CEO and his gaggle of bodyguards escorting me across the bridge at gunpoint.
I have to wonder if this will be the last sunset I ever see. It isn’t fair. Instead of Livingston and his minions, it should be Victoria here with me to see this amazing, natural wonder.
How’s the saying go? Every man thinks all are mortal, save himself? I never gave my own death much thought before now. With my end imminent, I’ve come to realize how little I lived before the flash drive came into my life.
I’ve often wondered how my life would have gone if I’d just turned and looked the other way and let Xtera do what it willed. I wouldn’t have wound up in a jail cell, most likely.
Yet, that also means I wouldn’t have met Victoria, either. Even if I’m about to die, I’m willing to call that a fair trade. A once in a lifetime woman. Yeah, it was all worth it. If only I could figure out a way to get back to her, one last time.
We move along the footpath beside the bridge. This time of day, the traffic is light, and few would be willing to brave the chilly winds whipping in off the bay on foot. The bridge is ours alone, for the moment.
My little entourage and I move out toward the middle of the copper span. The strong winds make the metal cables and connection points creak. Far below, the waves of the bay crown themselves with white caps before sluicing back down into the depths from which they came.
Livingston snaps his gaze around. “All right, boys. This is far enough.”
Our group pauses, and we stand there in the chilly wind trying not to shiver. Minutes pass in stony, nervous silence. Some of the bodyguards Livingston brought along start bitching about the cold, and the perceived tardiness of my reporter friend.
How now, brown cow?Well, my ruse bought me twenty-four hours to live. Livingston brought me to the meeting with my reporter friend, my Lois-fucking-Lane.
The only problem is, Lois Lane’s not coming. Superman neither. I’m on my own. I got this far, but now what? How am I going to get out of this mess alive?
“All right, Jack,” Livingston says with a sneer. “Why’s your damn reporter friend so late?”
I lick my lips nervously, my brain locking up as I struggle to find something, anything to say. “Well, shit, look at all of these people with us. My friend was expecting to meet with me alone. She was very, very specific.”
I gesture around. “You brought an army of gun-wielding thugs with us. No wonder she’s not coming. You scared her off, Livingston. This is your fault.”
“Do I look like a fucking moron to you?” Livingston’s face grows so red his freckles vanish. “You really, really expect me to believe that a muckraking reporter on the cusp of the biggest scoop of their career is going to be worried about a couple of extra guys?”
He gestures at his men. “Go ahead and hide the heat, boys, just in case. We’ll give the reporter a few more minutes.”
“And then?” I ask.
His eyes glitter with malice. “And then, I make the assumption you have lied your ass off to stay alive, and, instead of killing you fast by pitching you over the edge of this God damn wonder of the world, I’ll kill you real slow. Strip by strip, like I’m making beef jerky from your hide.”
I swallow hard, shooting a glance over the edge. It’s a long, long way down to the ocean. At this dizzying height, I know hitting the water’s going to be like slamming into solid concrete.
Hell, even if I somehow, some way, miraculously survive the fall, then I’ll probably freeze to death. Or be eaten by sharks.
In fact, isn’t the bay supposed to be next to impossible to swim? Like that’s why Alcatraz was so impregnable….
Wait a second. I remember the same special where I saw the Alcatraz footage also spoke about a new feature being added to the Golden Gate Bridge. An anti-suicide net designed to keep people from hurling themselves to their deaths.
That was before I went to jail. I wonder if they ever finished it? If they did, then might I jump off and use it to escape?
I look down. It’s impossible to see what’s directly below this level due to the bridge’s construction. The net might be there. Then again, it might not.
If I make the jump, I might land on the net. But would that even help? I might end up in an even worse situation than before, because then I’d be trapped.
This is it. Livingston’s getting impatient, more and more so by the moment. If I’m going to jump, now is the time.
Should I do it? Should I even attempt to make the jump?
