CHAPTER 38
RILEY WATCHED NATE run out onto the bridge. The wind had picked up and swirls of mocha-colored water surged up, splashing the rails and sliding back down in a repetitive motion that seemed intent on sucking the structure down into the murky depths. Three sets of wooden bars ran along each side of the bridge. On the way in, they had seemed more than substantial, but now they offered all the assurance of popsicle sticks. Riley’s hands were rigid on the dashboard as she leaned forward, peering into the shafts of light cast by the headlamps.
Nate finished his survey of the bridge and returned to the car. He rolled down all the windows.
“Unfasten your seatbelt,” he said.
“Okay. What are we going to do?”
“We’re getting out of here.”
“By boat?” Riley asked doubtfully.
“Nope. Now
