DINI SPENT THE FIRST fifteen minutes not moving, afraid she’d fall. Boredom and a realization that the jerk with the gun could be coming back any time finally made movement an imperative. So she focused on trying to slide one direction or the other on the line. The contraption holding her in the center of the long, slightly drooping wire didn’t move.
It was like it was locked into place.
Of course it was locked into place. The monster who’d hung her from the zip line had sent her sailing out over the bluff with her hands taped around the upright of the t-bar and nothing else holding her up.
Her feet dangled over a drop of about 50 feet. And her arms screamed from holding her entire weight. Somewhere along the way she’d lost the nasty slippers and her feet were bare.
Tears slid down Din
