Page 74 of Mountain Impact

“He’s going to bring us back, isn’t he?” she whispered, her expression grim again.

The green shadows of the trees below flew by, moving faster and faster. Drake heard a hissing sound from above.

No, he’s not.

Whatever he did to the cable car last time, he’s going to do it again.

He’s going to cause another accident.

In his zeal to get Isolde away from the gun, Drake had played right into Blanchard’s hand. If the cable car crashed, Blanchard could get rid of the technician’s body, walk away, and never look back. Nobody would ever look at him for this.

“No. He’s speeding it up,” Drake said softly. He would not lie to her. “He wants to cause another accident.”

The heat in his back was quickly shifting to a high-pitched throbbing pain, but now wasn’t the right time to worry about it. He could still move, and that’s all that mattered.

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” she said. Her hand sought his in a comforting grip. Drake realized she didn’t want him to be scared.

She’s thinks we’re going to die, and she’s trying to comfort me.

Drake stood up, bringing Isolde to her feet. He wrapped her hands around one of the metal poles designed for visitors to grab on to.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Grab on tight,” he told her. “We’re going to jump.”

“Jump? Are you insane, Drake?”

Some piece of machinery above them hissed and cracked. Drake tried to remember whether that was the same sound he’d heard in the forest. Something inside him told him they didn’t have long.

“Staying here is insane, Isolde. If we jump, we have a chance―” He hissed in pain. His back was turning into a ball of agony.

“Drake? What’s wrong?” Isolde asked. Her hand came up to touch his face.

“Keep your hands on the pole,” he said, ignoring her concern.

Drake made his way unsteadily to the door. His strength was failing him―he needed to get it open now.

His fingers found a small crack in the door.

Bingo.

The muscles in his forearms tensed as he pulled, slowly opening a gap where he could fit first a hand, then a foot. He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled again, this time with a bit more leverage, cracking it open further. The wind rushed into the cable car.

“We need to get out right now.”

Isolde whimpered.

“I’m scared.”

“Listen to me. We’re going to jump onto the next pylon. Together.”

“No …”

“The cable car has an automatic braking mechanism every time it approaches a pylon. It’s designed to protect the machinery. We’re going to use that,” he said, with more certainty than he really felt. “You’re going to hold on to me, just like that,” he said, crouching so she could get onto his back.

He wished he had a harness and a carabiner―anything to clip her to him.

“You hold on to me and don’t let go, Isolde―no matter what, okay?”