CHAPTER TWELVE #2
Lisa's thoughts crashed together in panicked confusion. He’d mentioned a sedative in her water…
and then how he thought it had taken much longer than he thought to hit her.
So, by that measure, it must have worn off faster than he had planned, too.
Her metabolism had processed the drug more quickly than he had anticipated, and she had woken up too soon.
That was why he looked disappointed. He had wanted her to sleep through the entire ascent.
She struggled against the harness, pulling at the straps and trying to find a release mechanism. But her fingers were clumsy from the lingering effects of the drug, and the harness had been secured too tightly. She could not free herself, and every second carried her higher into the air.
The ground continued to recede. The parking lot became a small square of light among larger patterns of streets and buildings, all dark and grimy-looking from this height.
To her right, there was a strange tower of some kind, maybe a radio tower or a cell tower, with red and white stripes.
Beyond that, Lisa could see the sprawl of Los Angeles spreading out in all directions, millions of lights creating a glowing map of the city.
The beauty of it meant nothing compared to the terror clawing at her chest.
She was going to die. The thought arrived with horrible clarity.
At this height, a fall would kill her instantly.
Her body would hit the ground at terminal velocity, and there would be nothing left of her but a broken mess on the pavement.
She’d die, but she honestly didn’t think she’d feel it.
How high did these things get up, anyway?
Tens of thousands of feet, she was sure.
But then she saw something to the west that gave her a small reason to believe that she might make it out of this: water.
A dark expanse of it, reflecting the city lights like a mirror.
She was drifting toward what looked like a reservoir, maybe half a mile away at her current trajectory.
The balloons were carrying her in that direction, pushed by winds she couldn’t feel from the ground as she was also lifted further up.
Lisa's training kicked in through the fog of panic. She was a climber. She knew how to assess risk and make split-second decisions on rock faces where a single mistake meant death. This was no different. The water was her only chance. Even then, she might die, but at least it was something.
Of course, she would have to break the balloon strings herself.
Lisa craned her neck back and looked up at the ropes connecting her harness to the balloons. They were thin but strong, probably nylon or some similar material. She couldn’t reach them with her hands, but she could reach them with her teeth.
The risk was enormous. If she broke too many strings at once, she would fall too fast and hit the water with enough force to kill her.
But if she didn’t break enough, she would drift past the reservoir and end up over solid ground again.
And she’d probably hit pretty damned hard.
She had to time it perfectly, had to gauge the exact moment when she was over the deepest part of the water.
Lisa twisted her body in the harness, using core strength developed from thousands of hours on climbing walls.
Her abdominal muscles screamed in protest as she bent backward at an unnatural angle, reaching up toward the nearest rope.
The harness cut into her ribs and hips, and the wind made it nearly impossible to maintain her position.
She grabbed the rope closest to her arm and yanked it down as much as she could.
She craned her neck and did a sort of sloppy one-handed pull-up.
Her teeth closed around the first rope. It tasted like chemicals and dirt, and the texture was rough against her lips.
She bit down hard and pulled, using her neck muscles to create tension.
The rope resisted at first, then began to fray.
Lisa ground her teeth together, ignoring the pain as the rope cut into the corners of her mouth and as her teeth ground desperately together.
Blessedly, the rope snapped.
The harness jerked slightly as one balloon broke free, but the others held her weight.
Lisa did not have time to celebrate. She twisted again, reaching for another rope.
This one was harder to reach, and she had to arch her back even further.
The muscles along her spine burned, and her lips were already bleeding from the rough fibers.
She tasted her own blood in her mouth as it trickled over her tongue and down her throat.
She bit down on the second rope and pulled.
The wind buffeted her, making it difficult to maintain her grip.
She could taste blood mixing with the chemical residue from the rope.
The reservoir was getting closer, but she was still too high.
If she fell now, the impact would shatter every bone in her body.
She figured she had to be at least five hundred feet up by now.
Lisa released the second rope without breaking it and twisted to reach a third.
The movement sent fresh waves of pain through her core, and her vision blurred from the effort.
She had spent years training her body to handle the physical demands of climbing, but this was beyond anything she had ever experienced.
Every muscle in her torso felt like it was tearing apart.
The third rope went between her teeth. She bit down hard, sawing her head back and forth to create friction. The rope cut deeper into her lips, and she could feel blood running down her chin. But the rope was fraying, weakening with each movement. And then it snapped.
The harness jerked again, more noticeably this time.
Lisa was descending now, but not fast enough.
She needed to break more ropes, needed to time it so that she hit the water at a survivable speed.
She reached for a fourth rope, her abs cramping from the sustained contortion.
The reservoir filled her vision now, dark water stretching across maybe two acres.
She could see lights from buildings along the shore, but the center looked deep and empty.
Lisa bit into the fourth rope and pulled with everything she had left.
Her neck muscles strained to the point of nearly tearing.
The rope resisted, holding strong despite her efforts.
She adjusted her grip and tried again, feeling her teeth grinding against the fibers.
The rope was digging into her hand, tearing open the calluses that had accumulated there thanks to the rock walls.
The rope snapped suddenly…and Lisa fell.
The harness jerked violently as the remaining balloons struggled to support her weight with fewer ropes. She was descending faster now, the water rushing up to meet her. Lisa twisted one more time, reaching desperately for another rope. If she could break just one more, it might be enough.
Her teeth closed around the fifth rope. She didn’t have time to saw through it properly. Instead, she bit down with all her strength and yanked her head backward in one sharp motion.
The rope gave way, and her bottom lip was torn open.
Lisa plummeted toward the water, the wind screaming in her ears.
The remaining balloons trailed above her, still attached but no longer able to support her weight.
She knew they would soften her impact but maybe not enough.
She’d find out soon enough, she guessed; She had maybe three seconds before impact.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make her body as streamlined as possible, arms tight against her sides and legs together.
She’d jumped into water from high places before, knew that hitting at the wrong angle could be just as deadly as hitting concrete.
She drew in a breath and then slammed into the water.
Again, the world went dark and the last thing she was aware of was cold water and even more blood filling her mouth.