I readjust my grip for a better hold and pull myself along the crossbeam as fast as possible, knowing all too well from climbing trees that there’s only so long my arms alone will support me. I don’t let myself look down, but the growling and the snapping sound of the dogs’ jaws are right below me. I shinny all the way to the wall and immediately brace my feet against the stones, relieved to take some of the weight from my strained arms and hands. I study the wall for a path to the nearby crossbeam that leads to the other workbench. My gaze falls on a carved wooden coatrack against the wall. It’s a thin foothold and not ideal, but it appears sturdy enough to hold my weight. I reach my leg out toward it, hoping I can grip it with my toes, but it’s just out of my reach.

Shit.

If I can’t get to the coatrack, there’s nothing I can do but climb back to my useless worktable or attempt to fight off the dogs with my boot dagger. From behind me I hear Ash grunt and my forehead beads with sweat. I’m running out of time to make a decision before Logan slices up Ash or I’m forced to give in to the strain of bracing myself against the wall. I have no choice but to risk jumping, I tell myself, because it feels better than telling myself This is a terrible plan that will likely end in me being ripped limb from limb.

I take a deep breath, make my plea to the climbing gods, and remove my feet from the wall, swinging them like a pendulum. One shot. I have one shot.

I build up momentum, my legs reaching farther and farther with each swing until I’ve hit capacity. It’s now or never, I think, my arms already starting to ache. I focus on the wooden coatrack secured to the wall. And even though I really don’t want to, I let go of the crossbeam. My boot catches the edge of the coatrack, and I use my momentum to launch myself forward toward the next beam. My right hand gets a grip on the rough wood, but once again my left hand slips. For a terrifying second I dangle by four fingers over a sea of snapping jaws.

It takes every ounce of my strength to get my left hand around the beam and pull myself as fast as humanly possible to the other worktable. I drop down onto it, my hands burning and my breathing labored.

Logan swings at Ash, once again forcing him a step backward.