Just keep going, he told himself. Haul ass. Get across and take a Lyft back to the hotel.

He walked as fast as he could, staring straight in front of him, concentrating on the people. Cars shouldn’t be allowed up here. That was a horrible idea. Cars were so heavy! Had this bridge ever snapped, or was that just in disaster movies? Shit. What about earthquakes?

Oh, God. He glanced to his left to see if the city was crumbling, and saw the water below him. Far, far below him. That was a mistake, looking down. His knees buckled, and suddenly he was on all fours, heaving for breath.

“You okay, mister?” someone asked.

“Yep,” he said, his voice sounding overly loud.

“Are you having a heart attack?”

Probably. “Afraid of heights.”

Could he get up? He didn’t think so. His heart was shuddering in his chest, and his shirt was damp with sweat, despite the cool temperature and breeze.

He felt the tremor coming, felt the earth begin to shudder . . . no, nope, that was just a pickup truck. But what about the wind? Was the bridge swaying? Was it about to break, and all these people would fall to their deaths, screaming, clawing, all the cars and trucks pouring into the bay, the noise thunderous and—

“One step at a time,” came the voice. “You got this, bud. You can do it.” A white hipster dude with a red beard reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet. “Deep breaths, yeah?”

“Yes,” Josh said. He knew all about deep breaths, after all. All that respiratory therapy he’d done with Lauren.

It worked. His fear dropped from a ten to about an eight and a half. The hipster dude beamed at him. “So awesome that you’re doing this. Good for you. He’s afraid of heights,” he added to the few onlookers. Most people ignored him, cruising past, looking at their phones or taking pictures. He appreciated their lack of interest.

“Need an escort?” Hipster Guy asked. “I’m walking to meet up with some friends over on the other side.”

“Um . . .” He didn’t have much choice, did he? He was on the damn bridge. He was stuck. He would take this up with Lauren later. In his imagination, anyway. Maybe it would be good to fight with her.

“I’m David,” said the hipster. “From Arkansas originally, but you know, the culture out here is so intense, and I came out to see a friend a few months ago? And I was like, dude, I’m staying. Seriously. Arkansas cannot compete with this place. Also, weed is legal, right? Just another perk.”