Jackie decided that a little tact might rescue the situation. “My name’s Jackie, this is Miyoko, and this is Dominic. You can obviously see that we’re friends of Isaac and Sadina’s. Did you . . . were you the ones who took them? Did you kill Kletter?” Tact be damned. Remembering the sight of Kletter’s bloody throat washed tact into the river.

Before anyone could answer, Dominic made a strange gasping noise and pointed toward the middle of the bridge. “Um, who is that?”

Jackie had almost forgotten about the woman she’d noticed earlier, standing there as if frozen, stuck closer to the other bank. She must’ve overcome her apparent fears because she was now picking her way across the treacherous skeleton of the bridge, well over halfway.

“That doesn’t look safe,” Miyoko whispered. “Should we go out and help her?”

The woman named Letti stood up and brushed off her pants. “I’ll do it.”

“Wait,” Jackie said. “I think she’s going to be fine.”

The stranger had regained a lot of her strength and confidence, almost bouncing from foot to foot as she picked up speed. They all stayed silent and watched as she got closer and closer. The woman was probably around fifty years old, but judging by the lines on her face and the weariness in her eyes, life had put up a hard battle.

Finally, she made it. Leaning down to catch her breath, she sputtered out some words. “That was not easy, folks. Not easy at all!”

“What’s your name?” Letti asked. She was reaching into a small pack that had a strap slung over her shoulder. “Go on, catch your breath, that’s okay. Tell us your name, when you can.”

The woman stood up, puffed her chest out a little—she probably didn’t appreciate the condescending tone she’d been greeted with. “My name is Roxy, thanks for asking. My friend fell off that gosh-darn bridge and I’d appreciate your help trying to find him. He’s a tough young fella so my guess is he’s fine, but . . .” She glanced around in uncertainty, perhaps wondering whether she had just walked into a pack of marauding murderers.

“I’ll help you,” Jackie said. “All of us will. Come on.”

But she’d barely moved one step when Letti pulled a gun from her knapsack and pointed it in the air. An actual gun. She pulled the trigger and the boom of it seemed to shatter Jackie’s eardrums and anything else that might be inside her skull. She stumbled away, her hands on her ears, cowering as if the shot might shatter a glass ceiling above them.

“What the hell was that for?” Miyoko yelled.

Jackie had never seen a gun before coming across the sea. She hoped to never see one again.