Vidocq and Brigitte shout encouragement as Traven plods across step-by-step. He’s fine until he hits the middle, where the slack in the cables is worst. His feet wobble. He gets a death grip on the two side cables, and teeters, trying to right himself. Each time his balance starts to come back, he loses it again. He’s stuck there, unable to go forward or back.

I’m so focused on Traven that I don’t see Brigitte start across. She’s almost as fast as Candy. When she reaches Traven she stands behind him, moving her weight back and forth, trying to counteract his movements and balance the cables. Gradually it works. Her added weight and sense of balance settle the cables into place. They come across together, a step at a time. When they’re close enough, I pull Traven off the wires to clear Brigitte’s path while Candy grabs her.

Traven walks to the nearest wall and collapses there. Brigitte collapses next to him. He takes her hand and they sit together in the dark.

Delon is next. Vidocq practically has to shove him onto the cables. Delon stands at the end, petrified, looking down into the chasm.

“Paul,” yells Candy.

He tilts his head up slightly.

“Look at me,” she says. “Don’t look down. Just at me.”

After a couple of minutes Delon takes an actual step forward. Then another. Every time he stops moving, he looks down, so Candy yells to him.

“You’re doing fine. Look up at me. Keep looking here.”

He makes it all the way to the middle of the bridge before one of the cables breaks. One of the two walkway cables comes loose with a metallic snap, coiling back to the far end and slamming into the wall. Delon goes down on one knee, desperately holding on to the side cables as the whole bridge bucks and sways. The sound of strained bolts and wires echoes off the cavern walls. After several minutes the bridge stabilizes enough for Delon to stand.

Candy starts to call to him again, but I put a hand on her shoulder. At this point I don’t want anything to surprise or confuse him. Step by uncertain step Delon gets a little closer to our end. Finally he’s close enough for Diogo and the boys to grab. They pull him off the wires and he pukes over the side, down into the chasm like he’s trying to get even with it.

Vidocq is last to cross. He’s not a big man but he’s not petite and he’s wearing a heavy greatcoat. Not standard issue for the Flying Wallendas. He tests the cables before he steps across, shaking the two side cables and gently putting his weight on the walkway. Satisfied, he steps back into the door and opens his coat. I don’t have to see him clearly to know what he’s doing. He’s drinking a potion. Then another. And a third. He shudders. Breathes in and out a few times and steps onto the bridge. And sprints like a goddamn madman all the way across, not touching the two side wires and, from the way it looks, barely touching the bottom one. The wires are letting out sharp metallic screams, straining under him. He jumps the last few feet. I don’t know if he felt it or if he just got lucky, but just as he launches himself, one of the two side cables breaks. Vidocq ducks as it snaps back a few inches over his head. He’s shaking and his face is slick with sweat when he reaches our side.

“Not bad, old man,” I tell him.

“Thank you,” he says, pulling another potion from inside his coat. He downs it and tosses the bottle away. A few seconds later his breathing and heartbeat head back to normal.

“So, what did you take back there?” I ask. “Some kind of bat juice that let you float across?”

He shakes his head.

“No. One potion for balance. One for bravery. And a third to not give a damn about the other two.”

Hattie’s boys huddle at the edge of the chasm examining the wires. Diogo hawks up phlegm and spits it over the side. He and his brothers watch it drop like they’re watching the Super Bowl.

“I don’t suppose anyone following us will be able to come this way,” says Traven.

I take out the black blade and slice through the remaining cables so that the bridge collapses into the chasm. There’s silence and then a huge metallic rattle as it hits the far wall.

“Do you people intend to completely destroy my home?” says Hattie.

“You got paid,” I say.

“We’re really sorry,” says Candy.

“No one ever leaves Kill City, so whoever built the bridge is still around,” I say. “If it’s that important, they’ll come back and fix it.”

“And how long will that take?” says Hattie.

I say, “From the way you talked, it sounded like you didn’t come down here too often, so what do you care?”

“It’s the principle.”

“I doubt that. You’re not the chamber of commerce. You don’t give a damn about anybody else but your clan. If you did you would have said something when I stopped those guys from stomping the kid back there. I think you just want to shake us down for more gifts. We might have another bauble or two but not until we actually get somewhere. And if there are any swamps up ahead or giant spiders or fire-breathing fan dancers, you better say so before we get there. No more surprises.”

She laughs and claps her hands once together.

“No surprises? In Kill City? Boy, you couldn’t have chosen worse if you’re looking for a place with no more astonishments.”

Her sons laugh along with her. Hattie goes to the wall and takes an oil lamp down from a nail. Diogo gives her a match, which she strikes against the rough concrete. It sparks and she holds the flame to the lamp wick. It catches and yellow light fills the chamber. You can feel everyone’s mood lift in the warm glow of the lamp. Our LEDs and flashlights made Kill City look like a broken-down space station. Seeing the place lit by fire, I feel like we’re back on planet Earth.

Hattie opens another door and holds the lamp high.

“With all the noise you fools made, half of Kill City probably knows where we are. But I want to make sure those ahead see us coming. Don’t want to spook anyone.”

She leads us down another level, where the feel is different. Like we’ve moved into a ragged zone outsiders weren’t meant to see. Bare cinder-block walls. Exposed ductwork and steam pipes overhead. We slosh through a couple of inches of dirty water from leaking pipes. No one talks. Hattie is out front, leading us like Moses through the desert. Her boys are spread out around her, as nervous as she is fierce.

The passage narrows ahead. We’re getting into areas with heavier wreckage. Slabs of the upstairs floor lie on either side of us. Looking up through the hole, I can see the night sky. It’s a flat, gray-black slate, all the stars washed out by the lights of Santa Monica. In the dim pools of light from the lantern and our flashlights, the rusted rebar and rows of workers’ coat hooks along the walls look like props from a Roger Corman torture chamber.

Ahead is a narrow tunnel under the wreckage.

“It’s hands and knees here,” Hattie says.

She doesn’t miss a step. Gets right down on her belly, sets the lantern in front of her, and crawls, pushing the light ahead. Her sons follow.

I shine my light into the tunnel and lean my weight on the debris. Nothing moves. The pile is solid and the passage ahead looks clear. Still, I can’t see what’s at the far end.

“You want to take point on this one, Paul?” I say.

“Sure.”

“You’re not claustrophobic?”

“Not at all.”

“Great. Scream if you see dragons.”

“Very funny.”

Everyone takes off their bags and packs. All I have is a flashlight, so I go through next. I don’t want to stick around and watch Candy trying to maneuver her Kekko Kamen bag so it doesn’t get scratched up.

The tunnel is maybe twenty tight feet from end to end. Crawling on my elbows takes a minute or so to come out the other side. We’re a long way from the world now. Dug down into the earth like bugs. Even if the bridge was still intact, there’s no going back. The team following us could be around the first corner. Until I know who they are, I don’t want to take a chance on running into them. That means we have no choice but to follow wherever Hattie wants to take us, and she knows it. On our hands and knees it feels like we’ve crossed a new barrier. We’re moving forward but I don’t like it.