Chapter 4

Suspension Bridge

"Dear Luna,

I tried reaching a few old friends of mine today. No idea if they'll respond. It's been so long since I really talked to people outside my family and my closest allies, but I don't want to lose anybody. I don't know what's coming over me these days. It feels like... I don't know, honestly.

Am I weak? Heh, maybe Lynn was right. Maybe I'm not manly in the slightest. Heh... heh..."


The darkness behind him, Lincoln landed himself against a rising hill. Legs were already growing weary, but he refused to stop. Wiping off the little sweat produced, he marched on through the fog, red light never ceasing its majestic charm. Even as the pale evening sky turned black, it always remained, brighter than even the moon directly above.

He moved until he just couldn't any longer, and dropped the bag carefully against a rather giant boulder. Sighing, he took a seat beside it, really regretting not even bringing a spare water bottle to consume. The whole lack of equipment was really starting to become a bother.

Taking a deep breath, he allowed his hands to rest against the gravel below. Little grass remained this high up against this hill. Mostly pebbles at this point, with little hints of life here-and-there. They made it up here a few times, and it was just as barren as before. Unlike the forest, where the evil thoughts of his own mind kept him company, up here, it was only him, and whatever doubt still remains.

Stomach rumbling, he looked down at the bag. "Jeez, Lunes," he shook his head, "I guess I made it up here fast, huh?" He snickered, looking back down at the black mass below. The forest lingered beneath the heavy fog, with its imposing silhouette still managing to send shivers down the young man's spine. At least from a distance, he felt comfortable laughing about it. "Weren't we stuck down there for days? Heh, guess ya just gotta think for once to get out!"

Catching his breath, his left hand brunched up against some dirt, before discovering something oddly peculiar. Underneath the glow of the distant light, he felt something too foreign to be considered natural. Far from rock or grass, it had a tinge of plastic against his fingers, one that felt natural to be grabbed, but one that also rang something far more foreboding than he anticipated.

Eyes glancing down, he discovered its exact presence. Against the mountainous portion of the island, it looked to be an unfamiliar sight, but for Lincoln, it brought back a familiar memory that nearly forced a few tears down. A lone guitar pick; that's what it was. Purple in color, with a lone white lightning bolt stretching down the middle.

It was covered in dust and grime, to the point that the bolt was practically rubbed off completely, yet the young man knew every detail down to the scratches against its bottom. He scooped it up, staring in awe at its simplistic majesty.

"Holy... I can't believe this thing's still here! Jeez, I thought we lost ya, little buddy!"

Too long it had been. Thirteen years, and yet somehow it remained just as they left it: against the rocks where they rested that one time, as if to mark they actually survived this far. Lincoln assumed it was a bad idea. After all, it was way too small, and a bird may just one day accidentally swallow it up, if it wasn't already taken by the wind by then.

And yet his fears were proven unfounded, for he stared directly at it, still alive against the unruly fog. Did a tear succeed in running down his face? Of course it did. He was just too shy to admit it.

"Lunes! Oh man, you should see this!" He playfully shouted, jumping in joy as if he had won the lottery. The pick fluttered against his fingers, blissfully exploring his fingers while Lincoln pumped his fists repeatedly in the air. "I don't know why I doubted you, little buddy! Of course we'd find you again. Oh man, I can't wait for to see the tower up there with me! Yep, you're not resting down here any longer. Right, Lunes?"

The wind blew heavily, forcing the boy to shiver. Guess that was some sort of sign that they had to start moving. "Yeah, guess so," he chided. Legs were still wobbly; even in his twenties, he felt far older than he really was. Lori didn't lie, he supposed. Even if you think you felt young, age will catch up no matter what. He wasn't even a professional golfer and he felt his legs giving in!

Standing tall, Lincoln prayed he could see the next step on his journey, but the darkness of the night was taking over. At least the fog gave the world an unearthly bluish glow to combat the shadows, but that did little to help. All he had was his trusted unkempt map to see him through. In other words, he was doomed.

"Well, let's see... made it through the hellish forest, and it wasn't that bad this time, so...," his eyes peered down at the cloth, noticing faintly the area directly above. The "Suspension Bridge" as he referred to it. There was a bridge on here? Yeah, he remembered that! A lone one, just hanging precariously over a deep dive into the tumultuous waters of the lake. Wooden, and barely held up by a few pikes that could barely be described as such.

Back then, the thing was ready to collapse, yet they had to cross it multiple times on their attempts, and yet only ever once per run. How did they leave the island so many times again? He never honestly thought about it. It just... happened, he supposed. Weird place, weird conundrums. He was used to it.

"Well, just gotta hope my fear for heights, horrifying drops, and broken bridges subsides for now, right?" He picked up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder once more. "Then again, it was you that taught me not to be scared, right Lunes?"

Besides, he thought, he had a lucky trinket on his side this time. The pick was now with him, and it would see him through the heaviest of darks and dangers. Just like with his sister; just like how it was before...

Before...

"I hate you! I hate you, Luna!"

He froze, failing to realize he already moved quite a distance from his rest spot. His eyes began darting back-and-forth, realizing fast where he was. The island; he's still there. Not that damn room that nearly sealed his fate so long ago. He looked down at the pick once more. Was it supposed to be this heavy?

"Just... just a weird thought. That's all. Don't think about it, Linc. Luna hated when you thought too much!"

Yeah, no thinking. Just press forward. Thinking was bad. Unless it was positive thinking... right? Yeah... yeah, that sounds about right. Ignore whatever it is, and get over that bridge, which now hugged the scenery before him.

Yep, just like before. A broken bridge made of wood and rope. Nothing more, and never meant to be. Who built it was never determined, and as far as they were aware, it was here long before the construction workers arrived on the island. Did they have to scale this broken bridge each time too? How did that work? Especially with so much heavy equipment, the poor thing would've collapsed years ago.

Then again, even after all their attempts, it remained as it did the last time he saw it: cracked, barely held together, yet still trudging after all these years. As far as he was aware, aside from how they escaped each time, this was the only way up to the tower. He could waste time and search for another way up, but deep in his heart, he knew that was wrong.

"It's the only way to prove ourselves, right Lunes?" he asked.

"Right, little brah," Luna responded.

His laughter stopped fast once his foot touched the wood below. The beams squealed at his weight, and already he felt those pikes shift, perhaps wondering if this was the day they finally release themselves from the dirt. He held his breath; this was already going off bad.

But he had to keep going. For her sake.

"It's nothing, Linc. Just a lot of noise. You crossed worse before. Remember the river down in Mississippi? If Rusty didn't remember how to swim, you'd be a goner!"

One foot, followed by another. The bridge swayed and turned, with the beams below shaking even before his foot found a home against them. Some were cracked, others were missing outright. One step nearly plunged him, but he caught the frayed rope quickly, shocked and relieved it decided to stay alive long enough to watch him embarrass himself.

"Don't think... don't think...," he spoke a ritual. Was it helping? Probably. The more he thought, the more his mind wandered down to the waters below. The darkness obscured their presence, but he heard the waves bashing against the rocks. If the fall didn't kill him, then his inability to fight the current will. Both were terrible. Both he refused to let happen.

Halfway there. That's a plus. He was almost there, and everything was working out. He'll make it. He'll survive, and get to that tower, like he had promised years ago.

"I'm... making you proud... Lunes..."

"I hate you! I hate you Luna!"

He froze... and the beam he stood on wasn't exactly inviting to that possibility. It buckled, and before he could recover, he heard the wood snap. "No... oh no, no, no!" He shouted, and as he tried to step off, he heard it give way. His feet failed to react, and soon enough, he found himself falling.

Falling, falling, into the lake below.


"I'm sorry. That's all I can write. What's wrong with me today?"