Final Girl - Michelle Schusterman (e ink epub reader .TXT) 📗

do about this job offer,” he said quietly, opening his laptop again. “You’d better get ready quick if you want breakfast—the buffet closes in half an hour.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded. Somehow, I made it to the bathroom before the tears spilled over.

CHAPTER SIX THE THING ON THE BRIDGE

Post: The Yongheng Bridge

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Wow, I guess those two clue words were too easy! AntiSimon, Hailey, and presidentskroob (hi, Carrie!) all get virtual candy corn.

We’re heading out to the Yongheng (“Eternity”) Bridge north of Beijing this afternoon. It’s too cold here for us to camp out overnight, so we’ll be doing most of our filming in the early evening, right after the sun sets.

This bridge looks amazing, and I can’t wait to check it out. It’s about five miles long, and it winds around the sides of the mountains. In some places, it connects one cliff to the next—and the tallest section is over 1,000 feet high! The clouds hang particularly low over this mountain range, which means that even during the day, a lot of the bridge is shrouded in mist. And on some parts, we’ll be INSIDE the clouds.

But that’s not the creepiest thing about this bridge. It’s the site of a demonic haunting. Construction on the bridge took twice as long as planned because workers insisted they felt a presence with them, hidden by the clouds. Some sort of force. It whispered to them, howled at them—even tried to PUSH them off the bridge! But unlike all the other places we’ve visited, there’s no story about someone who died here, no ghosts looking for revenge or anything like that. Whatever’s haunting this bridge was never human.

That’s the legend, anyway. I didn’t believe in ghosts when I joined Passport to Paranormal, and I do now. But I’m still a skeptic! We’ll see what happens tonight . . .

I pretended to sleep during most of the drive through the mountains, occasionally peeking through the window to take in the view. The fog grew thicker and thicker, and soon I could only catch glimpses of sky and rocks and grassy hillsides through the haze.

Dad sat up in front next to Jess, helping her navigate as she drove. As usual, they were chatting animatedly about the area, its history, the architecture of the bridge . . . but I couldn’t help thinking Dad sounded a little subdued.

It just didn’t make sense. I understood him worrying about me, and I totally got why he was upset about the whole Shelly Mathers thing. But all that stuff he’d said about how much work this job was? That wasn’t Dad at all. He loved working. Back in Chelsea, he’d get antsy after just one day off if we didn’t have plans to keep him busy. And he worked overtime at Rise and Shine, Ohio! a ton, coming up with ideas for new segments, trying to get bigger celebrities as guests.

I’d gone over our conversation a hundred times in my head. And I couldn’t help thinking Dad was trying to convince himself he didn’t love hosting Passport to Paranormal as much as I knew he did. He’d told me he hadn’t made his decision yet, but it seemed pretty obvious to me that he had. He wanted to take the talk show job and move back to Ohio.

It wasn’t what he wanted, it’s what he thought was best. For me.

Maybe the thing that bothered me most of all was that a small part of me wondered if he was right. I’d agreed to go to my mother’s bridal shower in March, which was a huge step . . . but our relationship was still pretty damaged. And I was being haunted by a ghost version of myself. I’d thought a lot about why the Thing would shred Dad’s contract, and I suspected it was because it did want to go back to Ohio. After all, it was the me my mom wanted. I imagined pretty ghost-me floating down the aisle in my bridesmaid dress at my mother’s wedding and snickered, which I quickly disguised as a snore.

Whether the Thing was actually real or not, I had some serious issues.

After nearly two hours, the van slowed to a halt. I hung the Elapse around my neck and grabbed my backpack before hopping out. The cold air definitely had a bite to it, but it wasn’t nearly as frigid as New York had been. Just down the dirt road, I spotted an entrance to the bridge. Oscar slid out of the van and joined me.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” The sun was just beginning to set between the mountains, and between that and the low clouds and fog, the sky was a beautiful haze of deep blues, purples, and pinks. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see bits and pieces of the bridge clinging to the sides of the mountains and disappearing in the distance, like it went on forever. Well, that explained why it was called the “Eternity” bridge. My fingers itched for my camera, but I resisted the urge to start taking photos. I didn’t need the Elapse’s weird anxiety aura kicking in any earlier than necessary.

Oscar glanced over at the crew unloading equipment from the back of the van. “So, gonna give the thoughtography thing another try?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. I guess I could try.” In truth, I was still so distracted by the conversation with my dad that I wasn’t sure I could focus enough.

“I think Jamie’s right,” Oscar said. “It might not get rid of the Thing, but it’s a good first step to figure out how.”

I smiled a little. “Unless I’m crazy, and there is no ghost.”

Oscar looked at me sharply. “What?”

“What?” I shrugged. “Come on. You know that’s a possibility. It’s like when I first told you about Sonja. You believed I thought I’d seen her, but—”

“Kat, I believe you,” Oscar said firmly. “I believe it’s real. I promise.”

My throat tightened a little. “Thanks. But just because I