“You seem like you’d be hard to slow down, injury or not.”
I take another swig of water. “I hope so. But this line of work humbles you. I’ve known people who made it through a whole career with nothing but scrapes, then switched to coordinating; they’re in great shape. Then sometimes you do somethingyou’ve done a hundred times, pinch a nerve and… Let me just say, nerve pain and opioids are no joke. Sometimes the fall itself isn’t the thing people struggle to survive.”
“But it’s worth it,” Christine says, as if to assure herself.
I offer what I hope is a comforting smile. “Ah, here I am, scaring you the day before our big stunt.”
“You’re not scaring me,” she says too quickly.
“Yeah, I am. You’re scared, and you should be. I am. It’s what keeps you sharp.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Hm. Yeah, maybe Iwouldlike another week on the ground…”
“You’ll do fine. Andy’s not joking when he assigns you a good night’s sleep. That’s the last thing left to do: try not to worry about it, be fresh and well-rested tomorrow.”
“Yeah, no worries. What’s that other thing they say here? She’ll be right?”
I nod and finish my water. “She’ll be right.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
MYLO
The restof the evening is a blur of logistics. Christine heads out once Andy releases us, presumably to get to bed early; she might have taken our little heart-to-heart seriously.
I feel more justified in my irritation, even as it fades. Fake people are dangerous in this line of work. If someone can look you in the eyes and say everything’s safe, but they haven’t checked it themselves, that’s the biggest risk. We all have to put on a brave face and keep the production moving. So, while forgoing comfort is part of the job, it’s all the more important to have a crew that never compromises safety.
As hard as we work to keep things moving smoothly, any stunt performer worth their salt will happily be fired before they put a colleague’s life on the line.
Christinecanbe real when she wants to be, which means I was right. And if we really did have a breakthrough… I can swallow my pride and have a good time.
I chat with Pauli and the other riggers for a while, working out the plan for tomorrow so we can hit the ground running. Or hit the sky running, as it were.
I’m about to join a group of the stunt crew headed back to the hotel when the wind shifts, bringing a subtle thread of sweet coconut to my nose.
Christine should be well inland by now.
I hesitate. It was a bit odd she left so early; she usually hangs around. Maybe she’s more rattled than she let on. It’s really not my problem, but…
I grab my backpack and phone from the van, then wave off the offered ride. “Just something I need to check on. I’ll catch the next van out.”
Pauli and a few riggers are still working for another hour or so, so I won’t be stranded.
I follow my nose, and it leads me up along the beach. I hesitate as I head around a low cliff that cuts the set off from view, but if Christine’s doing something stupid, I might be the only one who knows she’s out here…
After a quick hit from my vape, I sigh out a cloud of vapor. The wind shifts to my back, carrying her scent away from me, but I keep an eye out as I continue up the beach.
A few minutes later, there’s her scent again—but behind me. I turn back and there’s just enough light to make out the peak of the crane. If I passed her, but she’s not inland, then she must be…
I jog toward the waves, anxiety seizing my chest. I’ve had a few dark nights where I considered walking into the ocean and not coming back…
Her scent catches my nose, and I move faster toward it, kicking off my sneakers—until I see the silhouette of a dark figure. Not in the waves, butonthem, gliding.
Is she…night surfing?!
As the wave approaches the shore, the flash of her platinum blonde hair is unmistakable, though her dark wetsuit blends into the water.
