Paths Crossing Novels & Stories

She couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. Midday brought them to a swollen river, its banks churned to mud by the night’s deluge. A rickety bridge swayed precariously over the rushing water, its ropes frayed and wooden slats cracked. “We have to cross,” Aria said, eyeing it warily. “There’s no other way through.” Caden tested the first plank, his weight making it groan. “It’ll hold,” he said, though doubt flickered in his eyes. “You go first with Rollan. I’ll follow.”

He asked softly, helping her to stand back but she pulled her arm back roughly, fuming at him. “I am fine. I don’t need your help.” She hissed, turning her head away, not wanting him help. He sighed as they both crossed the bridge too. Then Daphne and Randall crossed, they were slowly crossing. Half of them were on the other side, waiting for each other. “You go.” Kriss whispered, looking down, motioning to Juniper and Ahlum to go first. She nodded but the moment they stepped on the bridge, the ground began to shake at a high magnitude.

"Move!" "I got this." Ceara closed her eyes and held up her palms. "Part the path and lead the way. Allow us passage on this day. Get us quickly where we need to be. As I will, so mote it be." Like the Red Sea, pedestrians slowly moved off the street and onto the curb, allowing a narrow path for the jeep to get through. Tristan painstakingly eased forward, his grip on the wheel turning his knuckles white. Every inch gained knocked Brady's pulse closer and closer to stroke level, and he imagined his head might explode. Would be better than this limbo. He was all but crawling out of his skin.

Magic went wrong. Bonds snapped. Children disappeared through doors. Entire villages were swallowed. Emmy’s stomach turned. “What was it?” “Possibility.” “What?” “Unrestricted possibility.” Emmy stared. Amethra continued. “The Crossing connected realities. Usually the roads remained stable. But too many doors were being opened without understanding what connected to what.” Emmy thought of herself. Opening doors. Changing systems. Breaking anchors. “What happened?” “Worlds began bleeding into one another.” The sky tore.

“No battle. No breach. No pursuit.” Hallie looked down at the two messages. The second protected crossing had met an armed threat and survived without becoming a military operation. This time, the promise held.

Wind howled through the gap, making the entire structure sway dangerously. "We'll have to find another way," Luna said immediately. "That bridge won't hold all of us." I walked to the edge and examined it. "The structure is compromised, but passable for one person at a time. We cross individually, spacing our departures by three minute intervals." "Thelma, no." Xavier grabbed my shoulder. "Look at it. Half those boards are missing. One wrong step and you'll fall." "The probability of successful crossing is approximately sixty three percent if proper caution is exercised."

Both go down at the same time. ” It's a great view, " Serena said admiringly. A nod was given by Tora. Even they have not yet made the crossing to the destination. A call from one of the locals distracted both of them. “Are we going up this hill?" Tora asked to be sure. “Sorry, Sir. If it has been ordered since long ago maybe we can provide a more appropriate one. The Tini Panegara bridge is collapsing and until now it has not been repaired,” explained The Crossing officer to Tora.

Inspector Eallric's 404 picked up pace as it raced down a sloped, remote alleyway which went on below a bridge that connected Brickfield Row and Dove Route together. The alley, Providence Passage, had congested waste bins - places of tourism for flies and maggots, nearly everywhere one's neck turned.

" He accelerated. The engine roared, eating up the desolate miles. I touched the pocket of my cargo pants. The notebook was still there. The Valravn, I thought. They know the terrain. They are probably watching us right now. I scanned the tree line. Nothing but gray bark and snow. But I knew better. Predators didn't let themselves be seen until it was too late. THE CROSSING Dead Man's Drop was a geological scar a massive ravine that separated the pack territories from the unregulated North. A single bridge spanned the gap. It was an old steel truss structure, rusted and groaning in the wind. Damian stopped the truck at the entrance to the bridge. "Checkpoint," he said, pointing ahead. There