The Problem Of Thor Bridge Novels & Stories

She was going to stay and blow the span, locking herself on the wrong side of the gorge with the guards. "Martha, no," I said. "Go!" she roared. She slammed her thumb down on the red toggle. A sharp, metallic echoed from beneath the wooden planks of the footbridge. It wasn't a loud explosion. It was the sound of high-heat chemical packets melting through the main structural bolts holding the southern steel cables to the rock face. The bridge groaned. A terrible, screeching sound of tearing iron filled the canyon as the thick wire cables snapped one by one, whipping through the air like steel snakes.

He stepped in closer, his body filling the gap between them. "No list of your achievements or your goals." Already, he knew she was top of her class. He jabbed his finger at the screen, at the mess of red lines for stress cracks and weight failure. "That," he announced, his voice falling to a rough, angry level, "is a design for the new Sky-Piercer Bridge. It's new, it's expensive and it's totally unstable. And it's costing this company ten million dollars a week extra." He leaned in, all his focus on her, his eyes locked into hers. The rest of the room, the smart people and the fancy equipment, was gone. There were only he, she, and the flaw on the screen.

Outside, the SoHo skyline had vanished behind a white sheet of water. “It’s a washout,” Gareth murmured, his voice serious. “Visibility is zero. The Golf will get pushed around by the crosswinds on the bridge. It’s too dangerous.” I checked my phone. It was time to go, but the sound of the wind howling against the building was terrifying. “We wait it out,” Gareth decided. It wasn't a suggestion; it was the tone of a man used to giving orders. The Hamilton Shield was up. “Yeah... I think you’re right. I’d rather not end up in the East River,” I agreed.

Julian didn’t look up. He fed another twig into the fire, watching it catch. “We need to stay sharp,” he murmured. “Lazarus wasn’t exactly sure what happens on the bridge.” He sat back on his heels, eyes narrowing at the thought. “Said not many have made it across… and if they did, they didn’t come back.” A pause. “The bridge is hexed. Designed to keep people from traveling further. To protect what’s beyond. To trap what’s already crossed.”

She replied, almost yelling, and I paused in fear. "If you must get to the wizard kingdom by the only way I know, you'll have to cross the bridge of thorns and flames," she replied, her teary eyes darting towards me. "That bridge of thorns and flames?" I asked with fingers crossed. "Yes, Ro," she nodded slowly, confirming my fears. The bridge of thorns and flames is a bridge we only heard about in myth and legend as young guardians. I have never once believed in its existence. It is a long, narrow bridge laced with nails and thorns around it that burn like lava. It was built with a strange form of magic to protect the wizards when they were faced with great threats.

By midday, the rumors started. Not about Seren. About accidents. A collapsed footbridge. A spoiled grain store. A missing courier. Each one isolated. Plausible. Easy to dismiss. Together, a pattern. “They’re testing thresholds,” I said as we crossed the ridge trail. “Seeing how much damage can pass as coincidence.” Seren nodded. “And who speaks when it happens.” A shout echoed ahead. We broke into a run. The footbridge lay snapped at the center span, half submerged in the river below. Two people clung to the rocks downstream. Others shouted from the bank.

"The password is 0519." Anathea froze at once. May 19th was the day the Castenea Suburban Bridge collapsed. It was also the death anniversary of the people in the photo on Gregory's office desk. Adam had been the inspector in charge of that project. So this was Gregory's deepest scar and the reason behind his relentless revenge against Adam. Something unreadable passed through Anathea's eyes. Gregory rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her from the side.

"It certainly has a unique charm. Though I must say, the smell leaves something to be desired." I snorted. "Yeah, eau de brimstone isn't exactly Chanel No. 5. But check this out." I pointed to a massive structure looming in the distance. "See that bridge? It's modelled after the QE2 bridge at the Dartford Crossing topside." "Fascinating," Sebastian murmured, leaning in for a closer look. "But why recreate an earthly structure here?" I smirked. "Because it's a perfectly evil design. Traffic jams for miles, toll booths that never work, and don't even get me started on the wind factor. It's like a little slice of human misery in Hell."

She was now standing on the top floor of the tower, facing a 30 feet long drawbridge, which was the only way that linked the tower with the back mountain on the other side. Aurora looked under the drawbridge. Underneath the drawbridge was the broad, rapid river that went around the city of Grace Ruin. The tower stood 10 stories high. If one tripped and fell off the drawbridge, they would immediately be swallowed by the fast-moving river, and die without a full body. The drawbridge swayed dangerously in the gushing wind. Snow started to fall, making the surface of the bridge extra slippery. Hellen and Paul were moving forward slowly, holding on to the cord of the bridge for support.