Weekend In Weighton Final Amazon Version 12-12-12 - Plot & Excerpts
Like a high jumper in reverse, I curved my legs and lower back past the top bar of the cradle, landing heavily on the steel platform. Springing forward from the hip-hop landing, my chest crashed into the bar on the other side. Only the steel tubes stopped me from toppling straight back out. The basket rocked from side to side, but its cables held firm. I sat hunched over my damaged ribs and clung on. I rubbed my chest with my bloody hands, but didn’t actually think I could feel distinct bones anymore. I daren’t look, either. They would be black, blue, and all shades in between. On the bridge above I heard Tommy telling the others he hadn’t heard a splash. From their footfalls and voices, I guessed they were looking over the railings, trying to spot me in the water. I didn’t think they could see the cage, but it wouldn’t take long before they worked it out. In any case, I had to keep moving. I was late for a date. After a few deep breaths, I got to my feet and examined the cradle.
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