The Legend by Melissa Delport Page A

you, Rebecca, but you looked pretty shattered when we arrived last night. I thought you could use the rest.” I cannot tell if he is being sincere or making excuses, but I assume it’s the latter.
    By eight o’clock we are on the road again, and by ten we reach the old Harahan Bridge. The broad expanse of the Mississippi River stretches before us. We can see the Memphis and Arkansas Bridge four hundred feet south of us and, between them, the smaller Frisco Bridge.
    â€œWhat do you think?” I ask Reed, both of us staring at the small group of Deranged clustered somewhere near the middle of the Harahan Bridge.
    â€œLet’s go around, take that one.” He indicates the bridge further south. The Deranged are no match for our abilities, but Adam has made us view them differently. We will not hurt any Deranged if we can help it.
    â€œDo you think it’s sound?”
    â€œProbably more so than this one, it’s bigger and it looks a lot newer.”
    â€œI’ll go across first,” I tell the gathered group a few minutes later. “If anything happens, we’ll go back and try the other one. After you fish me out, of course.” I make a feeble attempt at humour that nobody finds remotely funny. The drop into the river below is probably about a hundred feet. With my exceptional Gifts I would probably survive the fall, but I doubt I would remain conscious long enough to haul myself out of the Discovery.
    Reed heads around to the passenger side.
    â€œShould I even try and argue with you on this?” I have known Reed long enough to know that he is coming along, no matter what I say.
    â€œNope,” he slams the door.
    â€œI’ll follow you on foot,” Kwan steps forward. “I’ll keep a safe distance. If anything goes wrong, I’ll get you out.”
    â€œI’ll join you.” Jethro steps in line beside him.
    â€œThanks,” I nod, climbing in beside Reed.
    The Memphis and Arkansas Bridge spans a distance of over five thousand feet and I drive infinitely slowly across it, on high alert for any sign that the bridge might give way.
    â€œThe Humvee is a lot heavier,” Reed points out unnecessarily.
    â€œI figure it’ll hold,” I reply. “There doesn’t seem to be any structural hazard. This bridge will probably still be standing in another hundred years. But rather safe than sorry.”
    â€œI didn’t think that word featured in your vocabulary,” he remarks.
    â€œWhat, safe?” I tease.
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œI know what you meant.”
    We both stiffen as the bridge emits a small creak. In the side mirrors I can see Kwan and Jethro walking on the sidewalk, on the other side of the concrete barriers that separate the sidewalks from the traffic lanes.
    â€œIt’s only the joins between the spans,” Reed offers after a minute of silence.
    â€œGood to know.”
    I focus on the road and we lapse into an awkward silence.
    â€œIt is in my vocabulary,” I say eventually.
    â€œHmmm?” He seems to pull himself back from far away.
    â€œSorry – it is in my vocabulary.”
    â€œMaybe you should use it more often.”
    â€œDon’t you think I know that? I do, Reed, but I can’t snap myself out of this . . . this place that I’m in. I can’t think of anything else right now but revenge. I want to kill them all, and I want them to suffer for what they did.” It feels good to finally admit it to someone.
    â€œBelieve me, we’re on the same page. They will suffer for what they did to you.” He meets my eyes and in that brief moment I see my own anger reflected in the green. With startling clarity it dawns on me that he is just as angry as I am – he simply hides it better. “But you need to focus, Rebecca. Channel that anger and use it. Distancing yourself from your own people isn’t going to get you any closer to your end goal. You need them. You