Page 49 of Silent Trail

Then, just as Sheila felt herself sliding along the boards, Finn slammed into the man, tackling him to the ground. They rolled several times before Finn came out on top, punching the man twice until he stopped fighting.

"Sheila!" Natalie shouted. "Hang in there!"

Sheila's arms burned with the effort as she fought to maintain her grip, every fiber of her being focused on the girl whose life hung in the balance. She knew that if she failed now, the guilt would haunt her forever.

The girl's eyes, wide with terror, locked onto Sheila's as she stared up at her would-be savior. "Please," she whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't let go."

"I won't," Sheila promised, barely able to get the words out, so great was the strain of her effort. "Just…hold…on."

Sheila's fingers slipped a fraction of an inch further, her sweat-slicked palms betraying her. She fought the urge to scream in frustration, focusing instead on her breathing.

Inhale, exhale. Just like you were trained to do—find your center, harness your power.

"Help me!" the girl cried, her voice cracking under the strain.

"Stay calm," Sheila whispered through clenched teeth, her mind racing. Finn was busy pinning the knife-wielding maniac to the ground, and Natalie – strong, capable Natalie – couldn't move from her wheelchair to assist. It was all on Sheila.

"Sheila," Natalie called out, anxiety lacing her words. "You can do this!"

Gritting her teeth, Sheila summoned every ounce of strength she had left. She pulled her legs up until she was in a kneeling position. Then she leaned back, slipping her legs forward and digging her heels into the splintered wood of the bridge. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest as she pulled on the girl's arm, inch by agonizing inch.

"Come on," she said with a grunt, her vision blurring as pain pulsed through her skull. "We're not dying here. Not today."

Her arms trembled with the effort, but she refused to yield. She had already lost so much; she wouldn't let this girl slip through her fingers too.

With a final, Herculean effort, Sheila hauled the girl up and over the edge of the bridge. They collapsed onto the wooden planks, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"Thank you," the girl whispered, her voice trembling with relief as she clung to Sheila's arm.

Sheila lay there, her body battered and exhausted, but alive. She had done it—alone and against all odds. And for the first time in a long while, she felt something other than the crushing weight of failure: she felt hope.

The chilling wind cut through Sheila's sweat-drenched clothes, making her shiver as she lay on the worn wooden planks of the bridge. The girl she had just saved huddled close to her, tears streaming down her face.

"Hey," Sheila whispered, trying to sound reassuring despite her own exhaustion, "you're safe now."

"Thank you," the girl managed to say, her voice weak and shaky.

As they lay there, the soft sound of wheels against wood approached. Natalie rolled up beside Sheila, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and respect. She locked the brakes on her wheelchair and leaned forward slightly, scanning her sister's body for any signs of injury.

"Sheila," Natalie said softly, "I'm so proud of you."

Sheila blinked back tears, surprised by the warmth that flooded her at her sister's words. It was rare for Natalie to express her feelings openly, especially when it came to their turbulent relationship.

"Thanks, Nat," she said, her voice cracking. She knew the gravity of what she had just done—faced the fear of failure and emerged triumphant.

Natalie glanced over at the girl Sheila had saved, her protective instincts kicking in. "Are you alright?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

The girl nodded, wiping away tears with a trembling hand. "Yes, thanks to her."

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Sheila winced as she massaged her aching shoulder, the pain a constant reminder of the ordeal she had just gone through. The adrenaline rush had begun to subside, leaving her muscles tense and sore, but the satisfaction of success far outweighed the discomfort. She couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing she'd helped save a life.

The dilapidated old railroad bridge loomed overhead, its rusting metal frame casting eerie shadows on the ground below. Sheila, Natalie, and Finn stood at the edge, bathed in the faint glow of the pre-dawn sky. A cacophony of sirens filled the air as police cars and ambulances clustered nearby, their flashing lights cutting through the darkness.

"Are you sure you're alright, Sheila?" Natalie asked, concern etched on her face as she studied her younger sister.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sheila assured her, forcing a smile to mask her lingering pain. "Just a little sore."

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