Only way out is over
The rickety boards creaked and the rope bridge swayed as I inched across the ravine, desperately trying not to look down.
The only way out was over. If I just made it across, I would make it to the main road and back to the beach. I could turn around and retrace my steps — but the terrain was too dangerous, filled with jagged, slippery rocks, and it was getting dark.
I was flanked by vines and trees so thick I couldn’t see any of the jungle’s creatures that kept breaking my concentration with their chatter.
I felt the sweat build on my upper lip and drip down my lower back. Partly from fear of the staggering depth below and partly the stifling humidity.
I took a deep breath, cautiously gripped the fraying rope at my sides and willed myself forward.