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His body tense, Julian stepped on the bridge, walking slowly, keeping well on one side, his arm brushing along the rail and finding comfort in the contact, his eyes assessing each board before he trusted his weight to it.
And once safely past the middle -- the point of greatest danger -- it began to seem that everything was as it should be, that this was not the evening after all. With a sense of anti-climax, came some relaxing of both tension and vigilance. He was within a few yards of the opposite bank when a board gave way under his feet. Feeling it move, he jerked back, instinctively clutching at the rail. And the rail moved at his touch, swinging outwards, taking him with it so that for a long, sickening moment he hung, fighting to regain his balance, over the swift-flowing water.