Stacey joined her colleagues in shining her torch into the middle of the room.

Three beams converged on the figure of a young boy rooted to the spot.

‘Don’t step forward,’ Dawson warned, aiming his beam down.

The floorboards had given way leaving the boy standing on a thin beam of wood at the very centre of the space. They’d been climbing for at least four minutes and nothing had sailed past them. Stacey had no idea how long he’d been balancing precariously on the single plank, but she guessed it wasn’t going to continue to support him for long.

‘Don’t move, Geoffrey,’ Dawson said.

‘O-okay,’ Geoffrey stuttered, hanging on to the lip of the bell.

Stacey knew that if the beam beneath him broke he would not be able to hang onto that lip. The boards beneath her own feet felt solid and stable around the outside but that was a good five feet from the gaping hole beneath Geoffrey’s feet that dropped all the way to the bottom of the tower.

‘H-help me,’ he whispered.

The fear in his voice kicked her right in the stomach.

‘You just stay still,’ Dawson advised, calmly. ‘We’ll get you down, I promise.’

Stacey marvelled at her colleague’s steady voice when even she could see there was no way they could reach him. Every step forward risked both his life and theirs.

Bryant was already on the phone to the fire service. Unless they were waiting right around the corner Stacey suspected there was little they could do in time.

‘Look around,’ Dawson said, shining his torch towards the wall. ‘Look for something that can help.’

All three torch beams turned away from the trembling child, but Dawson continued to speak, to reassure the boy.

‘It’s all right, Geoffrey. We’ll have you off there in a minute. Just stay still.’

Bryant ended the call to the fire service. ‘I’ll call down to the school and—’

‘No,’ Dawson said, forcefully. ‘The last thing we need is more people stampeding up the stairs, and we sure don’t need an audience.’

Bryant nodded his understanding and began to look around for something to help.

Without moving her feet Stacey shone the torch at each wall in turn. Two arches were cut into each side of the building allowing in the night-time breeze. Her torch found initials that had been scratched into some of the stones, but it found nothing that would be long enough to reach him. But even if there was they couldn’t risk him trying to move off that beam.

‘The rope,’ Dawson said, suddenly. ‘Geoffrey, if I can swing it towards you, do you think you can catch it?’

‘I’ll t-try,’ Geoffrey whispered.

Dawson uncoiled the thick rope, pulled it back towards him and then pushed it forward. The momentum of the rope swing didn’t reach the centre of the space and missed by a good two feet. Dawson grabbed the rope and tried again. Despite him putting all his strength behind it he was throwing something too light to gain motion. It was still a couple of feet shy before drifting back towards him.

‘Shit,’ Dawson said.

Stacey saw the fear growing in the kid’s eyes.

‘It’s okay, Geoffrey,’ Dawson reassured.

He glanced their way before he spoke. ‘I’ve got another idea. I’ll walk it over to you.’

‘Kev, no,’ Stacey cried.

‘Dawson, don’t be stupid,’ Bryant said.

He raised a hand to quiet them.

‘If I go slowly, walking the rope, I’ll be able to feel the boards beneath me. If anything cracks, I’ll jump back.’

‘Kev, no,’ Stacey protested again. He was going to purposely add weight to the fractured part of the floor. He had no way of knowing what beams had been weakened or how much weight they could take.

He met her gaze.

‘I’ve gotta try it, Stace,’ he said.

She shook her head even though she knew the kid was stressing the beam every second he stood there. It could snap at any second.

‘Don’t be a damn fool,’ Bryant said.

‘If you’ve got any other ideas, I’ll give ’em a try,’ Dawson said, removing his jacket and then his shoes.

Bryant said nothing but shook his head.

Dawson took a breath and grabbed the rope. He took a tentative step forward.

Nothing.

He took another.

Nothing.

A third and Stacey realised she was holding her breath.

He took a fourth step like someone heading towards the hole in the middle of the ice.

He took another.

A creak.

He was now a metre away. Two more steps.

‘Kev…’ she whispered.

He held up his hand to quiet her and concentrated as though walking a tightrope.

One more step.

A loud creak.

One more step.

The wood disintegrated beneath his feet.

Geoffrey grabbed the rope as the floorboards fell away beneath their feet.

Both she and Bryant reached forward.

‘Stacey, back,’ Bryant warned.

Dawson’s actions had weakened the remaining floorboards even more. They were only safe if they stayed right on the edge. She couldn’t reach him.

‘Hold on, Geoffrey,’ Dawson said, from above him as they both dangled from the bell rope. ‘Do not let go,’ he warned.

‘O-okay,’ Geoffrey stuttered.

‘Right, I need your help to start swinging the rope, okay kid?’ he said. ‘Between the two of us we can get the rope swinging.’

‘Okay,’ Geoffrey said, bravely, even though Stacey could feel his terror.

‘Right, I want us to aim for my colleague over there, and when we swing close enough he’ll grab you, got it?’

Geoffrey nodded.

‘And then on the next swing he’ll grab me, all right?’

Dawson glanced towards Bryant to make sure he knew the plan.

Bryant met his gaze and nodded.

‘Okay, Geoffrey, swing,’ Dawson said.

They both started bucking on the rope at the same time, causing a slight back and forth motion.

‘Okay, harder,’ Dawson said.

Stacey followed the line of the rope to the roof with the beam of her torch.

Where the rope fed through the metal eye the fibres were worn and frayed.

Her heart jumped into her mouth.

‘Kev, stop,’ she breathed, glancing up.

He didn’t follow her gaze because he already knew. He’d seen it.

‘Swing, Geoffrey,’ he repeated.

‘Kev, no,’

She could see the fibres fraying before her eyes.

‘Stop,’ she said again.

Bryant followed her gaze. His face lost every drop of colour.

‘Dawson, stop,’ he cried, seeing the frayed rope.

‘Swing, Geoffrey,’ Dawson called out, building momentum.

He lifted his head and met Bryant’s terrified gaze.

‘Get ready to grab him.’

‘Dawson, you gotta stop,’ Bryant said, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

‘Get ready,’ he repeated.

The next swing almost reached Bryant whose arms were stretched as far as he could reach.

Stacey’s gaze returned to the rope. It was hanging by a few threads. The weight of both of them was weakening it by the second.

‘This time,’ Dawson said, giving one almighty swing.

The rope travelled further, and Bryant got hold of the kid’s jacket and hauled him to safety.

The rope swung back to the other side of the space.

Just one more, just one, Stacey prayed as Dawson swung away from them. If the rope swung once more, they could grab him. Stacey stopped looking at the rope and looked only at her colleague and friend.

The rope slowed as it swayed at the other side.

Her eyes were locked on his.

He gave her one of his slow cocky smiles as he began to swing back towards her.

‘Kev,’ she said but the word was drowned out by the snapping of the rope as it finally gave way and he disappeared from view.