The Pale Bridge
The laser level hummed, a thin, high-pitched whine that cut through the damp air of the atrium, but the line it cast on the far wall did not hold steady. It wavered, then snapped off, leaving Elias Thorne staring at a patch of grey concrete that seemed to ripple in the low light. He adjusted the dial on his instrument, his fingers numb despite the heater they had dragged in from the van, and...
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