The girl laughed self-consciously. "It's getting gray out. You'll see me soon enough."
But she'd see him, Roddie realized. He had to talk fast.
"What'll we do when it's light?" he asked.
"Well, I guess the boats have gone," Ida said. "You could swim the Gate, I guess—you seem tall and strong enough. But I couldn't. You'll think it's crazy, but I've given this some thought, and even looked it over from the other side. I expect to try the Golden Gate Bridge!"
Now he was getting somewhere! The bridge was ruined, impassable. Even her own people had crossed the Strait by other means. But if there were a way over the bridge....
"It's broken," he said. "How in the world can we cross it?"
"Oh, you'll find out, if you take me up there. I—I don't want to be alone, Roddie. Will you go with me? Now?"
Well, she could be made to point out the route before he killed her—if nothing happened when she saw him.
Uneasy, Roddie hefted the hammer in his hand.
A giggle broke the pause. "It's nice of you to wait and let me go first up the ladder," the girl said. "But where the heck is the rusty old thing?"