by Ike Hamill
“Well?” Tim asked.
“Too hard to tell with the flooding,” Lisa said. “But, it looks like it could be it.”
“We’re going either way,” Ashley said. “Might as well go.”
“The question is whether we push out and let the current take us, or we stay in the shallows where we can control our speed. If we’re past the falls, we can go as fast as the river will take us. If we’re not, then we better be safe,” Tim said.
“Let’s give it until the sun is overhead,” Lisa said. “If we don’t hit anything by then, we go fast.”
Everyone nodded.
Somehow, it was even slower going downstream than it had been going up. The current was constantly nudging them into snags, and once they got caught, getting uncaught was a royal pain. They not only had to fight against a tree or rock, but they also had to fight the current that constantly tried to pin them to the obstacle.
Ashley’s arms were burning well before noon. Lisa looked like she wanted to collapse as she squinted up at the sky. Tim followed her gaze and then wiped sweat from his forehead.
“At least there’s no more rain,” Tim said.
It was getting hot, but they didn’t dare jump in the water. There had been no sign of the fish. Still, they could be anywhere.
Ashley used her pole to push them away from a giant rock.
“Careful,” Tim said.
“I’m being careful.”
“Please don’t start this again,” Lisa said.
Tim and Ashley both pushed at a tree. It submerged and Ashley lost her balance for a second. She barely caught herself before she toppled over.
“Watch it!” she said.
Tim only sighed.
“We have a decision to make,” Lisa said, pointing.
Ashley had been so focused on the upcoming obstacles that she hadn’t seen the big picture. Ahead, it looked like the river narrowed down. That meant fast water was coming.
“Let’s tie up and scout it out,” Tim said. He grabbed the rope. Ashley tried to find a way to pole them closer to the shore. There were too many obstacles—limbs and rocks—to get close enough where they could disembark. Soon, they were being pulled out into the flow.
“Shit,” Tim whispered. He dropped the rope and grabbed his own pole.
Working together, they almost squeezed the raft into a narrow gap. The current was too much. It pulled and tugged at the raft, moving them out of position while Lisa tried to get a rope around a limb. There was nothing stout enough for her to latch onto.
“We’re going,” Lisa said, looking over her shoulder. “We better grab ahold of something.”
“No,” Ashley said. “I’ll jump in. It’s not that deep. I can tie us to something so we don’t get swept down.”
“Absolutely not,” Tim said.
Lisa barked orders.
“Tim, grab Penny. Ashley, stow that pole and hold on.”
Before she had even finished the command, the raft was picking up speed. They were rushing toward the gap and the rumble of the rapids came to them, bouncing off the rock wall that rose to the south. It looked like the river had cut a jagged path right through the center of a hill. Even if they did managed to tie off to something, it would be nearly impossible for them to climb to safety here.
“This is it,” Tim yelled. “These are the falls we saw. This could be trouble.”
“You think?” Ashley said, rolling her eyes.
It was obvious now. The river was going to take a hard right as they passed through the canyon. It was impossible to accurately gauge elevation from the satellite photos, but it appeared that there was a significant drop associated with these falls, if Ashley had read the shadows correctly. The raft began to bounce and Ashley looped one of the straps of her pack through the cross member of the raft. She tightened it and then put her arm through the other loop so she could hold on. Tim took the collar off of Penny and stuffed it in his pack. He had one arm around the dog and his other gripped a rope.
Lisa was on her knees, holding on with both hands as the raft bucked beneath them.
The raft hit a rock and spun away. Water splashed over the surface, catching Ashley right in the face and making her cough. The front end of the raft hit another rock and for a moment the back end rose. She thought they were going to tip over when the raft finally spun and flopped back down.
“We should have walked,” Tim shouted.
“No shit,” Lisa yelled back.
They river dropped several feet and they picked up speed. The wood beneath them cracked and groaned when the front end of the raft caught beneath a tree that was stuck in the falls. The limb wasn’t going anywhere. Ashley could see where it was lodged between two boulders.
If the raft remained stuck there, she could see a path up the side of the hill to their north. They had to act quickly.
“Tim! Go up that way,” Ashley shouted as she pointed frantically.
He glanced and shook his head. He was holding the dog tight to his side as the raft began to submerge. The pressure of the water was trying to drive them under the log.
“Go!” Ashley shouted.
“No!” Lisa said. “It’s too dangerous. Penny won’t make it.”
Ashley wanted to jump up and show them it was possible, but she didn’t have time to fight Tim and Lisa.
“Go now!” Ashley said.
She started to shout again, but she was cut off by a blast of water that surged over the raft. It tugged at her arm as the pack went down with the raft. It felt like it was going to pull her arm out of its socket. Ashley tried to let go of the pack, but her forearm was wedged between the raft and the strap. The next thing she knew, she was dragged under the water.
Ashley tried to take in a breath, but all she got was a mouthful of water. It had been a mistake to put her arm all the way through the strap—she understood that now that it was too late to do anything about it. Her lungs burned and she flailed with her free arm to try to reach the buckle on the strap.
With a frantic look, she saw nothing but swirling water above. She couldn’t tell how far it was to the surface. In a moment, it wouldn’t matter. The raft shifted beneath her and she was jerked downwards. A few minutes before, she would have done anything to help Tim, or Lisa, or even Penny. She would have gladly risked her own life for theirs. As she was pulled further under, she realized that they were all in this alone. There was nothing anyone could do, and their survival relied on nobody but themselves.
The raft moved and a limb hit Ashley in the chest, driving the last of the air from her lungs. Her arm strained, about to snap. She was pinned beneath the water, buffeted by the churning water, and she couldn’t stop herself from trying to take in a breath.
Her lungs filled with river water.
Part Three:
Split
Chapter 45: Corinna
The engine sputtered and the motorcycle bucked beneath her until she pulled in the clutch and put it in neutral. Corinna let it roll to a stop as she looked around. She had been riding for a while, not paying attention to where she was going, letting her mind wander.
None of the houses around her looked familiar. That was okay. She would figure out where she was tomorrow.
Corinna lowered the kickstand and it dug into the sand. As she put her leg over the side, the machine toppled.
“Great,” she said.
Corinna walked up a buckled concrete walk and turned the handle so she could push the door open with her foot. It smelled relatively clean. If a house had been compromised—taken over by rats, or the back half smashed in by a tree—she could always tell by the smell. This one was okay.
She pushed the door shut behind herself and watched the dust swirl in the shaft of sunlight that came through the living room window.
The recliners were aligned perfectly to point at the TV above the fireplace. They were his and hers—green for the man, and a smaller yellow for the woman. A coffee table between them had two coasters that had seen a lo
t of use.
With the sun setting, the kitchen was gloomy. Corinna uncapped a scented candle that was covered in dust. It still had a bit of lilac smell after sitting there for so many years. With a wooden match, she lit the thing for some light and brushed away enough dust to make a clean spot.
She found a spoon in the drawer and used it to open a jar of pickles that someone had given her.
Corinna sat down and watched the flickering flame as she ate.
The pickles were past their prime. They had been bouncing around in her bag since the previous fall and they were a little softer than she liked. Still, the garlic and vinegar hit the spot. Corinna took another one out and chased it with some bottled water.
Most of the time, this was her life. She invaded a house, slept one night, and then moved on in the morning. The idea of putting down roots felt ugly to her. Growing up in the city, her dream had always been to move to some tropical island, where she could dig her feet down into the sand and live off of coconuts. A place like that didn’t even exist anymore, as far as she knew.
Beneath the counter, Corinna swung her feet.
Her whole life had consisted of waiting. She had been waiting to finish school when the world ended, and then she had waited patiently for Liam to grow up so she wouldn’t have to take care of him anymore. Then, when she was finally cast aside by him, she realized that she was waiting for the world to return to normal. Even normal was abnormal now.
The candle went out. Smoke spiraled up from the curled wick.
Corinna sighed and went back to her pack for the box of matches again. They were supposed to strike anywhere. As old as they were, she could only really strike them on the side of the box. The first match disintegrated before it caught. The second one gave a little smoke, but didn’t light.
It smelled funny.
For a moment, the smoke smelled like sulfur—just what she would expect. Then, the smell changed. It went sour and Corinna was reminded of the pickles. The next moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her chest heaved with effort, but air wouldn’t go in. All she could think was that somehow the candle had become poisonous.
Corinna lurched for the back door, and fumbled at the deadbolt. She was ready to crash through the glass when she finally got it unstuck. Corinna ripped open the door and shouldered her way through the storm door, spilling out onto the deck.
The air still wouldn’t come. Corinna had a terrible thought—the pickles were bad. Somehow they had been infiltrated with some bacteria that caused muscle paralysis, and that was why she couldn’t breathe.
Black spots danced across her vision and she stumbled down the steps to the overgrown yard. Her foot caught on an exposed root and she tumbled into the weeds.
Corinna sat up with a gasp. The air was as sweet as roses, now that she could breathe it again. For a moment, she sat there, dragging in deep breaths and staring at the house. Light flickered in the kitchen window. The back door stood open. It was a trap, and it had almost snared her.
Corinna stood up on shaky legs and grabbed the deck railing to support herself. Stopping each tiny step to test her breath, Corinna climbed back up to the deck. She could see through the kitchen window to the counter. The candle was burning again. A breeze startled her and she froze again. It must have swirled through the screen door and into the kitchen because the candle flickered too.
Her bag was still inside. The open jar of pickles sat on the counter.
She heard an engine running in the distance.
Corinna backed away from the house again and then ran down the stairs. Whoever was running that engine, she wanted to catch them before they got away. With no gas in the motorcycle, she would be walking if she didn’t.
The yard was impossibly overgrown. Corinna stomped and clawed her way through a forsythia and then had to give up on trying to open the gate on the chainlink fence. She climbed over it and spilled to the other side, only to fight through more leaves and branches. In the distance, she could still hear an engine. It was puttering at idle.
“Hey!” she yelled.
She felt a tightness in her chest and nearly panicked. It passed quickly and she could breathe again. A moment later, the engine sputtered. There was something familiar about the way the engine nearly failed and then caught again. Corinna figured it out before she even pushed through the boughs of a low tree and found herself in the front lawn again. The engine she heard belonged to her own motorcycle.
Corinna ran down the path, slowing as she approached the idling motorcycle. It had been dead—she was sure of it. The engine had died and she had assumed that it had finally run out of gas.
Picking it up, the engine evened out. She unscrewed the gas cap, saw some fluid down in the tank, and revved the engine. The motorcycle was puttering along. Corinna glanced at the house. Her curiosity won out. She moved the motorcycle to a better patch of pavement, made sure that it would stay upright, and then she squared her shoulders to the house. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward.
The living room looked different this time. It was a trap. Maybe if she collapsed in here, the house would digest her and spit her bones out the back door. Corinna heard her heartbeat in her ears as she glanced at the his and hers recliners. She was holding her breath.
She took a few steps toward the kitchen and saw that the candle was burning.
It had been out, and the motorcycle engine had been dead. These were the facts at hand, regardless of how little sense they made. Corinna picked up her bag and put the pickles back in it. She grabbed the candle too, and carried it in front of her as she walked back through the living room. Her pulse was beginning to pound in her head. Soon, she was going to have to breathe.
At the front door, with the candle still lit, she cautiously let the air out of her lungs and she dragged in fresh air. It didn’t burn, and it didn’t make her want to pass out. Corinna looked down at the flame. The wind came up and threatened it. Turning her back to the gust, she kept the candle lit.
Corinna walked it back to the running motorcycle.
Before climbing on, she blew out the candle and dumped off the pool of wax so she could stuff the candle into her bag. Orienting herself with the setting sun, she gunned the engine and turned the motorcycle around. Donnelly wasn’t that big of a place. It was impossible to get so lost that she wouldn’t be able to figure it out at the next major intersection.
Sure enough, after a couple of stop signs, she hit a road that she recognized. Corinna rode the motorcycle down the hill and headed toward town.
Chapter 46: Robby
“The famous puppies,” Robby said, looking at the monitor. He glanced through the kitchen window at the truck. The kids were still there. Jim was doing something on his tablet and Janelle was back to her book.
Coming up the walk, Corinna waved to the kids and then let herself in.
“Hey,” Corinna said. She put a scented candle down on the counter. While they watched, she took out a match and lit the candle. It crackled as it lit and then burned steadily. “There’s something wrong with the air. Come with me.”
Robby followed and heard Jackson asking Liam to stay with the puppies so he could go too.
The cab of the truck was full. Jackson sat in back, bouncing around as Corinna guided them back to the house.
“That’s the one,” she said. She was holding the candle in her lap.
“Wait,” she said, as it sputtered. The flame evened out and she said, “Okay.”
“Jackson,” Robby said. “Come sit up here. If something happens to us, you get the kids out of here.”
“No,” Corinna said, “the engine will die. Didn’t I mention that?”
Robby shook his head. “If you had, I wouldn’t have brought the kids.”
“No problem,” Jackson said, opening the driver’s door and ushering Robby out. “I’ll turn around and face it downhill. Even if it conks out, I can roll us away.”
Robby sighed and walked around the truck. This was a lousy idea, but he was alrea
dy knee deep in it. He decided to see it through. Corinna was generally reliable, but everyone was a little paranoid recently and he wasn’t sure precisely what they had come to see.
She got out of the truck with her hand cupped around the candle as she walked.
“Stay there,” Robby said to his kids. “And do what Jackson says.”
“What if he tells us not to stay here?” Jim asked.
Robby shot him a look and Jim smiled back.
Walking up the concrete path, Corinna seemed more focused on the candle than where she was going. Robby followed close, looking over her shoulder.
“Wait, how come it’s not dark?” she asked.
“How do you mean?”
“When I came here before, the sun was setting. I remember the long light through the front window and the sunset when I went out back. It’s not even close to sunset now. Did I backtrack several hours, or lose a whole day?”
“What day do you think it is?”
“I have no idea. I never pay attention to the day. It seems so arbitrary.”
Corinna climbed the steps to the front door.
“It is arbitrary, but we keep track of it so we can make sense of conversations like this,” Robby said. “And we can make lunch plans for, you know, next Tuesday or whatever.”
“Whatever,” Corinna said, like she was agreeing with him.
The candle flickered again. Robby felt a breeze, so he attributed the dancing flame to that. Corinna stared at it like it might have the answer to some unasked question. She reached forward and put her hand on the door, pausing.
“I have déjà vu,” she said.
“You were here, right? Of course you remember it.”
She shrugged.
“What were you doing before you came here?” Robby asked.
“I was riding my motorcycle around aimlessly,” she said. “You remember, I used to do that all the time before they put the fuel restrictions in place. Ever since they figured out the new fuel, I’ve been back to my motorcycle meditation.”