by Ralph Gibbs
“I thought you might be dead.
“Those guys couldn’t hit a tree if it were right in front of them,” Franklin said, looking her over. “What happened to you?”
“She did,” Danica said motioning to Maggie.
“Hi,” Maggie said, waving bashfully. “I hit her in the head with a frying pan.”
Danica rolled her eyes. “How about we stop telling people that,” Danica said. “Franklin, this is Maggie, Randel, and Andy.” She opened the passenger door. “This is my dog, Whisper.”
“You have a dog now.”
Danica beamed. “I do.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He cut his paw.”
“Can he walk?” Franklin asked.
“Some, but not much.”
“And you?”
“I hit her harder than I intended,” Maggie said. “She has a concussion and needs to rest.”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Franklin said. “I guess it’s a good thing you brought transportation.”
“What’s the plan?” Danica asked.
“Head to Colorado,” Franklin said.
“I don’t think it safe to head south,” Danica said. “On the way up here, we ran into a few of them Atlanta boys. Luckily they didn’t recognize me. If we run into them again, we won’t be able to talk our way past.” She looked around. “Let’s find a place to spend the night. Tomorrow, I say we should head straight for the mountains. If we need to, we can hold up somewhere for a bit until the storms pass. That’ll give Whisper and me a chance to heal up.”
“I’ll be right back,” Franklin said. He walked back into the store and emerged holding a Newbenny directory. “If we’re going to cross the mountains, we’ll need to load up on gear. We’ll probably end up doing a lot of walking.”
The next morning, with new backpacks, gear, dog food, snacks, and a portable DVD player for Andy, they headed toward the mountains. They purposely loaded extra supplies with the realization they might have to abandon them if they ran out of road. But if they got stuck somewhere, the additional supplies would work to their advantage. Later that evening, as they passed back into North Carolina, it started drizzling again, and within the hour, the wind and rain picked up to the point that Randel had to slow down to less than ten miles an hour to keep from running off the road.
As Danica watched out the back-seat passenger window, she thought she saw a light in the distance. She was about to say something when it disappeared.
“We should find a place to stop for the night,” Maggie said as Danica tried to figure out if she was imagining things. “It’s too dangerous to drive in this, especially if the roads are washed out.”
“Any objections?” Randel asked, and then screamed as he slammed on brakes to keep from hitting a drenched man standing in the middle of the road trying to get their attention. The car slid to a stop narrowly missing him. Randel rolled down his window, and Franklin aimed his pistol at the face that leaned in.
“Thank God,” the man, who appeared to be in his early sixties, said between labored breaths. The gun didn’t bother him. He expected it. “I need your help. My daughter is trapped in a car that’s stuck in the river. It’s pinned against the bridge, but I’m not sure for how much longer it’ll stay that way. Can you help us?”
“How far to the bridge?” Franklin yelled over the wind and rain as he jumped out of the car.
“About a hundred feet down that road,” the man said pointing to a muddy side road, the type used by farmers to get to their field.
“Show me,” Franklin said. The man ran down the muddy road, and Franklin followed close behind. Randel put the four-wheeled SUV into low gear and trailed after them.
As the SUV neared the bridge, Franklin motioned for Randel to stop. Franklin opened the back hatch and pulled out two bundles of rope, handing one to the stranger.
“Randel, you and our new friend head to the bridge,” Franklin said. “I’ll be there in a moment. Maggie, stay with the kid. Danica, stay back and watch our back.”
“You expecting trouble,” Danica said, pulling out a rifle.
“I always expect trouble.”
As Franklin approached the bridge, he could hear the torrent of water rushing down the river. It was as if he were at a rock concert standing in front of twelve-foot speakers. He could feel the vibration of the river roaring past. A portion of the bridge on the far side had washed away.
“We have to hurry,” the man screamed into his ear. “The bridge is washing away. That wasn’t missing before.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Franklin yelled back.
“She won’t be much help,” the man said. “She can’t walk. She was in an accident as a child. Her wheelchair is in the back seat.” Franklin didn’t like the sound of that. It made any rescue doubly difficult, but it couldn’t be helped.
The bridge consisted of twin concrete square tunnels that eventually had a concrete road slapped down over the top of them. The car was wedged where the two tunnels butted together. What stopped the car from being dragged through the tunnel, and the girl to certain death was a large tree jammed across the tunnel closest to them.
“Do you have a plan?” Randel said, coming up next to him and surveying the situation. “For the life of me, I don’t see how we’re going to get her out of that car alive; if she’s still alive.”
“I’ll pull her out through the windshield,” Franklin said after a few moments of studying the situation. “The force of the water will make it impossible to get her out through the passenger window.” Franklin ran back to the road and found a rock bigger than his hand. “When I break the windshield, I’ll tie her off with the other rope and you two pull her up.” Franklin moved to the road and motioned for Maggie to drive closer to the bridge. When Maggie was at the edge, Franklin tied one end of the rope to the car, splayed the rope through the gap between the bridge and the railing and then tied the end to himself. Franklin looked at the rushing water below, steeled himself against doubt, and then climbed over.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Randel said. “If you fall in that, you’ll be dragged under, and this rope won’t save you. If you had rescue training, that’d be one thing.” He suddenly realized he didn’t know the first thing about Franklin. “Do you?”
Franklin shook his head. “No, but I can’t leave her to die,” he said. “I’ve got to try something.” He knew it was an impossible situation, but he didn’t care. Maybe if he saved this girl, he could balance out the list he kept. Maybe that was the answer. For every life he saved, he could cross a name off the list, somehow atone for what he’d been forced to do.
“All right, lower me down,” Franklin shouted over the din of the storm. He grabbed Randel by the collar and pulled him close. “Maneuver me down to the roof.” Because the water was hitting the passenger side and spraying upward, very little water flowed over the roof. As long as he didn’t slip into the water, he should be fine. Randel was right: if he fell in, the water would wash him downstream. It would also rip him out of the rope, probably snapping him in half in the process. He envisioned the rope twisting around his neck and popping his head off like it was a grape on a vine.
As Franklin touched the roof, the car began to sink. “Lift me,” he yelled, pointing with his finger in case they couldn’t hear him. When he was off the hood, he made a fist, and they stopped hoisting him. Looking down, he figured the car must have been resting on a portion of the tree under the water, and his weight upset the balance. He tried to hang suspended over the car, but the spray spun him like a top. He reached out and grabbed hold of the roof to stop the spin. He pulled himself over and peered in through the windshield and found the young woman in the passenger seat neck-deep in water.
Franklin tapped on the windshield with the rock. She looked at him in shock and then grabbed for the windshield as if she could grasp his hand. She screamed something he could not hear, but he imagined she was screaming for help. He showed her the ro
ck and motioned for her to turn her head. She nodded her understanding. He raised his hand to strike the glass when the car suddenly shifted. The hood sank further. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the tree. Either way, he had to act fast. It took him three times, striking the glass to break the windshield. The first strike only managed to put a small chip in the glass like a car might get driving down the highway behind a gravel truck. The second strike hit the glass at an awkward angle, and he nearly dropped the rock. The third time was the charm. After the initial break, he used the rock to shatter other areas of the window until he could kick it and peel it out of the way.
“Come on,” he screamed. She reached out and put her arms around his neck. He pulled her from the car as it began to sink deeper when water rushed in through the broken windshield. Behind him, he heard branches snapping. The water seemed to be winning the war with the tree. “I got you.” He pulled her out of the car and wrapped his legs around her lower body. So much for tying the free rope around her. He began to be pulled up. She slipped a bit through his legs, and the water nearly ripped her from his grasp. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back to him.
With the added weight, Randel and the stranger were having a problem pulling them up. It was all they could do to keep the rope from slipping through their fingers. Wrapping the rope around one arm, Randel used the other to frantically motion for Maggie to back the car up. She understood and put the car in reverse. Once Franklin and the girl were at the top, Randel reached out and pulled them over. Shoving the car into park, Maggie grabbed a blanket and rushed to the bridge.
The stranger rushed over to hug his daughter.
“Keep him away from me,” the girl screamed, as Franklin tried to undo the rope from his waist. She tried to back away from the stranger’s advance. “This monster has been holding me hostage for months.” Maggie threw the blanket around the woman and looked up at the man.
“She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” the stranger said and pulled a pistol from the small of his back, taking them all by surprise. “Thank you for the help, but I’ll be taking my daughter and leaving. We’ll be needing your car too.”
By then, Franklin had finished untying the rope. He squared off against the man.
“Don’t,” the man yelled to be heard. “You’ll be dead if you take another step. Then I’ll kill everyone else. All I want is her and your car. Just pick her up and put her in the car, and we’ll be leaving.”
“What kind of person are you?” Maggie screamed. “Take the car and go. Just leave her with us.”
“I can’t do that,” the man said. “I promised her father I’d take care of her.”
“You never knew my father,” the woman screamed at the man. “He’s been dead for more than a decade.”
“Andrea, you don’t know what you’re saying,” the man said.
“My name’s not Andrea, you sick fuck,” the girl screamed as she grabbed a handful of mud and threw it at him ineffectually. “It’s Deborah.”
“Look,” Randel yelled, holding up his hands, trying to calm the situation. “Lets all calm down. It’s been a traumatic experience for everyone. How about you put the gun down, and we’ll go find a nice warm place to sort this all out.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, pointing the weapon at Randel. He never finished aiming as he dropped the gun and grabbed his shoulder. Looking over, Randel spotted Danica with the rifle in hand. Franklin rushed the stranger and tried to take him down. There was a struggle, and as the man pushed away from Franklin, he stumbled and fell over the railing. Rushing to the edge of the bridge, Franklin and Randel watched the man bounce off the roof of the car and into the rushing water. For a few brief moments, the water pinned the stranger against the passenger door, but his added weight seemed to upset the balance, and the passenger window shattered. The force of the water rushing through the new opening folded him like a lawn chair and stuffed him inside. As more water rushed into the car, it sank further under. As it did, the tree finally lost its battle, snapped in half and began its long journey down the river.
Deborah looked up at Franklin. “Is he—”
“He’s gone,” Franklin said.
“Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Danica asked as she came over.
“In the car,” Franklin said. He reached down and scooped up Deborah and carried her to the SUV. It was a tight fit, but after rearranging their supplies, and Whisper, they fit inside, but they were all soaked and freezing. Randel turned the heater to high.
“We passed a small housing complex a few miles back,” Randel said. “Let’s head back and find someplace to get warm. This far into the mountains, all the houses are likely to have a fireplace. If we have to, we can burn the furniture.”
“What about those Atlanta boys?” Maggie said.
“I don’t think we have to worry about them,” Franklin said. “The major isn’t stupid. He’s already lost a good number of men. He knows we’re heading to Colorado, but he has no idea which direction we’re headed.”
“He could call for help,” Randel suggested.
“He knows that by the time any help arrives we’ll be long gone,” Franklin said. “Besides, the doctor’s gone. What does he have to gain? He may not believe us, but someone will have spotted that transport. Word will get back to him. He has better things to do than try to get revenge against us.”
“Let’s hope,” Danica said.
“Hey, look at that,” Randel said, spotting a light as they turned into the housing complex.
“So, I wasn’t crazy,” Danica said. “When we passed by here earlier, I thought I saw a light, but it disappeared so fast I decided I was seeing things.” She rubbed her head.
“Whoever’s home has electricity,” Maggie said. “I hope they’re friendly.”
Franklin and Randel rushed up to the house and pounded on the door.
“Hello, the house,” Franklin said as he pounded on the door again. When no one came to the door, he knocked harder and yelled louder. He waited a few more moments and then headed around back. Finding the back door locked, Franklin pulled out his knife and pried it open. Drawing his gun, he went inside.
“Hello,” Franklin yelled. “We mean you no harm. I know this isn’t the era of good feelings, but we have an emergency. If there’s anyone here, please speak up.” Hearing nothing, he made his way to the front door and opened it. “I don’t think anyone is here.”
“How does an empty house have electricity?” Randel said, carrying Deborah to the couch.
“No, don’t put her on the couch,” Maggie said. “Put her on the floor. As soon as we find some dry clothing, we can put her on the couch. Danica, can you see if you can find blankets.”
“I saw some wood on the back porch,” Franklin said.
Danica returned carrying a fleece blanket. “God, I love fleece,” she said. “This should warm her up in no time. There are more blankets in the closet down the hall.”
“Randel, start a fire,” Franklin said, returning with an armload of wood. “I want to look around the neighborhood before settling in for the night.”
“I’m on it,” Randel said.
“I’ll go out with you,” Danica said to Franklin, picking up the shotgun.
“Once you get the fire going move the couch closer and let the girl warm up and get some rest,” Franklin said. “Lock the door behind us.”
CHAPTER 47
Franklin and Danica returned from their scouting expedition and weren’t surprised to find the lights off, and the group huddled around the fireplace, asleep. Danica thought it looked like a soft, cozy scene that she—were she endowed with a single ounce of artistic talent—might have been tempted to paint and preserve. Where she lay on the couch, Deborah centered the scene with Maggie sitting on the far end, her head resting against the back cushions, snoring softly. Andy, covered with a blanket, head resting near Whisper, lay curled on the floor at Maggie’s feet. Randel sat on the lazy boy chair to the left of the
fireplace wrapped in what looked like a blanket with sleeves. A rifle rested on his lap. He was the only one still awake.
“You find anything . . . or anyone?” Randel asked, sitting up straighter and disturbing the moment. Franklin shook his head.
“It looks like a new development,” Danica said as she started to peel off her cold, wet clothes. She grabbed a blanket from the closet and finished undressing. “There are about six houses, including this one, that are livable, with another six, close. It wouldn’t take much work to make them all livable.”
“And there’s no one around?” Randel asked.
“No one that we could find,” Danica answered. “It’s pretty spooky. Every place is spotless. It’s as if they knew we were coming and ran off to the woods.” She shrugged. “You guys find anything?”
Randel stood up, a broad smile on his face. “The house is solar,” he said excitedly. “The lights are on a timer, that’s why they were on.” He laughed. “Hell, even the refrigerator works, though most of the stuff in it was spoiled. The only thing they don’t have is running water, but there is a well in the backyard so if anyone wants, they can heat some water and have a hot bath.” Randel pointed to a door in the kitchen. “There’s a pantry with plenty of food. A lot of it is camping food with military rations mixed in. By the look of things, I think this might be a survivalist community, but if it is, where are they? There aren’t any bodies in the house.”
“We didn’t see any bodies inside any of the other houses either,” Franklin said. “Maybe they all went down to the river.”
“Maybe we better not drink from the well until we check it,” Danica said.
“I didn’t even think about that,” Randell said, making a face. “Good thing I had my fill of water tonight.”
“Oh yuck,” Maggie said, sitting up.