A Glimpse of Evil

by Victoria Laurie

  My eyes focused on the river for a moment and a terrible feeling really set in. “Ohmigod! Look out!”

  But there was nothing we could do. Within a few heartbeats the car was caught in the current and Candice and I were in serious trouble.

  The Porsche twisted and turned and huge chunks of debris slammed against the sides. All the while the interior continued to take on water. In total panic now I tugged at the door, trying to get it open. “We have to get out of here!” I shouted.

  Candice reached over and undid my seat belt, then hers. “Abby!” she commanded. “Try to remain calm!”

  In the next instant a giant tree limb slammed into our windshield, spraying us with glass and water. I screamed and flailed my hands around wildly.

  Candice grabbed my wrist, pulled me to her, and shook me. “Focus!” she commanded, while water poured into the hole made by the tree trunk.

  “We’re going to die!”

  “No, we’re not!”

  The car tipped then and sent us tumbling over. Candice fell right on top of me and for one terrible moment my head was completely submerged. I began to flail about again and all I could think about was how I didn’t want to drown.

  Something else slammed hard into the car, and for a brief second, it tipped up again, allowing Candice to move off me enough for my head to get above water. I sputtered and coughed and felt Candice grip the back of my neck tightly with one hand while she pushed her torso against me.

  I had no idea what she was doing until I heard more glass breaking, and realized she was kicking out the glass from her side window. “Stay with me!” she yelled when she finally got the glass free.

  I tried to focus on her instructions, which were short and to the point. “Push yourself to the top of the window and get out of the car! Once you’re free, hold on until I get out. Whatever you do, don’t go into that river without me!”

  The moment she finished speaking, I clawed my way forward, through the window, and out onto the side of the car. I held on for dear life, but nearly lost my grip when the car slammed into a large rock and wedged against it. Rushing water surged all around and pressed me up against the side of the car so hard that it was difficult to breathe. “Candice!” I screamed, fearing that something had happened to her inside the car.

  To my relief she finally appeared, and shimmied out of the window. “Hold on!” she commanded.

  But as she said that, movement out the corner of my eye caught my attention. To my horror I watched as a giant tree limb came barreling down the river, aimed straight for us!

  I looked up at Candice for a split second. She shook her head no. “Don’t!” she cried, knowing what I was thinking. She then made a desperate grab for my arm. But I knew there wasn’t time for her to help me. That limb would smash me flat in the next second.

  And so, with a hard shove I pushed away from the car, and was immediately sucked into the torrent.

  Chapter Ten

  Okay, so, in hindsight, maybe letting go of the car and taking my chances with a raging river wasn’t the best idea, but at the time, it certainly seemed preferable to getting smunched.

  Some of what happened next is still a little fuzzy, but pretty much I found myself immediately submerged and tumbling around underwater like a rag doll in a washing machine.

  For several panicky seconds, I had no idea which way was up, and I found out quickly that swimming was futile. For the most part I just prayed a lot and tried to hold my breath, hoping that with lungs full of air I might pop back up to the surface before I actually drowned.

  Instead, I got clobbered by something heavy that raked against the top of my head and sliced along my scalp. Reflexively I put my hand up and felt the rough uneven texture of bark. I grabbed for it almost without thinking, and that minor move, more than anything, is what saved my life.

  I managed to get a firm hold on my first try and pull my head above water. The moment my mouth cleared the surface, I sucked in a huge lungful of air, and continued pumping my chest like a bellows to feed my starving lungs.

  Once I was properly fueled with oxygen, I could take stock of my situation—which was grim at best. I discovered that the same massive tree that had come charging at me while I was clutching the side of the car was the one that had chased me downstream, conked me on the head, and was now taking me on a log ride. Together we were barreling down the river with tons of other debris, and in the distance I saw the unmistakable sight of white water. There were rapids ahead. “Oh, fork me!” I gasped, and in the back of my mind, for no good reason I mentally patted myself on the back for not swearing, even though my life was about to end and it no longer really mattered.

  I eyed the banks on either side of the river. Both were impossible to reach with this kind of a current. I then tried steering the massive piece of wood that was keeping me afloat, but it was too big and the water too fast to get it to cooperate. I tried to think of something, anything, that I could do to avoid the rapids, but absolutely nothing came to mind. I was S.O.L., people. Sheep outta luck.

  And then, out of nowhere something long and dark flew out across the river so fast that I almost didn’t catch it. In the next instant I heard a thwang, followed by a snap, and I was suddenly staring at a red rag, dangling from a rope suspended over the river seventy to eighty yards ahead. “Grab the rope!” someone on the right bank shouted.

  I looked desperately along the right bank for the owner of the command, but couldn’t see anyone. “Focus on the rope!” he shouted again, and I quickly obeyed, turning my head to focus on that rag dangling just above the water.

  My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest; it was beating so hard. The rope was getting closer and closer, and if I didn’t manage to grab it, there was little doubt about my chances in those rapids.

  “Please, please, please, please, please let me make it!” I whimpered as the distance closed between me and the rope.

  “Put your arm up!” the voice commanded.

  With a trembling hand I did as he said.

  “Try and loop your arm over the top, then let go of the tree and grip the rope with your other hand!”

  The rope was low enough that I felt I could do it. I was headed straight for that red flag. Drawing closer, and closer, I had all my attention focused on it when something smacked hard against my shin and I cried out. As I did so, I lost my grip on the limb, sank under the water, and lost sight of the rope. Using every ounce of energy I had left, I kicked my legs and reached overhead. My palm connected with something and reflexively I closed my fingers around it.

  I could have wept with relief when I realized I’d somehow managed to grab the rope! Holding on for dear life with one hand, I managed to clutch it with my other too, but quickly discovered that the current was working against me. It was so strong that it wouldn’t allow me to get closer to the rope so that I could pick my head up out of the water.

  I tried twisting and turning, but that almost cost me the hold on the rope. With significant effort I pulled myself up like doing a chin-up and managed to get my mouth clear enough to take a gulp of air before I had to relax my arms again and sank under the swift water. I realized that my situation was incredibly dire. I knew I probably had enough energy for one or two more chin-ups before my arms would give out. I barely had enough reserve strength to hold on to the rope. Still, I counted to three, and pulled. I managed to get my chin above water long enough for a couple of pants while I considered my options.

  I thought about trying to shimmy sideways along the rope to make it to the bank, but that would take time, and I knew I couldn’t hold my breath long enough to make it.

  What I really needed was air, and that’s what drove me to relax my arms, sink under the water, and use my body to twist onto my back. With my arms crossed behind my head, I was able to prop my head just above the waterline. I closed my eyes and just focused on filling my lungs with air.

  I was at that point where I was ready to consider what I could do next to
get out of this mess when I felt a tremendous tug on the line. Arching my back and looking over my left shoulder, I found the source; there was a huge tree branch snagging the line. And, just behind that, something that looked like a refrigerator coming fast and furious down the river.

  Luckily, it was far enough off to my left not to hit me directly. Unluckily, I figured that once it hit the rope, it could very well snap the line and all that effort I’d exerted just to hold on would be wasted.

  About then I reached that moment that happens in a life-or-death situation where you’re just so tired, and your situation is just so bad, that you mentally give up and let go. There was no way I was going to make it; too many variables were against me. It was useless.

  In those next few seconds my life did not flash before my eyes. I didn’t think about Dutch, or my family, my friends, or even my dogs.

  I wasn’t sad, or afraid, or worried about what would happen next. I suppose I just felt numb. Almost peaceful. Really, I think I was simply resigned.

  I took one last big gulp of air.

  Counted to three.

  Closed my eyes.

  And let go of the rope.

  I sank under the water for only a second before something fixed around my waist and slammed me into something hard. I felt a crushing blow to my ribs, but I was so tired and so defeated that I did little more than jerk reflexively.

  And I wasn’t really able to figure out what was happening to me, although I was aware of moving against the current. Slowly, methodically, I was traveling upstream.

  And then that instinctual reaction we have to breathe kicked in, and I got my head above water again and gasped for air. “Hold on to me!” someone shouted.

  I was too exhausted to speak, and even though my eyes were open, I couldn’t get them to focus. And I was certainly too exhausted to hold on to anything. My arms and legs were like rubber and I was now fully aware that the water was cold and I was freezing. Odd how I hadn’t noticed that before.

  “You have to try! Come on, ma’am! Put your arms around my neck and hold on!”

  Was he kidding?

  “I can’t move us to the shore if you don’t help me!”

  Nope. Not kidding.

  I closed my eyes again and wished to be anywhere else in the world except here. Where could a girl get a pair of ruby slippers when she needed them?

  That arm acting like a vise grip around my waist shook me, and my eyes opened. Lazily I stared up and managed to focus my gaze. Antoine LaSalle’s fierce expression did a lot to revive me. “I am not letting go of you!” he shouted so loud I winced. “You are not drowning today—do you hear me?”

  I managed a tiny nod.

  “So put your arms around my neck so we can get out of this river!”

  Tears welled in my eyes. How the heck was I going to manage that? I could barely stay conscious. Still, I decided to try.

  Slowly and with a great deal of difficulty, I managed to cup my hands behind Antoine’s neck. He then shifted his weight so that my legs looped around his waist and I was pinned to him by the force of the river.

  “Don’t let go!” he shouted in my ear.

  I winced again and thought he didn’t have to yell at me. I was doing my best after all.

  I placed my head against his chest. He was so nice and warm compared with the water. I watched it race past us, and felt it against my back. I thought it was a good thing that Antoine was so tall. He could touch the bottom here. I could feel him taking slow, methodical steps through the water. I could also see the strain on his neck muscles as he gripped a rope attached to something onshore and slowly, step by step he pulled us forward.

  And then, my back cleared the water. A few moments later, my hips were above the waterline too, and just another couple of steps and Antoine had us out of the raging river.

  He sank to his knees, breathing hard, and laid me gently on the ground. I closed my eyes, grateful for having met this man that I’d obviously misjudged, and waited for feeling to return to my limbs. Around us I heard crashing sounds and I opened my eyes to see a bunch of firemen charging through the woods to get to us.

  Antoine unfastened the harness that was tied around his waist, and tossed it to the side. Rescue workers swarmed around us and I was eased onto a backboard, then bundled by a blanket and told not to move.

  A penlight was flashed into my eyes, and the paramedic hovering over me made a comment about a head wound. I reached up and felt the top of my head, realizing it was throbbing. Sure enough, when I pulled my hand away, it was smeared with red.

  “Easy there,” said the paramedic, laying my hand by my side. “Just try to lie still.”

  “Abby!” shouted a familiar voice.

  “Candice?” I said, my voice no louder than a whisper.

  “Ohmigod!” she replied from just off to my right. “Abby!”

  Out the corner of my eye I could see her, soaked to the skin and bundled in her own blanket, as she tried to push through two rescue workers to get to me. “Ma’am!” one of them yelled at her as she shoved her way forward. “Let our men work on her for now. You can see her in a moment.”

  “Is she all right?” Candice asked, her voice pitchy and panicked.

  I managed to lift my hand and wave at her. “I’m okay,” I croaked.

  Candice’s knees gave out from under her and she would have sunk to the ground if the rescue workers hadn’t been holding her. They helped her back over to high ground, and my backboard was picked up by four rescue workers who then carried me up a slope to a waiting ambulance. Before I could even protest, I was loaded into the back, and after Candice was helped up to sit next to me, we were whisked off to the hospital.

  Later that afternoon the atmosphere got really chilly. A cold front in the form of our significant others blew into south Dallas and greeted the both of us with some mighty frigid air.

  Candice and I had both agreed that, upon reaching the hospital, we would do our best to cover our tracks and not tell Dutch and Brice what had actually happened, and we were well on our way to inventing plausible scenarios for how we’d managed to get so banged up when we saw a CNN broadcast on one of the hospital TVs, featuring an overhead shot of Candice perched precariously on top of her yellow Porsche while the river raged around her. In the next scene, the helicopter news crew captured my rather dramatic rescue as Antoine waded the last few feet to shore with me clinging to his chest.

  And just two hours later the cold front blew in.

  “What the hell were you two thinking?” Brice demanded, pacing the floor in front of my gurney.

  “The water didn’t look that deep,” I said, trying to defend Candice from the earful I figured she was about to get.

  “Don’t you know not to drive through running water?” Brice snapped. I noticed he was not directly addressing Candice. Instead he kept his comments focused on the floor while he paced angrily back and forth.

  “I’ve driven through way deeper water than that,” I replied. “It rains in Michigan all the time, and I’ve never had a problem crossing water back home.”

  “There’s a difference between moving water and still water,” Brice growled, looking up to lock eyes with me. “It only takes a few inches of running water to carry a car off a road.”

  “Oh,” I said. I glanced at Candice, who looked terribly guilt-ridden while she sat in a nearby chair, wearing a pair of scrubs and a thick blanket. “I should have known better,” she admitted. Glancing up at me with pitifully sad eyes, she said, “I am so, so sorry, Abby.”

  I tried to shrug, but I was too stiff and sore to pull it off. “It’s okay,” I told her. “We both made it.”

  Dutch had not said a word. Instead he wore his cop face, but his lips were pressed together so tightly that I knew he was super pissed.

  “What the hell are you two doing this far north anyway?” Brice asked. Clearly he wasn’t through giving us a tongue-lashing.

  “Investigating a case,” Candice told him.
/>   Brice stopped his pacing abruptly and his head finally snapped in Candice’s direction. “What case?”

  “A little girl went missing and I was hired to look into it. Abby’s been helping me out with some of the legwork.”

  At that moment Antoine LaSalle popped his head into my room. “Oh, sorry,” he said, seeing it full of people. “The nurse said I could come see you.”

  I almost laughed at Dutch and Brice’s reaction when they took in the six- foot-five man of steel in the doorway. “Lieutenant!” I said, happy to change the subject. Belatedly I noticed the thick bandages on his hands, wrists, and arms. “God! What happened?”

  LaSalle waved off my concern. “Rope burns,” he said. “Nothing major.”

  But as he took a step, I could see that he favored his left leg, and like me, he had scratches all along his cheeks, upper arms, and forehead.

  Dutch stepped toward him and offered his hand. “Special Agent Dutch Rivers,” he said formally.

  “Lieutenant Antoine LaSalle,” my savior replied, holding up his bandaged hand sheepishly. Dutch lowered his immediately.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t sweat it, sir,” Antoine told him.

  “I take it you were one of the rescuers?” Dutch asked.

  “I helped Ms. Cooper out of the river.”

  “Helped me out of the river,” I repeated with a smile. “It’s like he’s talking about giving me a hand out of the pool. The lieutenant here saved my life, although I’m still not sure how you managed to get that rope across the river in time.”

  Antoine seemed amused. “Crossbow,” he said, holding his arms the way he would if he were shooting one. “I got a rope attached to the end of the arrow and shot it into a tree on the far side of the river. I then had to hope you could hold on long enough for me to get to you, using my climbing harness and another line.”

  “You’re a regular G.I. Joe,” I said, thoroughly impressed.

  “How did you even find us?” Candice asked.

  Antoine cleared his throat and almost didn’t answer, but as we all waited for him to say something, he finally admitted, “I followed you after you left my house.”