by Makenzi Fisk
“I feel like crap. I second-guess every single thing I do now. Maybe time will heal that, and maybe they’ll all forget—”
“Erin. Pull over!” Allie squeezed her palms against her eyes as a white-hot flash blinded her. Like a strobe light in a sleazy nightclub, fragments of images came. Shadows, a pair of animal eyes on the road, squealing tires, screaming faces, and the inertia of hurtling through space. Finally, bone-jarring impact and then… nothing.
Erin braked hard and their bodies were thrown against their seat belts. She pulled the truck onto the shoulder right before the road narrowed for the Pembina River Bridge. The tires vibrated over rumble strips and Rachel let out a disturbed yowl.
“Go there.” Allie clutched the cat’s carrier to her chest and pointed to a trail of tire marks in the knee-deep grass.
“Good thing I have four-wheel drive.” Erin gunned the engine and followed the tracks until they reached a set of downed fence posts tangled with barbed wire. The tracks passed through them and disappeared into the brush along the river.
Allie set the carrier on the floor and stared out her window. There was a flicker of consciousness out there. She unsnapped her seatbelt and shoved her door open.
“Not without me, you don’t!” Erin jumped out right behind her and they followed the muddy trail. Pouring rain soaked them to the skin, obscuring their vision. Erin shook her head like a dog and water sprayed in all directions.
Allie smoothed back her ponytail and twisted it into a knot at the base of her neck. She was guided by her internal navigation system. Go there. Ankle deep in muck, she slicked water from her eyes with her fingers and followed fresh gouges in the ground. Through here. She scrambled into an opening in the bushes. Jagged branches splayed outward and Allie pushed her way through. Erin swore behind her.
“Here!” Allie called out. A minivan was partly submerged in the river with the passenger side underwater. The top half was scraped from end to end, buckling the metal near the slider. Covered in mud, it was not easily visible from the road. Not in this downpour.
“Oh no!” Erin slid like an otter down the riverbank, splashed through the muck, and crawled onto the van.
Allie waded in after her. It was so cold. Her teeth chattered before she reached her thighs. She pulled at the damaged sliding door but it wouldn’t budge.
Erin tried the front and released a deluge of muddy water when it gaped open. An elderly man was slumped in the driver’s seat, confined by his safety belt. “Sir! Can you hear me? Is there anyone else in the car?” Erin probed the unconscious man’s throat with her fingers and released his seat belt.
“He might be hurt. He’ll freeze here.” Someone else was in the van. Someone frightened, so frightened and alone. The only way in was through the open driver’s door. No time. There is no time. “Hurry. I need to check the back.”
“Give me half a minute.” Erin slid an arm under the driver’s shoulders and pulled.
The man looked heavy. There is no more time. Allie hurried to the rear door and pulled at the handle. It was locked. Frigid water rushed around her, raising rough goose bumps on her skin. The cold stiffened her joints.
Panic reverberated through her skull, but it was not her own. Tiny handprints marked fogged side windows. The dark tint prevented her from seeing inside. There was a cry.
“A child! There’s a child!” Break the window. She waded to the bank and seized a hefty rock. She brought it down hard and smashed the glass from the rear window frame. It fell away like a shiny marbled sheet, held together by its laminated tint.
There he was, a child no older than four or five, white-faced and panic-stricken, struggling to escape his booster seat. The river surged around his shoulders and he floundered to keep his head above water.
Allie crawled through the window, over the seat and wedged herself beside him. “I’m going to help you.” Crouched chest-deep, she tore at the booster seat’s unfamiliar clasp with cold fingers.
The boy whimpered. His eyes rolled upward. Was he in shock? Perhaps he was thinking of a happier place.
“The driver’s alive but I can’t wake him. I dragged him onshore.” Erin crawled across the empty front seat. Adrenaline burst from her like electricity. “Is there anyone else?”
The minivan rocked and water sloshed from one side to the other. Would it roll over in the river’s current? Allie spread her feet like Erin had taught her to balance a canoe. It stabilized.
“A kid.” Erin was ablaze with strength. “Is he conscious?” Emergencies were her drug.
Allie was so cold her teeth ached. “This child is freezing. I can’t get the belt off.” Her fingertips were numb.
“I’ll look for something to cut—”
“My knife is in my pocket. Help me. I can’t feel my fingers.” Allie’s foster mom, the most practical woman she’d ever known, had given her the Swiss Army knife. At this moment, its value was incalculable. If she could only get it.
Erin wiggled over the seat and retrieved the knife. With her thumbnail, she slid open the first blade and handed it over. The serrated saw was the perfect tool and Allie plunged it underwater. She worked the strap from the inside out. One more stroke should do it.
The knife slipped from her hand. “My knife!” She ducked under and scrabbled blindly along the seat. She connected with Erin’s fingers in the dark but they both came up empty.
“It’s gone.”
Allie grabbed the seat belt and wrapped her fingers around it. “Pull!”
Erin’s hands joined hers, and with the strength of two, they tore the remaining shreds of seatbelt.
The boy floated free and Allie scooped him to her chest. She stumbled toward the open driver’s door and the van rocked violently. Water surged higher. She leapt out and held him above water. He was already too cold. Chilled to her marrow, her numb limbs foundered.
Erin put an arm around Allie’s shoulders and lent her strength. Together, they made their way across the river and up the muddy bank. They collapsed beside the elderly driver.
The man’s body heat radiated through his soaked clothing. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. His energy was there, but he desperately needed something. Insulin? Sugar? What medical emergency was he having that rendered him unconscious?
Allie curled against him to share body heat. She tucked the child under her shirt. The boy’s skin was cold. He was so weak that she feared it was too late.
“Is the kid alive?” Worry lines furrowed Erin’s brow. The boy was nearly the same age as her nephew.
“Yes, but he’s very cold.”
Erin knelt beside the unconscious man and pressed two fingers to his carotid artery. “Sir! Sir! Can you open your eyes?” She turned to Allie. “His pulse is stronger than before but he won’t wake. I’ll go call 9-1-1. I’ll be right back.”
Allie pictured the green sign right before the bridge. “Tell them we’re at the bridge crossing the Pembina River.”
Erin squared her shoulders, turned and dashed through the wet grass.
Allie tucked her arms around the boy and hugged him close until he began to shiver. That was a good sign. As did every kid at her summer camp, she’d learned that for someone suffering hypothermia, the lack of shivering was scarier. She brought her knees up and surrounded him with all the warmth she had.
He whimpered and she stroked his cheek when he opened his eyes.
“Grandpa,” he whispered.
“Your grandpa’s sick, but help is coming. Here snuggle closer.” The boy tucked his face into her armpit, a baby bird under its mother’s wing.
Erin was back in minutes, her cell phone pressed tight to her ear. She knelt beside the driver and read the lettering on his bracelet. “Diabetic! It says he’s diabetic. Yes, he has a pulse. No, he’s not conscious.” She flung the jacket she’d retrieved from the truck over him and tucked it tight. From her pocket she withdrew a square of shiny foil and quickly unfolded it several times until it expanded into a thermal blanket
.
“Ahhh,” Allie sighed when Erin wrapped it around her and the boy.
“Ambulance is ten or fifteen minutes away. They are coming lights and sirens.” Erin huddled in and wrapped her arms around both of them. Together, they generated an orb of heat.
Allie’s head jerked upright when the sirens approached. “I’m not letting go. You need to guide them here.”
Erin leapt to her feet and bounded up the hill. A red-faced young trooper and two seasoned paramedics followed her back.
“You have the child?” The first medic addressed Allie, still wound tight in the foil.
She nodded and opened the blanket wide enough for him to see.
“Any signs of trauma?”
“None that we could tell. He was still strapped in his car seat.”
He bent for a quick vital check and stepped back. “Good. Keep him warm.” He turned to the man on the ground. One medic held C-spine while the other rolled the unconscious driver onto a plastic board. They strapped him in and hauled him out to the waiting ambulance.
Awkward in his crisp new uniform, the trooper tipped his hat to the two women and strode to the river’s edge. Already his shirt lapels wilted in the rain. He peered down at his shiny boots, sighed, and stepped into the muddy water. He scraped muck from the van’s license plate, wiped his hand on a trouser leg and took out his notebook.
The first medic returned with a warming blanket and motioned to Allie. She reluctantly uncurled herself from the child. His cheeks had regained a light pink glow and he cried when she let him go.
I need to protect the baby. She followed the medic to the ambulance where flashing lights reflected from every wet surface. The baby boy is in danger. She blinked hard. But this was not a baby. This child would be fine. Allie squeezed her hands into fists and stepped aside.
“Don’t worry,” the medic told her. “You did great.” Child in his arms, he hopped in the back where his other patient lay on the stretcher. “The boy’s color is good and his body temperature is almost back to normal. Kids are resilient. He’ll be fine.” He pulled one rear door shut and paused. “His grandpa’s doing better too. No sign of injury. His sugars were out of whack but we’ll fix him up. They were both very lucky you two found them when you did. A few more minutes in that cold water and—” He slammed the door and the ambulance pulled away.
Lump in her throat, she stood in the rain until the lights disappeared.
Erin joined her at the truck. “Are they going to be okay?”
Allie grabbed her and held tight. The boy was going to be okay. The medic said so. Why was she absolutely bereft? Why did she feel like, somewhere, a baby boy still needed help?
“Aren’t they okay?” Erin held her at arm’s length.
“It must be the adrenaline.” She pulled away and wiped her eyes. Rain ran down her face to replace the tears.
“Yeah, coming down from that can be hard. Some guys get muscle shakes afterward.”
“Let’s get going.” Allie tucked her hair behind her ears and looked down at her clothing. “We’re going to have to pull over at that last rest station to change before we try to cross the border. We look like swamp rats.”
Erin grinned and opened the door for her. “I gave the trooper a statement. He’ll contact us if he needs any more information.”
Fifteen minutes in the rest stop washroom transformed them and they tied their muddy clothing into a plastic bag. Allie swabbed her running shoes with a paper towel. “All my socks are at the bottom of my suitcase. I guess I’ll just have to deal with soggy feet.”
Erin finger-combed her hair into place and regarded Allie with interest. “You’re amazingly calm in an emergency, Baby.”
“What were you expecting? Did you think I would break down into a simpering puddle and make you do everything?”
“No, I just thought maybe all the stuff in your head might interfere—”
Allie raised an eyebrow.
“—Or something.” Erin attempted a smile but it only reached one side. “Not that you’re—”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Allie wrung water from her ponytail. “When there’s stuff going on that’s immediate, I don’t really have time to think. I just act. Sometimes, it’s like I’m guided, but I don’t sit there and cogitate on every single thing. The times I really have to focus to block things out are when I’m sitting quietly without distraction.”
“Like meditation.”
“Or yoga.” Allie was a self-professed yoga-holic. It was a challenge to focus both her muscles and her mind.
Erin shrugged. “I think I could know you for a hundred years and still have more to learn.” They walked out to the truck and headed north once more.
“Here we are!” Allie patted Erin’s knee and winked when they passed Canadian Customs. “Did you know that Canada nationally legalized same-sex marriage more than a decade ago? Maybe we should get hitched while we’re here.”
Erin’s lips tightened and an uncomfortable spike of energy jolted through Allie’s fingers. She’d touched a nerve. She loved Erin completely, but did Erin feel the same way about her?
CHAPTER 10
“We’re nearly at the house.” Allie prodded the cat back into her carrier and shut the door. Rachel grumbled.
“Are you absolutely sure it’s okay for us to stay at your friend’s house?” Erin turned the truck off Pembina Highway.
Allie gave her a sideways glance. “You’re asking me this now?”
Erin shrugged.
“Of course it’s okay. Don’t be shy. Ciara has been my friend since university. She’s tons of fun and you’ll love her.” Allie poked a finger through the wires in the cage door to stroke the cat’s ear. “You’ll love her too, sweetie,” she assured Rachel. “Ciara likes kitties.”
Erin slowed to squint at the street signs as they passed. “She lives by the river?”
“I thought you might be pleased about that.” Allie smiled. “There’s the turnoff!”
They eased onto a tree-lined street. High fences on their right separated residences from the road. Erin kept her attention on the left, where stately homes backed onto the river. Her head swung around at each private drive to each oversize lot. Allie pointed to a house on the right and Erin’s excitement waned.
In stark contrast to the opulence of the riverfront homes, the older bungalow shrank back from the street as if hiding from its affluent neighbors. An untended yard in front of weather-beaten siding suggested decades of neglect.
Allie skipped to the top of the concrete steps and rang the doorbell.
Erin followed, cat carrier in hand. She avoided the exposed steel mesh jutting out of the third tread, nearly lost her balance and was forced to grab the rusted rail. The carrier banged against the siding and Wrong-Way Rachel yowled her disapproval. Erin yanked her hand back and wiped multicolored paint chips on her thigh. “I need a tetanus shot,” she muttered.
“It will be okay, Honey.” Allie rolled her eyes when Erin jammed her contaminated hand in her pocket. “It’s not that bad.” Heaven forbid she touch something dirty with no immediate access to soap and water. Allie rang the doorbell again.
“You should try her cell.” Erin looked at her watch.
“I would, if she had one.” As long as Allie had known her, Ciara had practically lived off the grid. Right now she was probably on a park bench writing notes longhand, oblivious to the time. She often went months without a working phone.
“I guess we’ve got some time to kill and a cat can only hold her bladder so long.” Erin released Rachel from her carrier and Allie helped her manipulate the struggling furry body into a harness.
Unaccustomed to confinement, the cat lay flat. Her indignation was clear when she beetle-walked to the dried-out flowerbed. Allie shook her head. It would take her a while to calm enough to pee in a strange garden.
“What the heck is wrong with her? Did I hurt her when I bumped the cage?” On the balls of her feet, Erin looked ready to spr
int for the closest veterinarian.
Allie laughed. “No, she’s not hurt. She’s just not used to being in a harness. She feels oppressed.”
Wrong-Way Rachel flopped to her side, alligator-rolled and hopelessly twisted herself in the leash. Allie knelt to free her.
“Should I get her litter box from the truck?” Erin shot a hopeful glance at the neglected flower bed.
“She needs time to get used to the new place. Let’s let her explore for a few minutes.” She finished unwrapping the leash and set the cat down. Like broken springs, Rachel’s legs folded until her belly settled on the ground. “Really? Is this how you’ve decided to use your semi-freedom?”
Allie left the cat to her own devices and lay flat on her back in the middle of the lawn. She pointed to a fluffy cloud that had morphed into a wild animal. “It’s a galloping giraffe.”
Beside her, Erin stretched out and held an imaginary sword. “It looks like a knight saving a beautiful maiden.”
“Now it’s a horse.”
“Dragon.”
“Poodle. In a tutu.”
Erin sat up and frowned down at her. “Now you’re messing with me.” She clasped Allie’s hands and pinned her to the ground.
Laughing, Allie struggled half-heartedly and waited until Erin kissed her. When their lips sizzled with first contact, she flipped Erin onto her back and held her between muscular thighs.
“Fine!” Erin giggled. “It’s a poodle in a tutu!”
Allie leaned down and kissed her back. There was no resistance this time and their energy flowed together until warmth reached her toes. Erin’s touch was like no other. She saw a future unfold. She yearned for years of comfort and warmth together with this woman.
“Excuse me, ladies. Are you going to traumatize my neighbors on your first day here?”
Allie rolled out of Erin’s arms and rose to her feet. Ciara grabbed her in a bear hug and Allie squeezed back with the same intensity, and then held her at arms’ length. Her old friend looked fit and happy; a flash of the mischievous free spirit she knew still shone in her eyes. “You look fantastic!”