by Paul Greci
And now up close the surface of the pillar looks jagged instead of smooth. I’m going to make it around on the right-hand side, but not without a price.
CHAPTER 103
I THINK MY HAND IS going to be the first part of my body to make contact with the jagged cement pillar, but instead, the side of my knee slams into something under the surface, and the impact sends me spinning away from the pillar. Then I’m yanked back toward the pillar, and the jagged cement rakes across my forehead just above my eyes and below my gray bathing cap.
My forehead stings, like someone has punched a thousand needles into it at once. I’m trying to see through the blood that’s dripping into my eyes.
I dip my face in the river in an attempt to get the blood out of my eyes, and it works. Now I can see the gray of the river and the end of the pillar, but I’m no longer moving.
I’m facing downriver and am pinned between the pillar and the current, which is treating me like any other obstruction, trying to flow through me and over me.
The rope is taut, like it’s trying to pull me upstream. And then I know what’s happened. Because I drifted left just before we got to the pillar, more of the rope went around the left side with Derrick, and now there isn’t enough rope for me to cover the rest of the distance. I remember Sam saying, You have a little leeway with the length of the rope but not much, so it’s important to both start from as close to the midpoint as you can when you go around the pillar, so relatively equal lengths of rope flow on both sides.
I try to scoot farther up the pillar, because right now the water is at chin level, and there are waves that come and go that are higher, that wash over my head. I could drown right here.
Can Derrick see me? Does he know this is happening? Where is he? Just around the edge of the pillar and out of sight? Is he waiting for me?
A big wave washes over me and totally submerges my head, and I hold my breath for what seems like forever, stretching my neck in a futile attempt to gain some height above the river. I think about unbuckling my waist strap and letting the current take me downriver. If I do that, I’ll probably save myself from drowning, but then I won’t be able to set the explosive. Now I’m seeing red and black dots, and my lungs are screaming for air worse than I’ve ever experienced. I reach for my waist strap.
I’ll have to unbuckle before I black out, I think.
Then the water recedes and is back to chin level. I gulp air, and my lungs burn with relief. I’m still pinned to the pillar, but I’ve also still got the explosive.
A splash just downriver refocuses my attention. And there, maybe ten or fifteen feet away, I see a rounded gray shape emerge from the gray river.
Derrick’s head.
He disappears and then surfaces right in front of me. He grabs me by my shoulders, which are still submerged in the water. “We’ve got to unhook you from the rope.”
“I know,” I say. “But if I unhook, we’ll both be sucked downriver without setting the explosive.”
“We’ll have to try to swim to the spot just behind the pillar,” Derrick says. “It might be protected enough to get the job done. I can’t hang on to you much longer. The current is relentless. You’ve got to unhook.”
“Okay,” I say. “Don’t let go of me.”
“After you unhook, we’ll hug the pillar as we’re swept downstream by the current,” Derrick says, “and then when we’re in the calmest spot behind the pillar, we’ll get the job done.”
I reach for my waist strap and am about to unhook the buckle, but then I come up with what I hope is a better idea.
CHAPTER 104
“LET’S DRILL IT RIGHT HERE,” I say. “Get the explosive out of my pack. Hand it to me and then boost me up.”
“The only way I’m still here is because I’m grabbing your shoulders,” Derrick says. “The current will sling me downriver the instant I let go, and I’ll be dangling on the rope like I was before I fought the current to get to you.”
“I don’t want you to let go,” I say. “Just get me above the water enough so I can do the job. Use me as your anchor.”
“I’ll get under you and lift,” Derrick says, “but you’ll have to wrestle the explosive out of your pack yourself.”
Derrick’s head disappears in the water in front of me, and then I feel his hands on my waist. He must be jostling around for leverage because I feel one hand leave my waist and then I’m yanked downward, but almost simultaneously there’s this pressure between my legs and I’m being pushed upward. As soon as my shoulders are above the water, I wrestle the pack off my back, open it, and pull out the explosive by the handles. I lean into the pillar, using my body weight for leverage, position the drill as straight as I can, and press the power switch.
The drill bit churns, biting into the cement, the sound of the motor mixing in with the sounds from the rushing river. More blood from my forehead wound is running into my eyes, and I blink continuously, which allows me to see just enough to know the drill is working.
True to Sam’s word, once the process is started, the drill continues deeper into the piling on its own and stops at some predetermined depth. I press the activate button, and it lights up green. We’ve got twenty minutes until this thing goes off.
“Done!” I shout.
The upward pressure below me disappears, and I’m back to being pummeled by the river with my chin barely above the surface. Derrick emerges upriver from me, and I realize he’s holding on to the rope that’s keeping me pinned to the pillar.
“Unbuckle your waist strap,” Derrick shouts. “You go right, I’ll go left, and we’ll meet up with Shannon and Brooke.”
I grab the plastic buckle with both hands and pinch the two release buttons, and the current immediately takes me downriver. I turn my body to the right and start kicking toward shore. I hope Brooke and Shannon are done setting their explosives and are just waiting for Derrick and me. The current is carrying me downstream, so I turn and try to swim upriver as I approach the shore, knowing that the plan was to meet under the bridge.
I hope Brooke can see me and will try to meet me with the kayaks wherever I end up. There’s no way I’ll hit the shore directly under the bridge, but I can walk upriver if she doesn’t see me.
I don’t want to stick my head too far above the water because I don’t want to be seen by anyone on the bridge, but Brooke knows to be looking for my gray-capped head in this gray river. Maybe she even watched Derrick and me struggling to plant our explosive device.
My legs are working overtime, and I’m making progress toward shore. I’m still a couple hundred feet from land, but through the gray haze of the waves I’m encountering from swimming upstream I spot what I think are our kayaks just below the bridge. And up on the bank above them and just upriver, I see two Russian soldiers.
Instantly, I submerge and tread water, trying to stay in place and stay invisible.
Brooke, I think. Do they have Brooke? Or did she get away? I break the surface again, peering over the waves.
Soldiers? Yes.
Brooke? No.
I gulp air and submerge again.
Just because she isn’t there doesn’t mean she got away. But just because she isn’t there doesn’t mean she was captured. Maybe the soldiers are waiting, hoping to capture someone coming back for the kayaks, and Brooke spotted them first and slipped away.
I break the surface again but this time look toward the pillar where Brooke was supposed to set her explosive, and I see a tiny green light. Since the soldiers are just upstream from the bottom end of the pillar, they may not be able to see the green light, or if they can, they haven’t shown any interest in it.
I submerge again.
Green light. The clock is ticking. How much time has gone by since the countdown began? What would Brooke have done after she set the explosive if she couldn’t get back to the kayaks? If she’d seen the Russian soldiers but they hadn’t seen her, or even if they had seen her, what would she have done?
My lungs are on fire, so I surface again and gulp air and then submerge again.
Swim, I think. She’d swim for safety. Across the river and toward our meeting spot.
Somewhere, Brooke must be alone in this big river, just like me.
I surface one more time, wishing I could know where Brooke went and when, or if, she’s been captured. But since the explosive is set and the Russians aren’t paying attention to it, I doubt they’ve captured Brooke, and I doubt they know about the explosive.
Enough thinking, I tell myself. Do something!
I submerge and then surface again, but now the soldiers are on the bank, pointing in my direction. One of them raises his gun, and I dive and start kicking my way across the river and downstream. I hear the muffled report of gunfire, but I’m a small target and invisible as long as I’m underwater.
The farther I get from the soldiers, the more my thoughts turn back to Brooke. I hope with all my heart that she is okay. I hope that she gets far enough away from the bridge before it blows. And I hope that I find her, or she finds me, and that we both find Derrick and Shannon.
CHAPTER 105
I POP UP FOR AIR and can see the Delta River entering the Tanana on the left and the bluff where Albert is supposed to be on the right.
Stay in the middle of the river for now, I think, in case there are soldiers on both sides.
I don’t know how long it’s been since Derrick and I set the explosive, but twenty minutes is all we supposedly have to get away, and I already feel like I’ve been in this river swimming away from the Russian soldiers forever.
I keep my head above the surface and continue kicking.
Around the first bend on the far side of the mouth of the Delta River, I remember. On the left bank, in the first patch of spruce trees big enough to hide in, by the mouth of a small creek that enters the river—that’s where we’re supposed to meet up.
It all sounded so neat and tidy. Brooke and I paddling our kayaks from one spot and Derrick and Shannon from another.
I hope those three are already there.
Those two soldiers under the bridge will probably die. Did they even want to be part of an Alaskan invasion or were they forced to by their government? People sign up for service to protect their country, but then they get sent on missions that have nothing to do with protecting their country, or even doing any good in the world. Do they even know they’re sitting on a potential ground zero? Does anyone know except the United States government and us?
The swift water entering from the Delta River wants to push me back across the Tanana, so I double down on my kicking in an attempt to get out of the crosscurrent as quickly as I can.
I’m pretty sure my forehead is still bleeding, but I’ve pulled my gray bathing cap down as far as it will go to put some pressure on the wound.
I’m about to submerge and swim underwater when I catch a glimpse of something downriver.
An arm. No. Two arms. Swimming. Two gray arms swimming a couple hundred yards in front of me and a little closer to the right-hand side of the river. And a round gray head.
Brooke.
That has to be Brooke.
My heart does a little leap.
I want to scream and shout but know that would just bring danger to Brooke and me. She’s following the plan, too. If Derrick and Shannon managed to keep their kayaks, they’re probably already at the spruce grove because paddling has to be way faster than swimming.
I double down on my kicking because I want to catch up to Brooke. I want to swim with her to the meeting spot. I want to know how she got away without being seen while also managing to set the explosive.
The crosscurrent must be growing weaker because now I’ve got good downstream movement without being pushed sideways. I can see the bend coming up. There’s no way I’m going to catch Brooke before she rounds the bend, but at least I know she survived.
Then my ears are assaulted by a loud boom-boom-ba-boom.
I turn and face upriver and watch in sick fascination as the three pillars crumble and huge sections of roadway and guard railing fall into the river. The jagged ends of the highway hang on both sides of the river with no bridge spanning them anymore.
Our part of the plan has worked. But has Sam’s? Because if his hasn’t, we’re all going to get fried.
CHAPTER 106
“WE HAD TO SWIM, TOO,” Shannon says. She recounts how she and Derrick had to jump from their kayaks when someone on the bridge started shooting at them.
“I’m pretty sure the kayaks sank,” Derrick adds. “I mean, it was pretty heavy fire, and they were aiming at the kayaks. We dove and swam downriver.”
“I don’t even know if I heard anything,” I say. “But I was on the opposite side of the river, and I was in the water—mostly underwater.”
“I heard some shots,” Brooke says, “but they sounded far away, and I guess they were.”
We’re sitting in the forest just back from the river in a patch of spruce trees, pretty sure that this is the spot Sam instructed us to stop at. Even if it’s not, we had to get out of the water so we wouldn’t get pummeled by debris from the bridge.
For the moment we all feel safe because the Russians would have to at least cross the Delta River and then round the first bend in the Tanana to come anywhere near us, and right now they’re dealing with a blown bridge. Hopefully three blown bridges.
Then I say what I’m sure we’re all thinking. “I wonder if Sam made it.”
“We’ll have to take turns keeping watch for mushroom clouds,” Derrick says. He grins, but I can tell it’s more nerves than actually joking around.
Our lives might be over in an hour or less if the United States launches a nuclear attack on Fort Greely. Standing in some isolated patch of spruce forest, exhausted beyond belief, and now we might die without any warning.
I say, “I wish there were some way Sam could contact us so we’d know.”
“We can only see what happens,” Shannon says, “as it happens.”
“I want to know if these are my last minutes alive,” I say.
“What would you do,” Brooke asks, “if you knew you were going to die today?”
I look at Derrick and Shannon, and then I turn to Brooke and say softly, “I’d kiss you if you’d let me.”
Brooke smiles. “Even with that jagged, bloody wreck stretching across your forehead, I’d let you.” Her eyes bore into mine. “I’d kiss you back.”
I cover the distance between us and we stand so we’re face-to-face, our noses inches apart. She looks very alien with the gray dry suit and swim cap, but the serious smile on her face is all hers. My whole body is trembling. I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been running a race. A race is something you can plan for, but a kiss isn’t—especially a kiss that could be your last.
With my hands, I softly cradle her cheeks. She tilts her head one way, and I tilt mine the opposite, and our lips meet. It’s a silty kiss, but still, it’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.
After several seconds we break apart, and there, off to the side, I see Derrick and Shannon, and they’re kissing, too.
Brooke tugs on my arm and I turn so I’m facing her again.
“Just be here,” she says, and then starts kissing me again.
CHAPTER 107
“KISSES WILL ONLY SUSTAIN US for a limited amount of time,” Shannon says, smiling.
The four of us are sitting under the spruce trees with our flippers off. My forehead has gone from throbbing to a steady ache. Rinsing it with river water only goes so far because of all the silt in it. I know there should be a creek just downriver from where we are, but I’m too exhausted to go searching for it right now.
“Maybe we’re in the clear,” I say. “I mean, we’re still alive.”
“Sam said to wait for three days,” Derrick says. “He’s supposed to come and get us or send someone.”
“He probably assumed we’d have some food with us.” Brooke says. “I was starving before
I had to swim across the river.”
“We can survive without food for a while,” I respond. “It’s not fun, but it beats getting picked up by Russian soldiers who may still be in control of the area.”
“Even if they were given orders to retreat,” Shannon adds, “if their friends were killed when the bridge exploded and they discover we destroyed it…”
“Life still sucks.” Derrick raises his eyebrows. “Even in victory, we’ve got to watch our backs.”
Through the trees I can see the river—relentless—as it keeps on flowing. Maybe there’s tons of blown bridge debris just under the surface, passing us by right now.
I say, “If Sam doesn’t show after three days, we’re on our own.” I turn to Brooke. “If that happens, then your idea about heading downriver toward Fairbanks may be our best bet.”
“That was with kayaks,” Brooke adds.
“You know,” Derrick says, “if we do have to strike out on our own, going by river may be our best option.”
“True,” Shannon responds. “With footwear like this”—she holds up a flipper—“we can’t exactly walk anywhere.”
“Swim to Fairbanks?” I ask.
“We’d have the current on our side,” Derrick says.
“Maybe we wouldn’t have to go all the way,” I add. “If people have been freed, there’s a chance we’d run into someone in a boat.”
Brooke says, “Can’t we just swim across the river and work our way upstream until we get to where the bridge used to be? There must be people there.”
“We can’t unknowingly walk into what was, and still may be, Russian-held territory,” Shannon responds. “We’re unarmed. It’s too risky.”
“Even if Josh hadn’t lost the gun when we set the explosive,” Derrick says, “that pistol was no match for what the Russians were shooting at us with.”
“We haven’t been fried, and it’s been hours since all of our last kisses,” Brooke fires back. “We must’ve won.”