by Dave Conifer
Sarah nodded her approval before climbing into the back seat. After telling her daughters what the plan was, she joined Nick where he was leaning on the steel side rail of the bridge, watching the Delaware River as it passed beneath. “I’m glad you’re back. We were worried about you,” she said.
"No need,” he said. “I’m good.”
"I was just thinking about my husband. If he heard about what happened over here, he's probably worried sick about us."
“What’s his name?” Nick asked.
“Eli,” she said. “He had to go to Boston for his job.” She looked apprehensively southward, down the river. “We dropped him at the airport at six this morning and then headed over to the park. Now I have to wonder if his plane got off the ground. Or maybe I should hope it didn’t.”
“You shouldn’t worry,” Nick advised. “Whatever happened to those planes didn’t start happening until a few minutes ago. I’m sure he’s safe on the ground in Boston by now.”
“I wish he’d call,” she said, before catching herself. “But I know he can’t.”
“He’s fine,” Nick assured her. “But I know how you must feel.”
“How about you? You married, Nick?”
“Divorced,” Nick told her. “I got a little girl of my own. They live in Virginia now. My wife’s already married again.”
“Oh,” Sarah said. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“No big deal,” Nick said. “It was my own fault. I deserved it.”
“Nobody deserves that.”
“Trust me,” Nick said. “I did.”
Sarah held up her hands in a defensive position. “Now it’s definitely none of my business.”
"How old are your girls?" Nick asked.
"Jenny's thirteen," Sarah said, "and Ashley's ten."
"That's about what I thought. A little older than my Jules.”
"Anyway, I wanted to tell you I appreciate you looking out for us. You could have blown us off. We’ll try not to be a burden."
“You’ve got it all wrong,” Nick said. “You’re the ones with the bikes. If not for us, you might already be gone.”
“I don’t think so,” Sarah said. “I don’t think we’d have gone anywhere. But I’m glad we are, as long as we’re not alone.”
"We’re doing the smart thing,” Nick said. “Simple math says this is not going to be a good place to be before much longer. Not for any of us. There are two or three hundred cars stranded on this bridge. It's nearly noon now. Even in a perfect scenario, where the phones all magically came back on line, getting everybody's cars fixed or towed will be a madhouse. It would take hours. Days, maybe. Even if the world started working again, we’d be here after dark. Probably all night. We don't want that."
"That scares me," Sarah said. "I have the girls to think about. I really, really don't want to stay here after it gets dark."
“Of course, for all we know, if the phones come back to life, the cars might, too,” Nick admitted. “I can’t explain any of this.”
“Nobody else on this bridge can, either,” Sarah said.
"I've never done a bike ride like this,” Nick said, “but I don't think we're more than a couple hours from my place. We're all better off there."
Dewey appeared suddenly from the side of the vehicle. “The bikes are down. So what are we doing?” he asked. “Is it time to saddle up yet?”
"Let’s go,” Nick said. He stood up. “Before somebody sees these bikes and gets any ideas. Know what I mean?”
“This isn’t Lord of the Flies,” Dewey said. “It’s not exactly anarchy.”
“Not yet, anyway.” Nick shrugged. “Hey, maybe I’m overreacting. If I am, sorry. I don’t mean to get anybody riled up. But the longer this goes on, the more desperate everybody’s going to get. They'll be hungry, and sunburned, and confused, and all they'll be thinking about is getting off this bridge.”
“I think you’re right,” Sarah said. “I think we should all leave together.”
“There's, like, only three bikes. It's going to be tight,” Dewey said before walking behind the SUV again, as if he wanted to re-count them to be sure.
“Do you feel good enough to ride?” Sarah asked Nick. “That’s a pretty bad bruise on your head. It’s still bleeding.”
“I’m fine,” Nick said. “But I don't think I should be riding for two yet. Are you okay with one of your girls riding with Dewey? I have a daughter, so I know how you might feel about it. You don’t know us. Heck, I don’t even know Dewey, either.”
“You’re decent guys,” she said. “I can tell. All I know is I don’t want to stay here. I’ll take Ashley. If one of you could take Jenny, I’ll talk to her about it.”
Nick thought she’d want it the other way around, but he nodded in agreement. “They’ll have to ride on the crossbar,” he said. “They can sit backwards, and put their arms around the driver to hold on. Or maybe they can face forward, if they can find something to grab onto. It’s not perfect, but it’ll work. We'll just keep our speed down.”
“When I was a kid we stood on the pegs of the back wheel and held on from behind,” Dewey said, now that he was back.
“I doubt those bikes have pegs, Dewey,” Nick said. “And you’re still a kid yourself, at least to me and Sarah. Besides, the girls wouldn’t last long standing on the axle rods, or whatever they’re called. They’re only about an inch long. I don't think it's a good idea.”
"Whatever," Dewey said.
"I was just telling Sarah that I don't feel strong enough to take a passenger," Nick said. “One of the girls will have to ride with you, Dewey.”
“That’s cool,” Dewey said. “What are we waiting for?”
Sarah waved her girls over from the car. Jenny came first. She had her mother's red hair, which was tied similarly in a pony tail. Wearing a long-sleeved, clingy Medford Girl Scout Council t-shirt and a pair of shorts, she looked like most thirteen year-old girls, at least the ones Nick could remember. Ashley shot out next. With her dirty blond hair cut short, and her grubby shirt, she looked less feminine than either her sister or her mother, but Nick knew from watching his own daughter that this was something that could, and probably would, change quickly in the next few years.
"We're going to have to double up," Sarah told them. "We don't want to stay here. We'll come back after everything gets fixed."
"Can I ride with you, Mom?" Ashley asked.
"Yes," Sarah said. "And Jenny's riding with--" She broke off in mid-sentence.
"Dewey," Nick said. "I mean, Mr. Bishop, I guess."
"Please, none of that," Dewey said. "That’s like you're talking to my dad. I only answer to 'Dewey.'"
"You girls are going to have to sit on the bar and hold on," Sarah said.
"Where are we going?" Ashley asked.
"We're just going to get off the bridge for a while," Sarah said. "Until all this gets straightened out."
"Kind of weird," Jenny said. "Everybody's car broke down at the same time?"
"We'll talk about that later," Nick said.
"What happened to your head?" Jenny asked. "You're gushing blood."
Nick wiped at the blood for the umpteenth time. "It's not that bad," he said.
"What happened?" Jenny asked again.
"Dewey -- I mean, Mr. Bishop, crashed into the back of my truck," Nick explained. "I hit my head."
"Who's riding what?" Dewey asked. Nick wasn't sure. Two of the bikes were smaller mountain bikes, and the other was similar to the old ten-speed he’d ridden as a kid. Unsure of what the best arrangement would be, Nick stayed quiet. He hadn't ridden a bike in years, and was busy hoping it was true that you never forgot how.
"Well, mine might not be so good for taking a passenger," Sarah pointed out. "If they're riding on the bar, at least. There really isn't one. Whoever's riding solo should probably have that one."
"That would be you, Nick," Dewey said. "These two look like they're the same size. Guess I'll take this one, if that’s oka
y with you, Sarah."
"Girls, this isn't going to be any fun," Sarah said. "Just get on and make the best of it. But go back in the car and get your helmets first."
Five minutes later the cars were locked up and they all climbed aboard the bikes. Both girls chose to face forward, balancing on the bar and holding onto the handle bars. "Go gently," Nick reminded Dewey just before shoving off. What a strange morning it had been. Two hours ago he'd been driving absent-mindedly across the river, looking forward to a cookout. Now he was giving orders to some wooly-faced kid he'd never met before. You sure can't make this stuff up, he told himself.
With Jenny perched awkwardly in front of him, Dewey took the lead. Sarah and Ashley weren’t too far behind him. Nick wasn’t surprised. It was her maternal instincts kicking in. She needed to keep an eye on her eldest as well as Ashley, who was right under her nose. Nick let a dozen yards open up between himself and Sarah before reaching cruising speed. He wasn’t sure why. It just seemed right.
It appeared immediately that Dewey was having a difficult time. It wasn’t easy riding with eighty pounds of wriggling human being balanced on the crossbar, but it wasn’t just that. Dewey looked like he’d never ridden a bike before. And for all Nick knew, he hadn’t, or at least it had been a while. Before long, Sarah gave up and cruised past him to take the lead.
It could have been worse. Since they were on a steady decline toward the shore, there wasn’t much need to pedal. Even so, Nick wished he hadn’t forced Dewey to be the one who took a passenger, and decided that as soon as he could, he’d offer to switch. He was feeling better already, and the ride was going to get tougher once they were on flat land.
They moved so quietly that most of the stranded motorists took no notice of them until they were past. The most common reaction was a blank, confused expression. Apparently, even after all that had happened, three bicycle riders weaving through a gauntlet of stalled cars was the most jarring sight on the bridge.
Nick was glad they were largely unnoticed as they traveled. It wouldn’t be long before it occurred to more of them that they weren’t going to be driving off that bridge, at least anytime soon. The bikes were valuable possessions under the circumstances, but not many knew it yet. That would come later. Their timing was good.
“Hey, I know you!” It was Jumper Cables, stepping out into the roadway from behind a battered Ford Focus. “Hey! Honey! I’m talking to you!” He was shouting at Sarah, but she was already gone. “Where ya’ going?” By then she was out of his reach, though probably not out of earshot. Dewey and Jenny weren’t, however. When Cables saw them, he angled quickly across two lanes to intercept them. Having heard the commotion, Empty Hands emerged from behind the same car and followed his friend. This time his hands weren’t empty, but held a bottle of beer. He again looked back at Dewey, who wasn’t moving nearly as fast as he should have been. He could have escaped, but at that speed he wasn’t going to.
“Slow your roll there, Poindexter!” Cables yelled as he grabbed at the left grip of the handlebar hard enough to spill Dewey and Jenny onto the asphalt. Nick jammed on his pedals as hard as he could to get there faster, ignoring the surge of pain that shot up his aching neck. Jenny scrambled to her feet, while Dewey stared up at Cables with a shocked look on his face.
“What’s the hurry?” Cables demanded. “Hey, how ‘bout you let me borrow your bike? I want to catch up with my girlfriend. What do you say?”
“Leave them alone!” Nick warned as squeezed the handbrakes and lurched to a stop a few feet from Cables.
Cables sneered. “What if I don’t?”
“I’d button my lip if I was you.” It was Empty, now on the scene and already taking up for his friend.
Nick didn’t think these drunken blowhards would amount to much in a fight. It wasn’t just himself he had to worry about, though. He had Dewey and Jenny to think of. Not only that, Sarah was fifty yards up-road but already turning to come back. And of course, there were the bikes. That complicated matters even more. He couldn't risk losing them.
There was no way to avoid this. He walked his own bike forward until the front wheel was between Dewey and Cables, effectively blocking the attack. “Jenny, get on the bike and go to your mom. Tell her to keep her distance.” She stared at him. “Now!”
Dewey rolled from beneath the frame of the bike just as Jenny bent over to take it. She was already swinging a leg over the seat when Cables reached at her. He had a handful of Jenny’s shirt in his hand when Nick lunged into him with a two-handed shove, sending him sprawling onto the oily road. From the looks of it, Cables might not have gone down at all if not for the beer he'd drunk, but as it was, he landed hard on his shoulder. Jenny regained her balance and rode away.
Nick looked toward Empty just in time to see the clear Miller Beer bottle flying at his head. He flinched away, but the heel of the bottle caught the side of his head without breaking. Stunned by the blow, Nick felt himself list sideways as he struggled to keep the bike upright. He could smell the beer dripping onto his shoulder. It was Dewey, now back on his feet, who prevented Nick from toppling over with a firm grip around his waist.
“You all right?” Dewey asked. Without waiting for an answer, he turned to face the onrushing Empty. While Nick struggled with his balance, he watched Dewey pummel Empty with a barrage of the most unorthodox punches he’d ever seen. It wasn’t pretty, but by God, Dewey put a beating on him. Empty was so busy warding Dewey off that he didn’t throw a single punch. He didn’t go down, but he backed away from the spastic storm of blows raining down on him. Once he was out of range he bent over, with his hands on his knees. Nick could see now that at least some of Dewey's wild thrusts had done some damage.
“Easy there, girlie,” Cables snarled at Dewey as he pulled himself to his feet. Nick noticed a dark, wet smudge on Cable’s temple. Apparently it hadn’t been just his shoulder that hit the pavement. “You’re gonna’ get that back double,” he vowed. But he stayed where he was. So did Empty. Nick knew the fight was over.
“Dewey, take the bike and go,” Nick said. After Dewey had it by the seat, Nick fingered the new gash on his head. “You boys done?” he asked Cables. When neither responded, nor even moved from where they were, Nick waved Dewey up the road toward Sarah. “Go ahead. I’m right behind you,” he assured him. “When you get to the girls, keep everybody moving until you’re at the end of the bridge, and then wait for me.”
He looked back to see Cables and Empty glaring from a safe distance. After Dewey had ridden away, Nick followed on foot, walking backwards until he knew they weren’t coming for him. He was glad he'd told Dewey to take the others all the way to the foot of the bridge. By the time he made it there, maybe he'd be ready to ride again.
Four
The wound from the bottle hurt worse than the one from the car crash, but Nick thought that might be only because it was newer. He’d always hated Miller Beer. Now that he could smell it, mixed with his own blood and sopped into his sweatshirt, he knew he always would. He turned around and walked backwards again after he’d gone a quarter of a mile down the bridge, but Cables and Empty were gone. Probably back to the cooler in the trunk, he decided. It was just as well.
Once he felt safe, he walked to the side rail to catch his breath. About a hundred feet back towards the crown of the bridge, along the tracks on the side just below roadway level, was a stalled PATCO train that normally shuttled passengers between New Jersey and Center City. It was just another sign that Dewey was right, and something they didn’t understand yet was going on. A portal on top of one of the cars had been forced open, through which dazed and sweaty passengers were laboring to climb out of. Many who’d already emerged were standing numbly along the track, while several were attempting to scale the steel up to the roadway. Nick wanted to warn them that it was no better up there and they may as well stay in the shade, but he couldn’t find the strength. Instead, he turned towards the shoreline and trudged off to meet the others.
~~~
“Are you okay?” Sarah and Dewey said at the same time when he caught up to them at the end of the bridge. “That doesn’t look good,” Sarah said, eying the new gash. Jenny looked upset, while little Ashley seemed to have tuned out completely.
“It’s fine,” Nick said. “A little ice and I’ll be as good as new.” He was lying, but only a little. He’d already changed his mind about volunteering to take a passenger. Definitely not a good idea after what had just gone down. He turned to Dewey. “Nice work back there. You pulled my chestnuts out, know what I mean?”
“I—I didn’t know what to do,” Dewey said. “So, like, I just went after him.”
“You sure did,” Nick said. “I just want to know one thing. Who’s your karate instructor? Curly, Larry, or Moe?”
“Wait, what?” Dewey asked. Sarah smiled.
“Just kidding,” Nick said. “I was lucky you were there. So, are you all ready to get off this bridge?”
“I am,” Sarah answered. “I’ll be glad to get onto solid ground.”
"I’ve never been in a scene like that before," Dewey said. He held out one of his hands. "See? I can't stop shaking. What a rush. I feel so, so, like, spent.”
“It’s not just your hands,” Sarah said. “Your whole body’s twitching. I think you just overdosed on adrenalin.”
“Just breathe,” Nick said. “You did good. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll get back on the road. We’re just about on dry land already. I’m anxious to see what it’s like up ahead.”
“It’ll be more of the same,” Dewey said. “This side of the river looks just as dead as the other side. Nothing’s moving.”
“That's how it looks to me, too,” Sarah said. “Not good.”
“Let’s just keep moving,” Nick said. “If nothing else, we’ll get to my house sooner. I don’t think we want to be wandering around in the dark. There might be more troublemakers out by then.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if our two favorite troublemakers came back for more,” Dewey said. “The sooner we take off, the better.”