Sean backed the rental truck up to the tractor trailer and he, Sean, and his dad transferred anything they had room for that would be useful. They found the usual canned foods, but were thrilled to find a case of quinoa in foil pouches. It seemed rodents didn’t like either the quinoa or the foil, or maybe they just hadn’t discovered it. Another great find was a case of powdered lemonade drink mix that would be good for the sugar already mixed in. It was still edible because the containers were hard plastic and sealed.
Holding up one of the canisters, Sean said, “I can’t wait to have a glass of this. All this work makes me feel like having some now, even though it’s cold as hell out here.”
His dad smiled, swiping an arm across his brow. “Just a little more to do, and we can cross.”
Sean scowled. “Why don’t we wait until morning instead of packing up only to unpack on the other side?”
They avoided driving at night because they didn’t want to get stuck on a blocked road with no access to water or suitable place to camp.
His dad replied, “Because I don’t trust this bridge. It might not be here in the morning.”
Hunter looked down the length of the bridge. A few cracks showed in the pavement that he didn’t recall seeing earlier. Uneasy as one of the cracks ran between his feet, he moved to one side.
Sean held out a hand. “Look. The rain has stopped.”
And it had. Hunter dropped the hood of his jacket. The air felt slightly warmer too.
His dad sighed. “Okay. First thing in the morning.”
16
Early the next morning, Cole awoke with a sense of urgency gnawing in his gut and unsettled, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling of the tent. It was barely discernible in the nearly pitch dark. Only the faint glow from the face of his watch lit the tent.
Then he noticed the steady tattoo of rain on the tent. Shit. The rain was the probable source of his anxiety. The last thing they needed was more rain. The river had already been at flood stage yesterday. He sighed as misgivings over his decision to wait a day caused him to second guess himself. Last night they’d have had to find a place to camp in the dark, but what if they’d missed their chance to cross?
While it was still dark, his watch showed it was almost five a.m. Everything had already been packed except for the tents and bedding. Cole stirred, restless. It would probably be pointless to get up now. What could he do in the dark? But, he wanted to go—now—and had to suppress the urge to bolt up from the bedroll.
One of the horses nickered, and he decided he could take care of the animals, at least, and the sooner they were taken care of, the sooner they could cross. It would be one less thing slowing them down. He took a flashlight to set on the hood of a car. He didn’t need much light, just enough to get the horses back into the trailer, and he had a feeling they’d go willingly in this rain, even though they had a canopy to shelter under within the circle of vehicles that formed a corral, of sorts.
As eager as he was to get going, he was also loathe to leave the warmth of the sleeping bags. He and Elly had zippered theirs together into one large bag and now she curled against his side. He eased away and unzipped his side enough to get out. Elly stirred and tried to snuggle against him, murmuring, “Where are you going?”
“You keep sleeping. No need to get up just yet. I’m going to see to the horses.”
He was glad for the sweatshirt beneath his jacket when he left the tent. The temperature seemed to be only in the low forties, and his breathe billowed into great clouds of vapor.
“Dad? What can I do to help?”
Cole turned as he led Princess to the trailer. “I could use a hand making sure the goats don’t get out when I load the horses.”
“No problem.”
Hunter moved a couple of the goats that they’d put in Princess’ slot overnight. In short order, they had both horses loaded and had fed all the animals a little grain. Cole dumped a little extra in the goats’ pen since they had been cooped up all night and wouldn’t get a chance to graze until later in the day. So far, they had searched and found stores of various types of feed in barns along the way. While much of what they found had been ruined from rodents or bugs, they had found enough to keep the animals happy. The goats gave milk and every day, they had a few chickens that still lay eggs even while traveling.
While Hunter took down the canopy the horses had used as a shelter from the rain, Cole moved to the second canopy they had used while camped as a place to cook and eat. The small pile of wood they’d created over the last few days had dwindled to a few logs and so Cole lit the small camp stove. It would serve them just fine this morning. They had been saving it and the propane to be used for a rainy day and today was, literally, a rainy day.
He poured water from a bucket that had been three-quarters full last night, but now overflowed, into a large pot to boil. Today’s breakfast would be oatmeal with some of the maple syrup that Jake had found the other day.
While he waited for the water to boil, he tightened the load strapped to the top of his SUV and moved on to the rest of the vehicles, doing the same for them. When he got back to the stove, the water was boiling and he dumped in the oatmeal and a few pinches of salt.
He found the maple syrup tucked into a box in the back of the SUV they used to keep most of the kitchen supplies. They had backed it up to the edge of the canopy and with the tailgate down it not only made finding ingredients handy, but was a useful work surface as well.
As he stirred the oatmeal, Hunter returned with Sophie. “Hey, just the people I want to see. Can you guys let everyone know that breakfast is ready? I’d like to get across the bridge in the next hour if not sooner.”
“Sure thing, Dad.” The two split up and within moments, Cole heard the kids waking up as Sophie directed them to the area they’d designated as a latrine. Hunter called out to each tent or knocked on doors of vehicles of those who had chosen to sleep in them.
Cole took a bowl of oatmeal and ate it as he walked towards the bridge. Water lapped at the edges of the road and he knew soon it would be covered. The further he went, the more worried he became. Taking the last bite of oatmeal, he looked down at the raging water mere feet below him. He wore a waterproof poncho over his coat, but water crashed against the bridge supports hard enough to cause him to be drenched down to his skin. He dropped his bowl and spoon and sprinted back to the camp.
“Everyone, let’s pack it up. Now. I have a feeling we only have minutes to cross the bridge. Get loaded up and get your radios on. We’re leaving in five minutes.”
Sean, spoon poised in front of his mouth, stared at Cole. “What do you mean?”
“The river has almost swamped the bridge. We have to hurry.”
His brother scowled and looked as if he was going to say something, but Jenna said something in a low voice to him, and whatever it was, it succeeded in getting Sean to down the last bite of his meal.
In five minutes flat, everyone was in their vehicle, including Cole. He keyed the mic on his radio and called out for everyone to check in. When he’d heard from all of the drivers that they were ready, he pressed the button to speak. “I’m going over first. You all wait here until I give the word it’s safe.”
Immediately, his radio started squawking as Elly, Sean, and even Hunter protested that he shouldn’t go first. Cole shook his head.
“Whoa, guys. Listen, somebody has to and it might as well be me. I’m already first in line. If I have to, I can jump out of the car and walk back. Since it’s just me, I’ll only have myself to worry about. It would be stupid and dangerous for all of us to get stuck out there. There’s no way we’d all be able to turn around.”
“Keep us updated, Cole.” Elly’s voice cracked, and the mic clicked before she spoke again. “And be careful.”
“Always. It’ll just be a few minutes. Hang tight.”
He set the radio down and checked his rearview mirror to make sure nobody followed him before he drove ahead.
>
The path they’d cleared was awash in a few inches of water, but still drivable. His windshield wipers thumped furiously back and forth as he strained to see through the torrential rain and the water crashing over the railings.
He navigated around a wrecked semi-truck they had been unable to move, but instead had cleared the opposite lane. With no other traffic, he could take whatever lane was clear and so he weaved his way over the bridge. In the middle, the river splashing over the railings had lessened and he breathed a sigh of relief. Just a little farther.
“Shit!” The western bank had flooded more and that end of the bridge was under a good eight inches of water. He was able to cross it, but water lapped at the undercarriage of his SUV. A few more inches and the bridge would be swamped. He drove all the way off the bridge, down the exit ramp they’d cleared as well. The rendezvous point was a gas station just to the left of the ramp.
Luckily, where the ramp crossed the riverbank, or what was the edge of the flooding river now, it was still a few feet above the water. The banks must be higher on this side of the river. That explained why the flooding was worse on the lower eastern bank. Unfortunately, that was also the reason for the higher water at this side of the bridge. It had nowhere to go but up.
He keyed the radio. “Okay, we can cross, but the western end of the bridge is flooding fast. Drive quickly, but carefully. Oh, and watch out for the semi-truck about halfway over. It was hard to see in fog and rain. You’ll have to go left of it.”
Everyone checked in when they began moving forward.
Cole drove back up the bridge from the ramp and did a three point turn, parking his vehicle perpendicular to the bridge with his headlights cutting across the lane the others would be in. From this vantage point, he would easily be able to make sure they all made it across and take up the rear of the caravan for the final quarter mile until they were safely on solid ground.
His headlights highlighted a crack in the pavement. Had it always been there? It was impossible to know unless someone had been on the bridge prior to the virus. He didn’t see any weeds growing out of it, which would indicate that it was new.
Whenever it occurred, he just hoped it would hold for a bit longer. Cole dragged his eyes from the defect and found a spot on the opposite wall that was a few inches above the water line. That was approximately how deep the water would have to be before the road was unpassable. He gnawed on the edge of his thumb, worrying a callous as he waited, his eyes fixed on the water creeping up the opposite wall. Soon, it would surpass the mark but headlights came into view and he breathed a little easier.
Elly, Joe, and the kids drove by, Elly’s knuckles white against the dark steering wheel as they passed in front of him. He lifted the radio and said, “Elly, don’t forget to head to the gas station. The road is clear of standing water from what I could see.”
“Got it.” The reply came from Joe, which Cole had expected with Elly driving.
Next came Hunter, Sophie, Buddy, and the trailer with the animals. They hit the crack a little hard, the trailer jolting, but they moved past without any difficulties. Was the crack wider than it had been just a few minutes ago? With water swirling on the pavement, it was difficult to tell.
Piper, with Jake in the passenger seat, were next in the caravan She looked relaxed and even waved as she passed Cole. He grinned and waved back but then held his breath as he watched them get to the end where the water was deepest. The small trailer with the chicken coop looked dangerously close to floating…or sinking. Dammit. They should have left the chickens. A few eggs weren’t worth the risk. What if the trailer pulled their car against the side of the bridge? The thoughts flew through his brain in an instant, but he blew out the breath as they made it to the other side.
Sean and Jenna passed without event, and Cole rolled his shoulders, not realizing how tense he’d been.
Only Steve and Mike were left. Just as they came up to the fissure in the road, a jolt shook the bridge. Cole’s first instinct was that he’d been hit by another car, but that wasn’t possible.
It took him a second to process what he saw in front of him. Steve’s quad-cab pickup lurched nose down in the widening crevice.
Cole picked up the radio as he flung the door open. “Steve! Mike! Get out!” The bridge lurched under Cole’s feet as he raced to the truck. Mike jumped the crevice just as it split even wider. He landed on Cole’s side, but fell hard and lay motionless. Steve remained in the truck and from the sound of the engine, he was attempting to reverse out of the fissure. Cole shouted again. “Leave the truck!”
They could replace everything in it. Cole knelt beside Mike, relieved when the man moaned and rolled onto his back, but his eyes were closed. Cole grabbed him under the arms and dragged him towards his own vehicle. He set him down to open the passenger door when Steve shouted. Cole turned to look and swore. Steve’s truck canted at a precarious angle, the back wheels almost off the ground. Steve leaped off the running board as the bridge shivered hard. Cole crouched, feeling like he was in an earthquake. Something must have hit a support beam. Asphalt broke away from beneath the truck and the vehicle lurched deeper into the hole.
Steve took a few steps back and jumped the now six foot gap. His front foot hit, but only the edge of the gap, and slipped off. Arms flailing, he stopped his fall abruptly, his arms braced on the road as his lower body dangled over the raging river.
Cole dashed to Steve, grabbed his arms, and tried to haul him up and onto the road.
“My leg’s caught on something! It’s stabbing my left leg!”
“Hang on. I have to look!” Cole hated to release the other man’s arms so he grabbed Steve’s coat collar in his right hand, twisting to wrap the fabric around his fist for a good grip. With the bridge rocking, Cole carefully dropped to his knees and left hand, craning his head to look down into the hole.
The sky was growing lighter, but it was still too dark to see anything clearly. Lying flat on his stomach, he reached for whatever Steve was caught up on.
“I’m slipping!”
“I got you!” Cole found a piece of rebar tangled in the fabric of Steve’s jeans along the outer edge of his thigh. He tore at the hole, making it bigger as he struggled to see.
Rain and river water drenched him and he dipped his head against his shoulder in a futile attempt to clear the water from his eyes. Blinking hard, he assessed the situation.
The rebar had impaled Steve’s leg, but only the outer edge. There was no exit, so cringing, Cole followed the rebar with his hand to see if he could reach the end of it—to see how deeply embedded it was in Steve’s thigh. He tuned out the stream of swearing and groans that spewed from Steve. He’d do the same if their places were reversed. The hard, blunt end of the bar entered the muscle, but it didn’t seem to be in too deeply. Cole thought he could disengage it if Steve cooperated. Less than a half inch, by what he could feel.
“Steve, listen to me! I’m going to push your leg back. Work with me, buddy. When I push it back, it’s gonna hurt like hell, but it’ll be okay. You have to bring your leg next to your other one, then I can pull you up.”
“Yeah…okay,” Steve gasped.
“One, two…three!” Cole wedged his fingers between the end of the bar and Steve’s thigh, then twisted his hand so the bar pressed against the back of his hand, and with his palm flat, he pushed Steve’s leg away from the rebar, ignoring the pain as the bar gouged the back of his hand.
Steve grunted, but followed Cole’s direction. His leg swung free of the rebar.
Grabbing Steve’s left arm, Cole inched back, trying to bring the other man up onto the deck of the bridge.
The other side of the hole buckled more and the truck teetered. If it fell, Steve was sure to be taken down with it. Then Steve’s arms started slipping and Cole gripped them tighter, horrified as he felt Steve’s arms sliding out of the jacket. Pushing with his elbows, he lunged to get a better grip, and Steve’s hand shot out, grasping Cole’s forearm. But
, Cole was too close to the hole and his own arms dragged over the edge. He needed something to hook his feet over to gain leverage.
Hands clamped onto his ankles as though he’d willed them there.
“Hang on, Cole.”
Sean. Relief washed over him, giving him extra strength. He tightened his fingers and hollered over his shoulder. “Pull me back!”
A second set of hands gripped the waistband of Cole’s jeans and tugged on his coat.
Before he could process who it was, the truck’s front bumper scraped against Cole’s edge of the hole as the front tires disappeared beneath the bridge.
“Pull!” The command was meant for Sean and whoever had him. The cab of the truck loomed only a few feet over Steve.
Cole contracted his arms, bringing them close to his chest as he strove to drag Steve out of the hole, but at the same time, the truck toppled and the driver’s side mirror crashed into Steve’s back.
One second Cole was holding two hundred pounds of man in his grasp, and the next, the bridge shook from the impact of the truck and he clutched only a balled up winter jacket. At the same time, he was hauled back about five feet as Sean pulled Cole’s ankles. The sudden loss of weight sent Sean stumbling back with a yell as he lost his grip, but he’d already pulled Cole to relative safety. The other set of hands tried to lift him but, stunned at the loss of Steve, Cole could only stare at the spot where Steve’s head had been then down at the empty jacket.
Then with a shout, Cole jumped to his feet, shaking off the restraining hands. He rushed to the edge. “Steve!”
Sean gripped Cole by the shoulders. “He’s gone, Cole.”
“No…I almost had him…” In vain, Cole ran to crevice searching for some sign of Steve. The truck lay on its side along the fissure. It wouldn’t take much to dislodge it and send the vehicle down into the water rushing by only a few feet below. He’d hoped to see Steve still hanging on to something, but the man was gone. Truly gone.
Sympatico Syndrome Trilogy Box Set Page 68