The Innocent

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The Innocent Page 5

by Michelle K. Pickett


  There was nothing I could do but watch. Even if I could have gotten Ben and me out of the car, we’d have gotten caught by the water before we got across the bridge. And my demi-angel telekinesis power only worked on solid matter. I couldn’t move water. So I stared in horror as the water and debris rushed toward us. I continued driving, trying to outrun it, but it hit the bridge and moved it at least five feet to the left of the exit ramp.

  I screamed. Ben started to cry. Water rushed under the car, lifting and moving it to the side. The side of the car hit the guardrail.

  “Ben! Unbuckle and climb up front with me.”

  “‘Kay.”

  I heard rustling and then saw his little body climb over and fall with a thud next to me on the front seat. His ice cream fell on the floorboard, splattering over the seat and my leg. I grabbed Ben and held him close to me.

  “What’s happening, Milayna?” Ben cried.

  “Just the rain. It’s okay.”

  The car hit the guardrail harder as the river rose. It rocked back and forth, clanging against the metal and cement railing, and water seeped around my feet.

  Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh shit. What do I do? Call for help. Yeah.

  I reached into my jean’s pocket. My phone wasn’t there. I reached in the other pocket—empty. Frantic, I looked through the pockets in my jacket and purse. “Ben? Do you have my phone? Were you playing the games on it again?”

  He looked up at me, tears in his eyes. “No.”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to remember where I’d last had my cell. I remembered lying it down on the counter, but couldn’t remember picking it up again. Realizing that’s where it most likely was, I bit my lip to keep from crying.

  I looked out at the raging water, full of branches and litter, and knew neither Ben nor I could swim to shore. I couldn’t swim, help Ben, and use my telekinesis to move debris away at the same time. The best we could do was signal for help.

  “Okay, Ben, I need you to sit up for a minute. I have to do something.”

  “But I’m scared!”

  “I know. So am I, but you need to be strong just for a minute,” I said.

  Please, please don’t throw a tantrum now. I don’t think I can handle it.

  He sat up and scooted away. I ripped off my coat, leaving just one arm in an armhole. I rolled down the driver’s side window, the side next to the guardrail. I hoped the water was diverted around the car enough that I could stick my head outside.

  Water came through, but not as much as if I’d opened the passenger’s side where the water was hitting the car dead on. I stuck my head and arm out the window, waving my coat while I screamed for help. I wasn’t sure if anyone could hear me over the rushing water, but I screamed as loudly as I could, waving my coat to get someone’s attention.

  I saw a man on shore point in my direction before saying something to the woman standing next to him. I continued waving my coat in the air as I watched him pull out a cell phone and dial. He looked at me and nodded.

  Help was coming.

  It seemed like a year. We sat in the car and tried to wait patiently for whoever was going to help us. We sang songs. We played twenty questions and I-Spy, whatever I could do to keep Ben’s mind on something other than where we were.

  Inch by inch, the car was filling with cold, dirty water. It was as high as the seat. Ben and I lifted our feet from the floor and sat with them curled under us. But as it came over the top, there was nowhere to go to get away from the frigid water.

  “I’m cold.” Ben’s teeth chattered and his little body shivered. I pulled him closer to me.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “And wet.”

  “That, too.”

  “I wish Chay was here,” Ben said.

  My heart skipped a beat. I felt it. It was like a shockwave ran through my chest. It hurt, and it took me a few seconds to answer Ben. “Why?”

  “Because he’d know what to do.”

  Oh, and I don’t?

  “I wish he were here, too,” I whispered.

  Finally, I heard the whoosh-whoosh of helicopter blades. I stuck my head out the window and waved my arms to get the attention of the helicopter above.

  A man in an orange jumpsuit lowered himself on a cable down to the car.

  “How many?” he yelled.

  “Two. My brother and me,” I answered.

  “Give me the boy.”

  “Come on, Ben. You’re going up in the helicopter.”

  “No! What about you?”

  “My turn is next. First you go.” I smiled and nodded to make it seem like a big adventure, like it was fun. He wasn’t falling for it. He started crying.

  Oh, not now.

  I hefted him over my lap. Lifting him up, I handed him to the man dangling from the rope outside. He grabbed Ben and strapped him in. Ben cried harder and reached out to me.

  “Ben! Stop it!” I shouted over the noise of the water. “You have to go. I’ll come right after you.”

  “When we lower the line back, I want you to slip the harness over your head and under your arms. Like this.” The man showed me how to hold on to the harness so I didn’t fall through the hole. “You’ll need to be sitting on the window so we can pull you out. Got it?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded

  He raised his hand and gave a thumbs-up to the people in the helicopter and the cable started rising, taking Benjamin with it. I felt a second of dread. I was all alone. In a car filling with water—more and more by the second. It was well over the seat. I sat on my knees and the water covered my legs.

  I watched the cable rise to the helicopter as Ben was pulled to safety. I let out the breath I was holding. He was safe.

  The line started to lower for me, and I panicked. Why didn’t the man come back and take me up like he did with Ben? I didn’t want to go by myself. What if I couldn’t hang on?

  Stop it! Stop being a baby, Milayna.

  I turned and stuck my head and body outside. As I sat on the window, my legs were still in the car. The black harness dangled above me. I reached out. As my arm curved around the harness, debris hit the bridge. I lost my grip on the harness and flew backward. My head hit the metal grating of the guardrail before I tumbled over the side and smacked my head a second time on the cement support. Pain exploded in my skull and lights flashed behind my eyelids. I sucked in a breath to cry out and inhaled water. The debris in the dirty water scraped my throat and nose as it filled them.

  It burned. My head pounded. I flailed my arms and kicked my feet to get to the surface for air. My lungs felt as if they were going to explode if I didn’t inhale. They told me to, begged me to take a breath. My brain told me to wait. I’d only breathe in more water. Wait. Swim to the surface. My only thoughts were—Swim. Breathe. Swim.

  My face broke through the surface and I inhaled deeply, coughing and gagging on the water I’d swallowed. I tried to take another breath, but I was coughing too hard. The waves of the roaring river pushed me under again. I fought my way to the surface, scraping my face on a large log. I dug my nails into it. Holding it with two hands, I pulled myself partway out of the water. Water splashed over me, into my mouth, up my nose. I gagged on the water I’d inhaled and the water filling my mouth with each wave that crashed over the log.

  Ducking my face to the side to shield it from the water, I realized the fallen log I was hanging from was attached to the riverbank. I moved slowly along the log to the bank.

  I was halfway to the riverbank when my arms gave out and I slipped. I lost my grip on the log when the water jerked one arm away and under the log. I tightened my hold with my other arm. My muscles shook and felt like someone had lit a match to them. They burned from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. But I kept my grip on that damn log.

  I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. First, I tried to reach up and circle my arms around the log. It was too big—I couldn’t get a good hold and both hands started to lose their grip. I let my arm fall from the back and bent
it at the elbow. Then I pulled against the force of the water with as much strength as I had left, screaming with the effort. I pulled my arm back enough to move it in front of my body and shield it from the water so I could reach out and throw it over the log. Digging my fingers into the grooves in the bark, I lay my forehead against the wet wood, gathering the strength to make it to shore.

  With each slow inch I moved toward shore, I dug my fingers into the bark of the tree, the rough ridges rubbing the tips of my fingers raw. When my feet hit the rocky bottom of the riverbed, I sobbed with relief, but I didn’t dare let go of the log until I was all the way to shore. I fell on my knees, coughing and retching to rid my lungs of the dirty river water.

  I’d just begun to stand and make my way to the road when the bank gave way. I tried to push away from the crumbling mud and rocky shoreline before I was swept back into the river a second time, but my feet couldn’t find any leverage. I reached for something—anything—to grab onto as I slipped in the mud toward the rushing water. There was nothing.

  I hit the water hard. It ran over me. It didn’t let up, just rolled over me in a constant barrage. I couldn’t catch my breath. My lungs burned. I flailed my arms, searching for something to grab onto. I found the log—at least, I thought it was the same one. I grabbed it and fought my way to the surface. My arms burned from battling the rushing water. It was brutal in its force. I kept my back to it and it pinned me painfully against the log, making it hard to take a breath. I could only breathe in short gasps.

  “Grab the line,” I heard someone scream.

  I looked around. The helicopter was lowering the line, but it was yards in front of me.

  “Let go and grab the line.”

  I shook my head. No, bring it to me.

  Then I saw the electrical lines. The helicopter couldn’t drop the cable because of them. I had to let go of the log, let the water carry me to the line, and pray I could grab the harness, and had enough strength to hold on, before the water pulled me under.

  I took a breath and let go. The water lifted me and hurled me forward. Raising my arm, I wrapped it around the harness. I held on as tightly as I could, but the water pulled and pushed. It was like it was alive and had one purpose—to kill me.

  I tried to lift my body out of the water high enough to get my other arm through the harness, but didn’t have the strength.

  I looked up and saw the man in the orange jumpsuit lowering himself toward me.

  Thank you. Thank you.

  He yelled something, pointing. I couldn’t hear over the noise of the water and the blood pumping behind my ears. But I followed the direction he was pointing. It was too late for me to get out of the way even if I’d had the strength.

  The log I’d been holding on to had given way and was coming straight toward me. I looked up at the man and back at the log.

  I tried to tap into my telekinesis, but I needed my hands free and they were busy trying to keep me above water.

  I felt it hit me. I felt the pressure of the blow squeeze the air out of my chest. I felt the stab of pain in my head where one of the branches hammered into me. I felt it roll over me and push me underwater. I felt the water fill my mouth and nose.

  And then I felt nothing at all.

  Beeping. I could hear beeping. It was annoying. And bright lights were shining in my eyes, even though my eyes were closed.

  “Milayna? Milayna, can you hear me?”

  Of course I can, you nitwit. You’re yelling in my ear.

  “Milayna, squeeze my hand if you can hear me. No response,” the man said.

  No response? Wait. I squeezed his hand… didn’t I?

  “Vitals are good. She’s breathing on her own. Heart rate is good. She’s fine.”

  “What do you mean—she’s fine? She hasn’t woken up yet!”

  Dad?

  “This happens sometimes in these cases. Give it time. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

  “How long?”

  Mom?

  “A day, maybe two. If it’s longer than that, we’ll start running some tests.”

  What’s happened to me? Tests for what?

  I felt myself drift off into a blissful cocoon of nothingness. Where everything was as it should be. Chay was still in love with me, and I was just an ordinary teenager who didn’t have demons trying to kill her. I liked it there better than my real life. I thought about staying.

  ***

  When I opened my eyes, it was dark in the room. I could hear someone snoring close by, another shifting positions.

  I squinted in the darkness and saw my parents sitting in two chairs by a window. Dad slouched in his chair. He looked uncomfortable but judging by his snores, he must’ve been comfortable enough to sleep okay. Mom was lying on her side in her chair… well, trying to. She kept turning and adjusting to get comfortable.

  I didn’t want to wake them, so I tried to be quiet when I slid out of bed to go to the bathroom. Sirens blared, and I tripped over the wires hooked to me everywhere. My parents jumped up.

  So much for quiet.

  “Milayna,” they said in unison.

  “Hi,” I said with a smile. I sat with my bare butt cheeks on the cold, tiled floor. Why did they have to make those hospital gowns so… open, anyway?

  “Good morning, Milayna,” a portly nurse chirped when she walked into the room. A thin African American nurse followed her. I think I liked her best. She went to my bed and fiddled with some buttons on the end of it to make the horrible sirens stop blaring. She was my hero after that.

  “Hi.”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “Judging by the beautiful attire and atrocious smells, I’m going to guess the hospital,” I said.

  The nurse smiled. “Do you remember what brought you here?”

  “Well, I remember being on the wrong side of a fight with a river and a very big log, but after that, it’s a blur.”

  “Who are those people over there?” The nurse pointed in the general direction of my parents.

  “Um, the two with the ridiculous smiles on their faces are my parents. And the two of you are nurses, I think.” I smiled at my mom and dad. “What I want to know is how long I’ve been here and if Ben is okay?”

  “You’ve been here four days and Ben is perfect, Milayna. You did good,” my mom told me, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

  “Let’s get you up and back into bed. We need to get you untangled first.” I stood, leaning on the other nurse while she unplugged me. I was hooked up to heart monitors, blood pressure, oxygen, heart rate, had two IVs, and a bunch of other crap I didn’t know what they were and really didn’t care.

  When I was back in bed and all plugged in again, the nurse showed me the red bracelet on my wrist. “Fall risk. You have to call us before you get up. The bed registers any shift in weight. You try to get up and the sirens blare. So do me a favor and call us first. Otherwise, you give us all migraines,” she said with a smile and patted my hand.

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  “Besides, you have one of these little numbers.” She held up a catheter bag. “You don’t need a bathroom. You don’t think you’ve been here four days and didn’t use the bathroom that entire time, do you?”

  “Um, no. I guess not.” I felt my face burn with a blush.

  Geez, lady. My dad is sitting over there! Just put down the pee bag and walk away.

  “If you promise to call us whenever you need to get out of bed to use the restroom, I’ll talk to the doc about getting that taken out. Deal?” She looked at me and nodded her head.

  I nodded back at her. “Deal.”

  Happy with my compliance, the nurses left. “See you later for your labs,” one called over her shoulder.

  I groaned.

  I hate hospitals. Everyone seems to love inflicting pain and taking blood like a pack of hungry vampires.

  “Ben’s really okay?” I asked my parents as soon as the nurses left.

  “He’s g
reat, Milayna. Worried about you. That was quite a tumble you took,” my dad said.

  “Yeah. What’s broken?”

  “Nothing. You just wouldn’t wake up. Everything is perfectly normal. Oh, except you have a broken rib or two.”

  “Ah, that explains the butt load of pain in my side when I move,” I said. I looked at my mom. She was still crying. I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you crying? I thought everything was fine?”

  “It is,” she blubbered.

  “Okay.” I looked at her.

  “I was just so worried.”

  “Oh, never mind her.” My dad waved her off with his hand. “She’s been crying for the last four days. She’ll still be crying four days from now.”

  I laughed. My ribs quickly informed me they didn’t like laughter.

  My mom slapped my dad on the arm and gave him the death glare before grinning at him. “I will not.”

  “When can I go home?”

  “Probably a day or two, Milayna. You just woke up from a coma. They aren’t going to let you just walk out of here.”

  I sighed. “Dad, I don’t think passing out for four days constitutes a coma.”

  “Actually, it does,” a man said.

  Heart meet toes.

  I would’ve swore—on a stack of Holy Bibles—that Adonis himself had just walked into my hospital room. I swear my eyes did that thing that happens in cartoons when they zoom out before they snap back into the character’s head. Because the man was… whoa. Hot, handsome, beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, all that and a big bag of freakin’ chips. I was afraid my heart monitor was going to go berserk.

  Oh, man, please let this be my doctor. Please, please, please. He is gorgeous. No, not gorgeous. He’s underwear model gorgeous. I bet he looks good in his under–

  “Milayna?” he asked

  “Oh… um… sorry… what?” Oh, wow, underwear-model-doctor even had a great voice.

  “I was saying that it’s not uncommon for drowning victims to suffer a coma. Also, your head injury could have played a part in it. A coma is, simply stated, a deep and extended state of unconsciousness that can result from an injury to the head. I understand you were hit quite hard in the head by the log, or by lack of oxygen, near drowning for example.”

 

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