by John Quick
Surprisingly, she did survive the bridge collapse, proving the idea that the real shits who abandon people in their time of need get what’s coming to them wrong. The story of how she managed to climb out of the wreckage of her car and make it the ten miles to her mother’s house would make a fine tale of its own, but this isn’t the time for that. Our concern is that of those left stranded in Ashford Fork.
Rob’s worst nightmare had come true, you see. The impossible had come to pass. The bridges had collapsed, despite all odds, and now he was unequivocally on his own.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Leanne stepped through her door and dropped her purse on the ground next to her drenched feet. She let out a long breath and wished she had a masseuse on call. Every muscle in her body ached, and she felt as though she’d ended up swimming about half the way here. The water had been racing over the road like another small river forming from the swollen lake, and when her headlights reflected off the back of her neighbor Carrie’s Kia stuck in the middle of a pond in the road, she knew there was no hope of driving the final distance to her house. The wind had turned her umbrella inside-out before she’d made it ten steps, so she’d walked the rest of the way in the pouring rain, and even now could feel the water collected in her shoes and literally dripping from every available surface of her body.
It was sad, really. Ordinarily she liked storms, and had been known to sneak out into her back yard in the dead of night, while the rain and lightning raged above her, and frolic naked across the grass. Savoring the feeling of the dampness under her bare feet, and the rain pelting her exposed skin; there was little danger of being spotted. With the lake directly behind her and separated by a row of trees, and the sheer distance between all the houses on this road, she was free to summon her inner hippie and let loose for as long as she wanted. After the walk home in it, though, the simple pleasure she’d drawn from escapades like that was nowhere to be found.
She sighed and fought the urge to try and shake herself dry like her Labrador sometimes did and reached for the light switch. She flipped it on, but nothing happened. She turned it back off and then on again several times to the same result. She listened closely and discovered the house was extraordinarily silent, the sounds of the central heat and air unit and the refrigerator both missing. The power had obviously gone out at some point, and still hadn’t come back on.
“Well isn’t that just fucking wonderful?” she asked.
Something else about the silence disturbed her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the sheer sodden, dripping mess she was at this moment kept her from turning her full attention to it just now. Even with the lights off, she knew this place like the back of her hand, and would be able to make it to the hall closet where she kept her towels without having to see her way. She pulled off her tennis shoes, wincing at the sound of water splashing out of them when she tipped them over. Her jacket came off next, and she hung it on the doorknob where hopefully it would dry sometime before she needed to put it back on again. Then she squatted and rummaged through her purse until she found her cell phone, unlocked the screen, and turned on the flashlight app just in case.
She pulled a couple of towels out of the closet, and was lucky enough to find an old Coleman lantern her ex-husband had left behind when he moved out, sitting on the top shelf. She pulled it down and shook it, smiling at the sound of fuel sloshing around inside the tank. She had no idea if the stuff went bad over time or not, but if it worked, it would be better than nothing. After one last quick trip into her bedroom to collect her fuzzy robe, she collected her things and headed into the laundry room at the back of the house.
It was pitch black, which was unusual; normally the moon shone directly through the windows and French doors that led out onto her covered patio. Usually, she had a beautiful view of the lake to occupy her as she went about the business of doing her laundry, but tonight she couldn’t even see past the edge of the wooden deck that ran along the entire back of the house.
On the plus side, if Chet and Mitch were still out there fishing, they wouldn’t be able to drift by and catch a glimpse of her naked while she was changing. She stripped down, tossing her wet clothes directly into the washing machine, then pulled the elastic band holding her hair in a ponytail out and dropped it into the little Tupperware bowl she kept to put loose change or pens or whatever else she’d forgotten to take out of her pockets in so they didn’t clank all over the place in the machine. Freed, her hair hung limply across her shoulders, making them feel even wetter than they already did somehow. She used one of the towels to dry it as best she could, and then dropped the damp towel into the washer as well. The second she used to dry the rest of her before it joined everything else.
She shut the lid, hoping she got a chance to run this load before they started to mildew and stink, then pulled her robe over her shoulders and tied it closed at her waist. Just that made her feel tremendously more comfortable than she had when she got home, her skin now mostly dry and the thick robe cradling her like a blanket to warm her back up again. She had a bottle of wine in the fridge she felt an urge to dig into, but with only minimal light from her phone to find the corkscrew, pull the cork, and find a glass without breaking any of the above or managing to hurt herself in the process, it was better not to risk it.
Remembering the lamp, she turned her phone’s light back on and searched the shelf above the washing machine and dryer. As she thought, she finally discovered a long box of kitchen matches that she used to light the grill outside on the rare occasions she felt like going through the hassle of using it. She pulled them down, and then glanced over at the lamp again. Not only did she have no idea whether or not the fuel for it could get old and not work, she didn’t know if the fumes might have built up enough pressure to make the thing explode when she set a flame to the little wicks hanging on the metal rod inside the glass casing. She sighed, grabbed the lantern, and headed for the patio. If it was going to explode, better that it do so outside where she could knock it out into the rain than in here, where it was liable to set the whole damned house on fire.
Thankfully, the covered deck was shielded from the wind for the most part, so the rain didn’t drench her immediately after coming back outside. She carried the lantern over to the little iron table where she sometimes sat and had coffee while she watched the sun come up and sat it down. She propped her phone up so she could see what she was doing, pushed the little primer rod to get fuel flowing in the thing, then opened the compartment she would light it through. She pulled out a match, took a deep breath, struck it, and set it to the wick.
It lit without incident, the cotton batting taking a moment to become saturated enough with the fuel to actually hold a flame, but eventually spreading to the second one hanging beside it. She smiled, reminded of how she’d always thought the little bags of cotton looked like a scrotum inside the glass shell. She’d once said something to that effect to her mother while they were out camping, and had gotten one of the more forceful ass-chewings of her life for it. That wasn’t something nice girls talked about, her mother had told her, and for that matter, how did she know what a scrotum looked like at ten, anyway?
Even as upset as the lecture made her, she’d managed to hold back the tale of how her and one of the neighborhood boys played a game of “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine” earlier in the summer. She had no idea what it meant to have sex, or “do it” as people her age called it, but she’d known boys and girls were different. The game had been one of idle curiosity, not prurient titillation. Not that her mother would have understood the difference, especially when Leanne wouldn’t have known how to properly explain it.
She adjusted the dial to get the lantern burning at a rate she hoped would give her enough light to see by while conserving as much of the fuel as she could. Hopefully, the rain would slack off some by morning so she could go collect her car, maybe make a stop down at the Kwik-Mart to pick up another can of fuel in case the power was
out for a while. Considering how bad this storm was supposed to be, she had to accept that it was a very real possibility.
Without the wind and rain blowing on her, she decided it actually felt decent outside tonight, at least for now. If nothing else, it was worlds better than the stuffy, stifling air inside that resulted from nothing blowing through any of the AC vents. She made sure the little metal chair next to the table was relatively dry as well, then sat down, her legs stretched out, her eyes wandering in the direction of the lake.
It felt good to relax for the first time tonight. After Chet and Mitch failed to return from their fishing trip, it had fallen to her and Gail to hold down the fort at the diner for the evening shift. Rachel had indeed called out, as expected, but in the end it didn’t really matter. They didn’t have a single customer worth mentioning all night, save for officer Neville coming in for a quick cup of coffee before rushing right back out again. He’d said something about a mess down by the lake, but hadn’t really been very forthcoming with more information. Now that she’d had a chance to see what had become of the street she lived on, she thought she at least had some idea of what he was in such a rush about. Closing the roads during a flood were probably a top priority, if for nothing else so they could be sure no one got trapped like Carrie apparently had. For all Leanne knew, she’d been the one to call it in.
She’d still been holding out hope that Rob might show up, but Gail had made the call at barely seven o’clock to shut it down for the night. Instead of lightening up again, the rain actually seemed to be coming down harder and harder, so she logically concluded that if no one had shown up for something to eat, they probably wouldn’t be. Leanne had been disappointed, not because of the early close, but because she thought she might miss Rob if he did stop in. She called the station and had Charlene relay a message to him that they were closing early, but he could call her on her cell if he still wanted to get together anyway. The woman had snickered like a high school girl the entire time, but had promised to deliver the message. He hadn’t called, but since there were no barricades before she reached the washed out part of her road, it was possible he was dealing with a lot of flooding and hadn’t checked in to get the message yet.
She checked her phone and saw it was just now going on nine-thirty. If he didn’t call by ten, she’d just assume he wasn’t going to be able to make it and call it a night herself.
As she started to turn her eyes away from the phone and back to the falling rain, the phone rang, making her jump a little in her seat. She laughed, shaking her head as she reached for it and hit the answer button without bothering to see who it was.
“Think of the devil and he appears,” she said, putting the phone to her ear.
“Leanne?” Gail’s voice came back across the line, scratchy from the storm wreaking havoc on the reception but otherwise understandable. “Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” she replied, rolling her eyes at herself. “Sorry. Thought you were someone else.”
“I’m sure he’ll call, honey,” Gail replied. “He’s probably just really busy right now.”
Leanne felt her cheeks go warm at that. “So, what’s up?”
“I was just going to let you know that we’re not opening the diner in the morning,” Gail replied, acquiescing to the unspoken desire to change the subject. “I was barely able to make it home tonight, what with all the water on the roads. The radio says this is supposed to continue for the next few days, so it’s only going to get worse.”
“Yeah, my road’s flooded out,” Leanne agreed. “I ended up having to walk the last half a mile or so. Power’s gone, too.”
“I am so sorry, honey,” Gail said, and while it would sound patronizing coming from anyone else, from her it sounded nothing but genuine. “We’ve still got our lights on here, but they’re flickering something awful. It’s probably only a matter of time before we lose ours, too.”
“Hopefully not,” Leanne said. “But keeping the diner closed is probably a good idea. I doubt too many people are going to want to get out in this if it’s keeping up. And at least now I don’t have to try and figure out something for an alarm in case my phone ends up dying on me, too.”
“Oh! I never thought of that! I won’t keep you then, honey, I just wanted you to know so you didn’t go all the way down there for nothing.”
Leanne’s smile froze on her face as her eyes landed on her dog’s favorite chew toy, sitting just outside the deck’s covering, jumping slightly under the force of the rain’s onslaught. She suddenly realized what else had been missing, the other sound and presence that she hadn’t heard or felt since coming home that she should have.
“Don’t worry about it, Gail,” she said, no longer really paying any attention. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Not a problem at all,” Gail responded. “You be careful tonight. Make sure you don’t leave any candles burning or anything like that if the power’s still out when you go to bed. You can never be too safe, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, her heartbeat speeding up as she looked around for some sign of the big Lab, but not seeing him anywhere. “You do the same. ‘Night.”
“Good night, honey.”
She disconnected the call and set the phone down without even looking at it, her eyes sweeping across the back yard to try and catch some sign of Magic out there somewhere. Normally, even if he was outside, he came running as soon as she put her key into the door to unlock it, and always greeted her when she stepped inside, but tonight he’d been absent. Her discomfort had made her oblivious to that fact, but now that she was aware of it, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Magic!” she called, hoping to catch some fleeting glimpse of movement. It was possible he was hiding somewhere out in the yard, but she didn’t think so. He hadn’t ever shown any concern over storms before; then again, this was one of the worst she’d seen in her entire life, so anything was possible. “Come here, boy! Mama’s home, where are you?”
Lightning streaked across the sky, and only the following thunder answered her. She heard no movement from inside the house, but all the interior doors had been opened, so if he’d been in there, she would have seen him as she collected her things before heading to the laundry room. She glanced over to the second door which led from the deck to the kitchen, and could just make out his food and water dish inside, next to the oversized dog door she’d had installed so he could come and go as he pleased. She couldn’t be sure without getting up and going over there to check, but both looked empty, which meant he’d eaten and had a drink at some point today, but she still had no idea where he was now.
She looked back out into the sheet of rain just beyond the deck’s cover. A horrible vision of him, down by the lake, maybe stuck in the mud or possibly even drowned and bobbing along its surface came into her mind and wouldn’t go away. As much as she didn’t want to, she would need to go back into the storm and look for him. She couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to him that she could have prevented.
It only took a quick glance at the lantern and her phone to disqualify both of them as potential light sources to accompany her into that deluge; neither would fare very well under constant bombardment of water. She was fairly certain she had a heavy flashlight in the laundry room, as well as a pair of rubber boots and a rain suit she could throw on relatively quickly. Remembering what she’d said about conserving battery power on her phone, she picked up the lantern and headed back inside.
The flashlight was where she thought it was, as was the rain suit. It took her longer than she was hoping for to find the rubber boots, but she finally did, tucked into a little storage closet underneath several piles of assorted detritus she’d collected over the years and kept meaning to sort through.
Not bothering to go all the way inside for underthings, she took off her robe, draped it over the dryer, and pulled on the rain suit. The pants rubbed at her thighs and groin, and she knew if she stayed out in it
too long it would quickly become uncomfortable, but for now, it would have to do. The jacket occasionally rubbed roughly across her nipples, but it too would have to work, just for a little while. She pulled on the boots without bothering to lace them, flipped up the jacket’s hood, grabbed the flashlight, and headed back outside.
Despite her urge to hurry, she forced herself to take her time as she made her way across the yard, heading close enough to the woods on either side of her to see if there were any trails leading into them that looked fresh, but not finding any. She worked her way down the yard, and slowly became aware of a noise down closer to the lake. It was faint at first, but grew louder as she closed the distance. Something began to take shape through the rain, but even as she approached it, she was unable to figure out what it was. Once she thought she was close enough that the light would help, she turned it on the form and froze in her tracks.
Something was lying there, something massive. Underneath, she saw tufts of black fur, and what looked to be raw hamburger meat. Her hand began to tremble when she saw the collar and tags; she’d had the tags made custom, a little magic wand intersecting a star with Magic’s name and her cell phone number engraved on it. The collar had been white when she’d bought it, and even though it had dulled over time, it was still the easiest way she had of seeing where the dog was in the dark.
Now however, the dog’s head appeared to be gone, nothing but raw, red meat in its place. She felt the rest of her body begin to tremble at that, a mixture of fear and rage and heartache. She played the flashlight’s beam up to shine on whatever it was that had killed her dog, her constant companion since he’d been nothing more than a crying, six-week old ball of fur. When she saw the thick lips and long barbs and wide-set eyes of a catfish the size of a grown man staring back at her, she did the only thing that her mind could come up with: she screamed.