In an ‘Oh my God’ fear moment, I spun and screamed out. “Lane!”
I ran to where the RV used to be and could hear the rushing river. It had risen and rushed by.
My hand shot to my mouth.
Then it hit me, we had run to the side of the road not far from the RV, if I was carried back then so was Lane.
He was just carried a little farther, that’s all.
I wasn’t going to allow myself to freak too much, he couldn’t have gone that far. If I hadn’t, neither did he.
“Lane!” I screamed. “Lane!”
I didn’t move fast, I walked slowly, looking at every inch of ground on the eastbound lane. I figured I’d walk down one side, cross over and walk back up the other. If I didn’t spot him, I’d repeat going a farther distance each time.
I didn’t stop calling his name.
But I didn’t see him. Not on the side of the road or middle.
From the debris on the road, it looked as if the water rushed a good bit down the highway before pouring off at that bend where the river ran next to it.
It was just as I saw the bend I also spotted the color of blue. It was a large object, and I knew as soon as I saw what it was, the RV on its side.
Seeing that huge vehicle and how it had moved so far and flipped, caused my stomach to churn.
How did I not go that far?
I glanced down to my watch, hoping it wasn’t broken. It wasn’t. I couldn’t believe it had been over a half an hour since I last glanced down to it. Most of that time was looking for Lane.
“Aunt Jana!” I heard the panic call of my name. “Aunt Jana, please.”
Wait? The radio was working?
“Aunt Jana, please pick up,” Carlie pleaded.
“Sweetie, put it down,” Martin said in the back.
“No. She has to answer. Aunt Jana.”
Hands shaking, I reached inside my coat to the inside pocket. “Oh my God, it’s fine.” Fumbling with the radio, I depressed the button. “Carlie, honey, I’m here. I’m here.”
Carlie squealed. “Pap! She’s okay.”
“Jana,” Martin called out. “Jana, how are you? We heard that storm.”
“I’m fine, I’m not hurt. I can’t find Lane. I can’t find him.” I fought back crying.
“I’m on my way.”
“No, you can’t. The bridge is gone. It’s gone, Martin,” I said. “Just … before the radio dies, get everyone somewhere safe.”
“We’re fine here,” Martin replied. “I’ll find another way.”
“No. Stay with the kids. Stay with everyone. I’m going to shut the radio off to save battery power. I’ll radio back, I promise. I just have to find him.”
“I feel so helpless,” Martin said.
“So do I. But at least I know you guys are safe. I’ll get to you … we’ll get to you. In case the radio dies, try to leave word where you are.”
“I will. And Jana … I know you’ll find him.”
I thanked him, told him and the kids I loved them, then hating to do so, I shut off the radio, putting it back in my pocket.
I wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. With how carefully and slowly I had been searching, I barely covered much of the highway.
There was a lot more ground to cover.
Without seeing any signs of Lane, I promised myself I wouldn’t give into desperation or hopelessness. I was going to be strong, and I would not give up on finding him.
TWENTY-ONE – FINDING GOLD
A cough.
My legs could have weighed a thousand pounds each. I was dragging them with each step I took. The overcast sky gave a grim look to everything. The only positive was the clouds didn’t look as if they were forming any incoming sort of storm. No swirling, no dark gray. Perhaps it was my imagination, but it looked as though they were breaking up.
With my shoulders slumping, I didn’t think I could keep going on. A part of me turned my thoughts to the RV and how I could use it for shelter, if it were still viable. I’d have to climb in, look and check out what was there.
A place to hunker down for the night, then I’d think about the next day and how I would get to the other bridge. If that one was still standing. I believed it was. If the funnel broke after hitting the Sixty-four bridge, it never made it north to the other bridge.
It made me sad and my thoughts turned from desperately seeking Lane, to ‘what if’ I didn’t find him, what would I do next? Then I heard the cough.
It was one at first, then increased to almost a choking.
Unless someone else just washed onto the highway, it had to be only one person … Lane.
I had made it hundreds of feet, maybe even a thousand from where the RV originally was, and the cough came from behind me.
How did I miss him? I searched with my eyes being a fine tooth comb.
Quickly, I turned around and headed back.
The coughing grew louder.
“Lane!” I cried out.
Nothing.
Then …
“Jana,” he called out with a struggling voice.
It was Lane.
He coughed again and I was able to get a direction.
It came from the west bound lane. At least two hundred feet from where I had held on to that sign.
On the other side of the highway, the landscape was a long hillside down.
I raced across, looked over the guardrail and there, body tangled in a bush and what looked like a tire, was my husband.
The thick brush and tire had saved him.
Saved him from going down into the roaring river below and not far from him.
When the wall of water crashed down, it swept over us with a force, taking Lane with it before me and carrying him with the strong current.
He was brought across the highway, over the guard rail, and when the tire got stuck, Lane must have landed with it.
By the grace of God and only that was why my husband still alive.
But I didn’t know how alive or well he was.
“Lane,” I called out his name again.
This time he lifted his head, I could see his body shaking each time he coughed.
I reached for the guardrail to climb over. It proved a bit difficult with wet jeans, but I made it over. The hillside was steep, and I slid on purpose more than walked to get to him faster.
By the time I made it to him, he was on his hands and knees.
I reached for him, grabbing on, so grateful he was alright, grateful I didn’t have to navigate it alone.
“Don’t move.” I crouched down, bracing under his arm. “Are you hurt?”
“Don’t move? Did you …” he paused to cough. “Just tell me not to move?”
“I did.”
“Like, you’re gonna call for help?”
I just stared at him.
“I don’t think I’m hurt. Just can’t stop coughing. I took in a lot of water.”
“How the hell did you get this far without getting hurt?” I asked. “You have to be hurt.”
“I’m sore. Yeah, like real sore, but not hurt. I was in the water until I got caught up.”
“Look down there,” I said with a point to the river. “Be grateful you did get caught up.”
“Good thing.” He stood upright and hit himself on the chest, this forced a cough.
“Are you alright?” I held on to him, walking him back up the hill. He moved wobbly, but I understood why.
“I have to cough it out, but I’ll be fine. I don’t swim, so I’m surprised I didn’t drown.”
“Yeah, I do swim and it was useless.”
“It got you?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, carried me until I was able to grab the sign.” We reached the guard rail.
“How far did I go?”
“Not much farther than me, but you went over the steep side.”
“I’d say.” Lane looked back.
“I’ve been calling and looking for you for a while.” I climbed over the rail
, then waited on the other side to help him.
“How bad are things?” he asked stepping over.
I didn’t need to answer, the second he made it to the highway he turned left, and all expression dropped from his face. “The bridge is gone.”
“Yep. It’s gone.”
“Did the RV go with it?”
I shook my head. “It’s back there. Not far. And Lane, I am so happy you’re okay.”
“I’m happy you are. But Jana, with the bridge gone … what now?”
“I don’t know. We’ll work on it. But first …” I reached into my jacket and pulled out the radio.
I turned on the radio to check in and let them know we were okay, and we were figuring things out. Martin and the kids were so relieved.
I promised to try to check in again, but the radio would die and if they didn’t hear from us they needed to know we were fine, and we’d get over that river one way or another.
I didn’t know when or how long it would take us, but we would join them again.
I was certain.
✽✽✽
My map was useless, wet and falling apart. But I really didn’t need it, I swore I knew it like the back of my hand. “About fifty miles,” I hollered to Lane who was inside the RV.
We had made it there in little time. A lot faster than when I walked at a snail’s pace looking for Lane.
If we were to try to find an alternative way across the river, we needed supplies.
The RV had them.
“Fifty miles?” he asked.
“Either way.”
“I think I found that fire starter kit.” His head emerged from the side RV door and he tossed the pack at me. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. With wet wood we’ll need this.” I set it down with the other things he had thrown from the RV.
“At least it stopped raining.” He looked up then submerged back into the camper.
I heard him coughing again, it was muffled by the metal of the camper. He had taken in a lot of water, but I took the coughing as a good sign, his lungs were trying to get clear.
“You don’t think the other bridges were destroyed?”
“I don’t know. I’m using common sense. It was a funnel of water that burst when it hit the bridge. Had it hit another it would have burst earlier, right?”
“Right.”
“Are you sure you don’t want my help?”
“No, I’m finding food. I’ll toss it out.”
“Look for those silver blankets.”
“Found them.” He popped up again, threw them out and went back in. “Two days. It’ll take us two days to walk there. I think we can do it in two days. Three tops.”
“It’ll be another fifty to the resort or wherever Martin is.”
“Then get a hold of him, use what radio you have left and give him an idea of where we’ll be.” Lane emerged. “Maybe he’ll find a vehicle.” He tossed a duffle bag. “I think that will do it. Let me take one more look.”
“I’ll radio Martin.” I pulled out the radio and powered it up, turning up the volume to see if I heard any noise. I did. “Martin, come in. Are you there?”
I released the button.
“Jana, yes, everything okay?”
“Yes. We made it to the RV and are getting supplies. Looks like we’re going to have to go on foot. We’re headed back to Crow and will take Route Three south and across the bridge. Not sure what’s there. Give us three days. We’ll meet you at the end of that bridge. Can you do that?”
“Can I? Not a question,” Martin replied. “I will.”
“Is everyone safe? Did you get close to the resort?”
“We’re on our way. We should be there tomorrow. Listen, I’ll find a way, there are cars on the road. We’ll get you.”
“Thank you. And Martin, again, the radio will die, so I’m shutting it off. I’ll call out only if there’s a problem. So, no news will be good news.”
“Roger that,” Martin said. “See you soon.”
I absolutely hated powering down that radio, but I had to. “Lane, did you hear?”
“Yeah.” He coughed a few times, then whined out. “Aw.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“The Ten High bottle broke. But can you believe this …” He climbed out of the RV holding that expensive bottle of bourbon I gave back to Martin. “It survived.”
“Did Martin have it wrapped?” I asked.
Lane shook his head. “Nope.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s so expensive. It’s made with unbreakable glass.”
“At least we have this, right? You said no news will be good news. Well, any booze is better than no booze. It’ll keep us warm.” He handed me the bottle and grabbed bags, coughing as he did.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.” He handed me a couple bags. “I don’t want to load us down. It’s a long walk. Maybe we’ll find something in Crow.”
“That’s still thirty miles away.”
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Nearly five.”
“We have about two more hours then we’ll stop and make camp. Get a fresh start in the morning. Hopefully, no bad weather.” He reached for the final bag.
When he did that, I looked at the RV. It was on its side and I stared at the underbelly of it. That’s when I noticed it. The rectangular, large object. “Lane, is that the gas tank?”
“Yeah, it is. Kinda rusty.”
“It is.” I walked to it. I knocked on the higher part and heard the hollow sound, then knocked on the bottom, looked at Lane and smiled. “There’s gas in here.”
“Yeah, but a lot of good that will do us. We can’t flip the RV.”
“I’m not talking about the RV. Your pickup truck is about twelve miles back. We only need a couple gallons for it. I saw one of our empty gas canisters on the road up there. One of the ones we had on the roof. I mean we’d have to lug it with supplies.”
“You know how hard it will be to siphon the gas?” Lane asked.
“We don’t need to siphon it. There’s a screwdriver in the glove compartment,” I said. “It’s already rusty. Position the can, poke a hole in it and try to catch the gas in the canister.”
“Jana,” Lane said with awe. “That might work.”
I nodded. “It’s not gonna hurt to try.”
“That’s really good thinking. Man, I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be too impressed, I saw it on a Discovery Channel survival show. Why don’t you find that screwdriver and I’ll run and get that gas can.”
“You got it.” Lane set down the bags and headed back to the RV.
I walked back up the road at a quick pace to where I thought I remembered seeing it. I was optimistic and a little enthused. I really wanted the plan to work. I wasn’t sure if the latest storm was part of the big bad Ares or if Ares was still yet to come. We couldn’t chance it. We were in the middle of a highway with nowhere to go.
No shelter.
Our best bet was to get the gas, get to the truck and drive to safety.
<><><>
It was an exhausting day. Both emotionally and physically traumatizing. It had a different effect on me. Where I should have been exhausted, I was hyper and nervous. Lane was wiped out.
Judging by the mile markers we made it seven miles, two miles after we saw where the water had stopped. There was very little debris on the road and since the rain had stopped and the temperature wasn’t as cold, the ground started to dry.
We made camp in the median strip between the four lanes. While the actual highway would have been best, I didn’t want to take a chance of a vehicle plowing down the highway in the middle of the night. Not that it was probable.
I was able to gather enough wood to make a fire. It was damp, but we managed to get it going. That was another reason I didn’t want to sleep, I just wanted to keep the fire alive. Help dry our clothes.
We only salvaged one sleeping bag. I let Lane have
it, I didn’t plan on sleeping much. Plus, I propped myself against the supplies and used a mylar blanket.
Our supper was a can of soup and some Meals Ready to Eat peanut butter and crackers. We saved the Chicken Teriyaki meal from the kit for another time.
Lane wasn’t hungry, in fact, he was exhausted beyond belief and I figured being tossed around, digging in the RV and all that coughing just beat him down.
We shared a little of the bourbon, then Lane was done. He kissed me goodnight, tucked into his sleeping bag and was fast asleep.
He finally stopped coughing and that made me happy. He was getting rest.
I leaned back, my head on the duffle bag, thinking about our journey. Thinking about where we were, what we endured and embracing the silence of the night.
Silence.
All but the crackling of the fire.
No thunder, no wind.
Quiet.
That was when I looked up to the sky and saw them.
Stars.
My mouth dropped open looking at the wide open sky, stars filling it to capacity, shining and blinking. Not a single cloud was there.
It was the first time in days the sky was clear.
Did Ares not come? Or maybe the counter Jupiter attack worked.
Either way, the clear sky to me was a sure sign it was over.
I reached over to Lane.
“Lane, honey. Lane, I know you’re sleeping, but you have to see the sky.”
He groaned and rolled over, fidgeting some.
I reached for him again and my hand stayed on his arm for a few seconds, I thought everything was fine and that it was all over.
But it wasn’t.
Lane’s breathing was harsh. A soft crackling, gurgling sound emanated from his chest and his skin was like fire to the touch.
He was burning up.
Something was wrong with my husband.
TWENTY-TWO – LAST LEG
“Martin, please, come in. Please. Do you hear me?” I called out. “Lane is sick. Something is wrong.”
I made the radio plea. It turned on, but somewhere in that plea, the little green power light went out.
The radio was dead.
Lane responded to my calls, but he wouldn’t stay awake. He would stir, mumble something, then pass back out.
Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller Page 15