by Nancy Isaak
I suddenly heard the tick, tick, tick of bike chains, and Andrei, Jude, and Rhys skidded up.
“What the hell!” Rhys jumped off of his bicycle and raced over. “What happened?”
“She won’t stop moving!” Topher cried out. “She needs to stop moving right now!”
Everyone ran to the railing and looked down, just as Cherry pushed herself up into a sitting position. She rose one hand out of the water, tapping at her head, as if to clear it.
“You’ve gotta’ stop moving, Cherry!” yelled Jude, leaning over the guard rail. “Dude, don’t move an inch! We’re coming for you.”
“If the river catches her, it’ll sweep Cherry away,” I said. “We need to hold hands…make a line and reach out and grab her. Topher, I want you on anchor. Wrap yourself around the guard rail.”
“She’s trying to stand up now!” Jude shouted at us; then, she turned and yelled down to Cherry. “Seriously, dude…you gotta’ stop moving!”
“Andrei, you hold onto Topher,” I ordered. “Then you, Jude. Rhys, you and I are next. We’ll be in the river so hold on tight!”
“She’s not listening,” Jude turned to me, looking scared. “We need to hurry!”
We all made a lifeline—Topher holding onto the guard rail, Andrei grabbing his belt with one hand, the other holding onto Jude’s belt.
Meanwhile, Cherry—looking like a drunken sailor—slowly maneuvered herself up onto her feet.
“No!” gasped Rhys.
Cherry give us a little wave. “I’m okay…no worries.”
And then—the river took her.
* * * *
Cherry went down hard—landing once again on her back in the water. Her feet went up this time and the current caught her. The next thing we knew—Cherry was being pulled past us. Rhys grabbed at my belt as I jumped for her. My fingers glanced off her arm, barely touching the sleeve of her jacket, before she slipped away—struggling against the pull of the river.
The next thing I knew, I was swallowing a mouthful of water and the current was sucking at me, trying to pull my head under. A hand wrapped itself around my waist, while another grabbed at my flailing arm. I was pulled back onto the river bank, coughing and sputtering. Rhys and Jude stood over me, tears in their eyes—not knowing what to do.
“She’s gone!” Rhys cried. “Cherry—she’s down the river—we can’t see her anymore!”
I spit out a mouthful of dirty water and shoved myself to my feet. “Hurry!” I yelled. “We can still get her! The water she’s caught in isn’t deep. It’s just that it’s moving too fast for her to escape the current!”
Stumbling up the river bank, I flung myself over the guard rail and grabbed my bike. Behind me, Rhys and Jude were hurrying toward their own bicycles, while Topher was helping a coughing Andrei up the bank.
Within moments, I was pedaling furiously along the frontage road—heading downriver—stopping every hundred yards or so to see if I had caught up to Cherry. The third time I stopped was at a small bridge that spanned the river. I rode right onto it, swerving around its abandoned vehicles and stopping in the middle.
“See anything?” asked Rhys, riding up beside me.
“No…she has to be still ahead of us,” I said. “We need to move quicker!”
Jude was already continuing along the frontage road, when Rhys and I turned off of the bridge. Farther behind us, I could see Topher and Andrei trying hard to catch up.
“How much farther do we go?” yelled Rhys, pedaling beside me.
“Until we find her!” I shouted back.
There was an oxbow up ahead—a place in the river where it folded back onto itself before it curved around and headed in its original direction once again. I pointed to the first arc of the oxbow. “That’s where we’ll find her,” I yelled at Rhys. “It’ll be where the current slows down.”
Up ahead, Jude had thrown down her bike and was racing toward the river. “Hurry up!” she shouted back at us. “She’s over here! I can see her!”
Rhys and I skidded to a stop, flying off of our bikes before they could even drop to the ground. As we ran forward, I could see Jude pushing down toward the riverbank, struggling to create a path through a thick band of bulrushes.
Cherry, meanwhile, was in the midst of her own struggle.
She was still on her back—close to the middle of the river. One hand was the only thing that was keeping her in place; Cherry was clutching a tree branch that had been caught up on a rock. Her whole body was shaking—from both the trauma and the fierce cold of the raging water. As we ran toward the edge of the road, her fingers began to slip along the length of the branch.
Cherry was tiring.
Between the current and her fatigue, she was losing her grip.
“Hang on, Cherry!” yelled Jude. “We’re coming!”
* * * *
Rhys and I flung ourselves down the path Jude had made; the bulrushes were tall, in some places, higher than my head—so we didn’t know that Cherry was gone until we came out of the vegetation at the edge of the river.
We found Jude there, her head hanging low, tears falling down her cheeks. “Too late…we were too late.”
Beside me, Rhys stifled a sob.
“No!” I cried. “Not even!” Then, I turned and sprinted back through the bulrushes. Rhys followed behind, matching me step-for-step. As we rushed back onto the frontage road, Andrei and Topher were just arriving on their bikes.
I waved them forward. “Go, go...she’ll be down the river!”
They immediately took off on their bikes, pedaling fast. I noticed that Andrei had unhooked his trailer and, somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if anybody might steal it.
Then, the other part of my mind realized that—as long as we got Cherry back—I couldn’t have cared less.
* * * *
The rivers in Southern California are strange beasts. For most of the year, they are unimpressive—mere trickles of water, a thin line often drawn along a cement pathway.
But—when the rain comes, they rise up and roar.
As Southlanders we know that it isn’t the depth of the river that matters here—it’s the speed of the current. Four inches of fast-moving river water can sweep you off of your feet and carry you for miles.
For that very reason, the specialized men and women who brave the rivers are called ‘swift water rescuers’. We see them on television—roped to each other, wading into a watery hell, pushing back against a force of nature that threatens to engulf and swallow them whole.
But they never give up.
* * * *
And neither would I.
My legs became like iron; fueled by adrenaline, they pumped faster than I knew they were capable. I easily caught up to Andrei and Topher, passing them as I swerved around a fallen tree.
“Make sure you check the struts on all the overpasses!” I yelled at them. “She could get caught up on one of them.”
If Cherry hit a strut head-on, the force of the river’s current would literally hold her in place—pushed up against the cement columns that support the overpass. Which could possibly help Cherry—if she could manage to find a handhold and pull herself to safety.
On the other hand, if the current curled around Cherry and pushed her down under the water, she would ultimately be forced against the column—unable to move, unable to escape.
Then—Cherry would drown.
* * * *
A mile and a half down the frontage road, I heard a bicycle slowly gaining on me. I figured it was Rhys, so I was shocked when I glanced back—to see Jude. She had just passed my brother and was seconds away from reaching me. Her hair was plastered against her forehead from the rain and her own sweat, and she was breathing hard.
“We’ve got a slow point coming up!” I yelled at her. “The river curves away from the road. I can see it from here. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch her when the river turns back.”
Jude was unable to speak, she was pumping so hard. Ins
tead, she merely nodded. Meanwhile Rhys managed to pull his bike up on my other side.
“We’ll probably only have seconds to make our move!” I shouted at him. “We’ll use the same line-up and hold onto each other’s belts!”
“I don’t know if Andrei and Topher are going to be able to keep up,” Rhys yelled.
Glancing back, I saw that they had, indeed, fallen farther behind us. Honestly, I was surprised that Andrei was able to keep up at all. Of all of us, Andrei might have been the best cyclist—but he was also beginning to cough.
Andrei was getting sick.
* * * *
Beside us, the river left the frontage road, moving left across a flooded field, then arcing around in the distance. I slowed, for a moment—just enough so that I could stand up on my pedals and search along the river for Cherry’s shape.
Unfortunately, there was too much debris swirling along the waters; I could make out nothing that even approximated our friend’s body.
“See her?” asked Jude.
“Not, yet. But she could be in the curve, heading back toward us.”
We took off again, pumping hard—gasping for air with each tortured breath we took.
A quarter mile ahead, the river curved back toward the frontage road. We reached that point quickly, and I skidded to a stop. “Oh God!”
Jude and Rhys came up short beside me, their rear tires skidding around, sending puddles of water spraying across my face and shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” asked Rhys. “Is it Cherry?!”
I pointed downriver to where the river suddenly disappeared under a long expanse of cement. There was a factory of some kind there, built up over the water. Obviously the river must come out somewhere on the other side, but it was too far away for us to see.
“If she’s already passed us,” groaned Jude, “there’s no way she would have been able to survive that!”
“I don’t see her coming!” cried Rhys. He had climbed up onto a rock and was staring upriver. “Jacob…I don’t see Cherry!”
The knot of fury inside of me began to expand. I felt it spreading throughout my body, strengthening my resolve, giving me power. Whipping my head about, I searched for the solution I knew instinctively that we would need.
And then I saw it.
“There!” I yelled. “We’ll catch Cherry right there!”
I started running along the river bank. Rhys and Jude ran after, puffing away.
“Jacob, wait!” shouted Jude. “We don’t even see her! What if she’s already passed us? Maybe we should look for her on the other side of the factory.”
A smattering of bulrushes impeded my access to the point on the river that I was seeking. Pushing them away with my hands, ignoring the slices they gave me—the blood now dripping from my fingers—I stumbled through the reeds, finally reaching the edge of the river’s bank.
“Do you see it?!” I cried, as Jude and Rhys came up behind me.
Jude had also cut herself on the bulrushes. There was a long slash across her right arm and her forehead was dripping blood.
Gasping for breath, Jude shook her head at me—confused.
Rhys just waited—tears in his eyes.
I pointed to the narrowing of the river—just past where it curved back around to recreate its original form. “The current will be faster there but we should be able to reach her, no matter where she comes along the river. We’ll link together just like before but, this time, we’ll have the length we need.”
There was a crashing through the bulrushes and Andrei and Topher stumbled along the bank toward us.
“We need to get ready!” I said, excited. “Grab onto each other’s belts. Topher, use that piece of rebar over at the edge of the river to hold yourself steady. We’ll link off of you.”
Nobody moved.
They were looking at me with sadness and resignation.
“It’s okay, Jacob.” Jude finally said. “You did everything you could.”
“Cherry would be proud of us,” said Topher. “I know she would.”
Oh God…please, not now.
I turned to my brother, becoming frantic. “Bro, you and me…we’re surfers! If there’s one thing we know…if there’s one thing I know...it’s how to read water!”
Rhys blinked—as if something suddenly sparked behind his eyes.
“Cherry’s coming!” I cried, grabbing him by the arms and shaking him—trying to make him see it. “But it won’t be long! We can save her, bro—but only if we work together. Please, Rhys,” I begged. “Please!”
The spark flamed up; he pushed my hands away.
“Move it!” Rhys yelled to the others. He grabbed Topher and began dragging him toward the rebar. “My brother times waves better than anybody I’ve ever met. If he says that Cherry is still in the river, then she’s still there!”
* * * *
But she was too far away!
I had timed the movement of the current correctly, but I had misjudged the width of the river. When Cherry came shooting around the corner, I knew immediately that we were going to miss her. She was still on her back, her arms drifting behind her; whether she was alive or dead, I had no idea.
None of that mattered anyway—because we couldn’t reach her!
“Lean into it!” I screamed, when Cherry was twenty yards away. “I need two more feet at least!”
There were groans from Andrei and Topher as they leaned forward. Right behind me, Jude puffed hard as she struggled to keep me from falling into the river.
“Jude!” yelled Rhys, behind her. “Give this to Jacob...HURRY!”
With Andrei holding tightly onto Rhys’ belt—and my brother holding onto Jude’s with one hand—Rhys used his other to pass up his sniper rifle. The moment it hit Jude’s free hand, she tossed it toward me.
I fumbled and the rifle tumbled in my frozen, wet hands. Then—somehow—I found purchase; the rifle was mine! Quickly, I flipped it around, so its butt end was facing out, the loop of its shoulder strap dangling into the water.
Cherry was ten yards away!
“Jude, you need to hold me!” I yelled back.
Letting go of her hand, I leaned forward precariously. For a moment, I thought I would fall into the water, then I felt Jude’s hands latch onto my belt.
Eight yards!
There was no movement from Cherry; she rose and fell with the current, like a piece of driftwood—pale and bloodless.
“Please, God,” I heard, Jude whisper behind me. “Please!”
Six yards!
I thought hard, trying to figure out how to do this.
Five yards!
Legs toward me…rifle…shoulder strap.
Four yards!
Cherry’s body dipped in a trough. Her legs bounced up, her right one a few inches higher than the left.
Three yards—one chance!
I jammed the rifle forward, shoving the strap low in the water. Behind me, Jude groaned as I leaned even lower, pushing the rifle as far as I could toward Cherry.
Her right leg came down, slicing the water right where I hoped it would land—between the rifle and its strap. Like a thread lacing through a needle, Cherry’s leg lanced through the strap, banging up against the body of the rifle with so much force that the weapon was nearly pulled from my hands.
Someone was crying behind me—I could hear the sobs of terror, though I didn’t know who they were coming from.
Meanwhile, Cherry’s body—disturbed from its forward trajectory—spun around like a top. Now, suddenly, it was her head facing downstream and, as the current caught her once more, I watched as her leg began to slip from between the rifle and its strap.
“PULL BACK!” I screamed, wrenching backward on the rifle at the same time.
Even as I felt the pressure take hold on my waist, the tip of Cherry’s boot came into my reach. I grabbed on with both hands—threading my fingers through her bootlaces.
“PULL!” I screamed again. “PULL!”
And then—I began to fall.
* * * *
My face hit the water first.
It was freezing—so cold that, ironically, it burned where it touched my bare skin. Suddenly, I was drowning, my head under water, forcing myself not to take a breath.
I could feel hands at my waist—Jude’s—as I was wrenched backward. My face scraped along the bottom of the river, my cheek smashing up against a rock. Feeling lightheaded, I knew that I was about to pass out. My brain screamed for me to push myself up from the water, to take a breath of cool, fresh air.
But—to do that—I would need to let go of Cherry’s boot.
Not a chance.
* * * *
It must have been only seconds before they finally pulled Cherry and me ashore.
So, why did it feel like forever?
As Jude pried my frozen fingers out of Cherry’s bootlaces, I sat on the river bank, coughing and vomiting. When my stomach stopped rebelling and I could finally speak again, I crawled over to where Topher, Rhys, and Andrei had surrounded Cherry.
She was lying on her back—not moving.
“How’s she doing?” I rasped.
None of the guys said anything.
Jude, meanwhile, moved over to Cherry and—using two fingers—checked for a pulse. Then, she leaned down and placed her head against Cherry’s chest.
“She’s breathing,” said Jude. “And I can definitely hear a heartbeat.”
Suddenly, Cherry began to cough violently; she appeared to be struggling to breathe.
“Roll her onto her side!” I ordered. “She’s probably got water in her lungs.”
Gently, Jude placed Cherry onto her side. Within seconds, Cherry’s coughing increased.
“What’s happening?” asked Andrei, worried. “Why is she doing that?”
Cherry’s belly suddenly began to spasm. Then, her back arched and she vomited. Dark water arced out of her mouth, staining the ground all around her head.
Andrei immediately jumped back, disgusted. “Ewww!”
