Bad Dad

by Sloane Howell

  “One.”

  More footsteps in my ear. Janet’s car door slammed.

  “Two.”

  “Ms. Chapman!” Logan’s voice was laced with dread. Janet screamed hysterically.

  I planted my feet against the rocks and pivoted the balls of my feet back and forth like I was squishing bugs beneath both of them, searching for the perfect grip, the perfect spot to gain the most traction. A God-like energy rush flooded my body. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Blood pistoned through my veins.

  I glanced down at the water. The bubbles disappeared, the roiling underwater stopped, and the surge of adrenaline increased ten-fold.

  “Three!”

  My entire body combusted as I drove my legs down into the creek bed like I was trying to kick my way through the gates of Hell. The unmoving earth took all that energy and forced it right back up through my legs and arms. Joe mimicked my actions identically. The car lifted up. We both had lousy grips, but that couldn’t stop us. The slick metal was hard to grip but it didn’t matter. We weren’t letting go. We weren’t stopping. The water rocked back and forth in the car, shifting, and turning. Fighting us to swallow the Prius back down into the mouth of the creek. I bore down into the metal with my fingertips and surged with my legs. It was now or never.

  Joe and I both let out roars. Thick ropes of veins popped out on our necks and snaked over our bodies. We were both nothing but corded muscle and rough sinew and arteries threatening to burst out of our thighs and chests.

  “Holy shit,” someone said behind us.

  Rushing water.

  Spilling out of the car.

  The higher we got the car, the lighter it became.

  Momentum built.

  I screamed so loud I thought I’d lost my voice. My ears rang like someone fired a shotgun next to my head and my heart felt like it was pumping in my skull.

  Sloshing water.

  People wading next to us.

  Joe and I both flipped our palms onto the roof of the car once it was angled around forty-five degrees. Three other men in uniforms rushed through the water and slammed their palms onto the car with us. We all heaved into it with everything we had.

  The car hung in the air for a brief moment and then the tires crashed down in the creek bed right-side up.

  I yanked on the door but it wouldn’t budge in the waist-high water. I ripped and pulled at it. Couldn’t get it to move. Cora lay there, limp in her seat. Eyes closed. Chin on her chest. Pale. Purple lips. Purple fingertips. “Cora!” I belted out another roar and went apeshit. “Cora!” I yanked and thrashed until metal started to pop, and bolts started to crunch, and the sounds set my blood aflame. I pulled and screamed and tore the door right off its hinges.

  Water rushed all around us.

  I reached down and felt around. Found the latch and clicked the seatbelt off her. She was a limp noodle. Dead weight in my arms. No pulse. No breathing. The purple lips and fingers sent a wave of horror up my spine.

  I hauled her up into my arms and took off up the side of the ditch and sat her gently onto the camber of the country highway.

  I turned to Joe. “Watch for traffic!”

  Joe ran out onto the road and kept guard. A police officer followed him to help.

  A paramedic ran up and tried to hop down to perform mouth-to-mouth on her.

  I checked Cora’s pulse with one hand on her neck and shoved the guy with my free arm.

  He flew back onto the road, flat on his back. His bag of equipment slammed into the road and rattled around.

  Nobody was touching her but me. I was trained to do anything she’d need. If she died, it was going to be on me and nobody else. She wasn’t breathing.

  “Ms. Chapman! Ms. Chapman! Please wake up!” Logan shrieked.

  I checked her throat to make sure her airway was clear. It was. I tilted her head back slightly and put upward pressure on her jaw. I pinched her nose off and blew air into her lungs twice. I watched her chest rise, and then released her nose and watched it fall.

  Nothing.

  I worried about her circulation. She’d been out too long. Would she have brain damage? Dying wasn’t an option. She was going to live.

  I repeated the procedure.

  The road and everyone on it was dead silent.

  Nothing.

  I repeated it. Over and over. Her lungs would rise, and then fall, and then nothing.

  A hand on my shoulder.

  “Landon.”

  I shook the hand off me. It was Joe’s. I could tell by the size.

  I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t in control of my body anymore.

  I kept going. Over and over.

  Nothing.

  No response.

  “Landon, she’s gone.”

  “Fuck you!” I screamed through the tears. Didn’t care who heard me. She wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t losing the love of my life. I hugged her up to my chest. Kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. “Please come back to me. Please.” I rocked back and forth for a moment, then went through the procedures all over again.

  Joe finally yanked me off her after another few cycles.

  I fell backward onto him and my fingernails clawed at the pavement trying to get back to her. She was lying there all alone, flat on the pavement. Pale as a ghost. My fingers dug so hard into the asphalt, that when Joe yanked on me I ripped some of it up and left streaks of crimson.

  “No! Cora!”

  I kicked my legs against the ground, trying to get traction and force myself back over to her. Joe wrapped me up from behind in a chokehold and cut off my air supply. I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t care. I surged again with my hands stretched out at her.

  It was like doing a sit up with a Mack truck strapped to my neck. I swung backward like I had earlier in the evening. My head smashed Joe square in his already-broken nose. I felt blood on my neck, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

  “Breathe, asshole.”

  I stared.

  She couldn’t be gone.

  No way.

  We were meant to be together. She was everything to me. Everything! My mind couldn’t accept it. I froze, and Joe’s arms loosened. I still couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

  Then Cora’s body jerked. She convulsed. Her back arched up violently from the road like a huge wave of oxygen slammed into her lungs.

  She coughed. Choked.

  Murky water spewed out of her mouth and ran down her cheeks. Her chest heaved and then fell. She gasped for air.

  Joe’s arms dropped.

  “Cora!”

  “Holy shit.”

  It was all I heard from behind me. I sprint-crawled to her and rolled her to her side. She jerked violently again and threw up what had to be another gallon of the nasty creek water.

  Her color came back. Her cheeks flushed with pink and her body warmed. Blood was flowing.

  I propped up her head and stroked her hair while she coughed up more water from her lungs and stomach. She gasped.

  The paramedics rushed over. They got her stabilized and hooked up with an oxygen mask, then eased her gently onto a stretcher.

  I glanced out at her car in the creek bed. On the roof of the car I saw where Joe and I had dug our fingers into the hard shell. It looked like eight bullet holes on each side, each evenly spaced apart in a perfect line.

  They loaded Cora up into the ambulance. I tried to follow.

  “We don’t have room. I’m sorry. Follow us to the ER. Providence St. Patrick. Her vitals are good, though.”

  I looked up and her eyes opened. They rolled over to me and stared. I wondered how much of her was left in there. There was no telling. The brain was a tricky organ. I kissed my hand and held my palm out at her. Her hands were down at her side, but on her good arm I saw two of her fingers try to raise up from the bed, like she wanted to reach out for my hand, but couldn’t.

  The sirens howled, and the lights flared. They sped off toward the hospital in Missoula.

  Logan sprinted
over and tackled my ribs. I dropped a hand down to his back and squeezed him against me.

  “She’s going to be fine,” Logan said. “She’s going to be fine. Right, Dad?”

  “She’ll be okay.” Joe walked over. His nose was bashed to shit, and blood streamed down toward his mouth. He grinned right through it. “She’s a tough lady.”

  Something in his voice gave me hope. She was alive. It was better than three minutes before.

  I turned around and stared back behind us. A bright camera light blinded me. All I could make out was the silhouette of a woman with a microphone in her hand in front of a glowing haze. The assholes had gotten a second camera out. Unbelievable. The media were nothing but fucking predators.

  I glanced around at the road to try to figure out what’d happened. Looked over at Joe. He nodded at the news van.

  We both walked along and observed the two pairs of tread marks stretching down the road to the point where Cora’s Prius flipped.

  It all made sense at once.

  “You see what I see?” I turned to Joe.

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  I stormed over to the news crew.

  “Don’t hurt anyone,” Janet said.

  I must’ve looked pretty menacing. The reporter’s hand trembled and the mic dropped and rattled around on the ground.

  I side-stepped the first video camera I’d already crushed that was lying on the ground. Couldn’t believe the nerve of these assholes.

  I snatched the second camera right off the guy’s shoulder. I yanked it off him so hard it sent him tumbling to the ground. I turned and hurled it about a hundred feet out into the trees like a hammer thrower in the Olympics. Branches cracked and hissed as it crashed down through them.

  The reporter’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell?”

  “You have ten seconds to get the hell out of here.”

  “Or else what?”

  I stared out where I’d just thrown their camera. “You’ll be next.”

  “You can’t do this. We have rights.”

  Joe stood in front of the cameraman who’d made his way up to his feet. “Where’s the hard drive?” Joe glared.

  I nodded. “Good thinking.”

  “It was in the camera.”

  I punched a hole in the side of their van. Right through the fiberglass shell.

  They both jumped.

  “You chased her down in this van, didn’t you?”

  They both looked away.

  “Look at the tread marks. You practically ran her off the road. Probably blinded her with that damn camera light. You chased her down while she was driving.”

  “We d-d-didn’t—”

  “You saw her coming from my place and you pounced!” I punched another hole in their van.

  “He looks pretty angry.” Joe snickered. “I’d probably tell the truth.”

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  The camera guy gave them up first. He nodded furiously. “I’m s-s-sorry.”

  Logan stormed up in front of me and glared at both of them. “Get out of my town!”

  They both looked down at him. The side of Joe’s mouth quirked up in a smile. Mine probably did the same.

  “Now!” Logan bowed his chest out.

  Joe and I folded our arms across our chest and glared at them from behind Logan. They got in their van and took off. We never saw them again.

  Joe shook Logan’s hand after they’d left. “Definitely a man. I wouldn’t mess with you.”

  Logan’s jaw tightened, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Nostrils flared. “I’m a warrior for my family.”

  “You’re damn right you are, Nephew.” Joe turned to me.

  Janet pulled her car around and drove up to us. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Cora Chapman

  I WOKE UP IN A hospital bed. My memory was a dense fog.

  Machines buzzed and beeped all around me and my lungs were on fire. My throat was dry and raspy. All I could remember were bright lights and crashing and water—then darkness.

  A nurse walked in. “Oh, good. You’re up.”

  “What happened?”

  My husky voice must’ve told her I needed water. I sounded like I’d chain-smoked a carton of cigarettes. She walked over with a big Styrofoam cup with a bent straw that sprouted from the top.

  The nurse lowered it so I could take a drink.

  “You were in a car accident. You nearly drowned.”

  Some of it resonated. I remembered panicking. It all came to me slowly. “Landon.” It wasn’t a question. His name just came out of my mouth without even thinking.

  “He saved your life. Him and his brother. He’s out in the waiting room with your family.”

  My eyes widened and panic filled me.

  “He not supposed to meet your family?”

  I shook my head. “Not good.”

  She leaned over as if she wanted to set me at ease. “It looked like they were getting along when I walked by earlier.”

  “Can he come in?”

  “Let me go check with the doctor and tell him you’re awake.”

  ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER A man in a white lab coat walked through the door. Landon followed, towering over him.

  The doctor kept talking, but all I could see was the look on Landon’s face. His jaw was tight and his cheeks were flushed with pink. He relaxed when he saw me.

  I held out a hand for him. He took a giant stride and smothered my palm with his while the doctor checked me over. I had to be on some kind of pain medication because my thoughts were jumbled and I didn’t feel much.

  “Ms. Chapman, everything seems fine in our pulmonary function tests. Neural systems are all fine too. No damage. You were incredibly lucky. We’re going to get your arm casted up and then I think you can probably go home soon. We gave you something for pain, but I’ll write you a prescription for more when you leave. You’ll need physical therapy for the arm. We can get that set up for you up front when you’re discharged.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” I glanced to Landon then back to him. His words took a second to sink in. “My arm is broken?”

  “Yes. Fractured humerus. Compound. Pretty nasty break overall, but fortunately it was clean. Probably on impact from the initial roll.”

  “My car rolled over?”

  “It rolled twice. Once during the wreck.” He glanced at Landon. “And, umm, once after.”

  I gripped Landon’s hand tighter. So hard I could see the whites in my knuckles. I just wanted him, alone in the room.

  The doctor and nurse finally left, and Landon slid a chair up next to my bed. He stared at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “Don’t do that.” I shook my head. “You warned me it was going to get bad. I was going to come right back. I promise.” I stared up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have left at all, though. Should’ve gone for a walk or something.”

  “Don’t you blame yourself. If you’d gone for a walk coyotes could’ve gotten you in the field. Bad luck can happen anytime. We can’t control it.” He smoothed down some of my hair.

  I didn’t think it needed it, he just wanted to touch me. I wanted to curl up in his arms.

  Landon stared off at the wall. “Reporters.” His hand tightened on mine.

  “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

  He turned back and grinned. “No, but I thought Logan was going to.”

  “Oh my gosh, what did he do?”

  “Acted like a man. Defended his family.”

  I smiled and then winced in pain.

  Landon jumped to his feet. “You okay? You need anything?”

  I motioned him toward my face with my index finger. When he was within reach I put a palm on his cheek. “Just you. And Logan. And Janet.” I paused and faked a glare out at the hallway. “And Joe.”

  Landon leaned over and kissed me. I tried to roll away. I
’d probably chugged a gallon of filthy water. My breath had to be rank. Landon didn’t care. He kissed me anyway.

  “Your parents are here.”

  “I heard. I wonder how they found out.”

  “I called them. When we got here.”

  “What? Why?”

  Landon frowned. “You almost died. They’re your parents. They needed to know.”

  “I know. You’re right. I guess you should send them in.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. They’re really worried.”

  “God, you talked to them?”

  “Of course I did. I’m in love with their daughter.” He dropped another kiss on my forehead.

  Landon left, and my parents walked in. Dad was a rock. Unreadable. It meant he was worried. Mom’s face was pink, and her eyes were a little welled up at the corners. We said our “I’m sorrys” and all that good stuff. It would probably only last a week, but I’d take it. It was a vicious cycle, but it was our vicious cycle.

  “So, what happened? I still don’t really know.”

  Dad straightened up. “They didn’t tell you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Some reporters chased you in a van. Landon said they were trying to take pictures and practically ran you off the road. The car flipped. It landed in an irrigation ditch. That was all Landon said, but we talked to the officers and firemen who were there. They said it slid down into the middle of it. The water filled up the car and you were totally submerged and drowning. Landon and his brother turned the car right-side up in the middle of the creek bed. Officer said it had to weigh thousands of pounds with all the water. They’d never seen anything like it, ever. Like it was something out of a comic book with superheroes. You were under for a while, with a broken arm. Landon pulled you out. Gave you CPR in the middle of the road. You didn’t respond. Everyone thought you were dead. Then out of nowhere you came back to life.”

  “Oh my God.” I shook my head. Landon had downplayed all of it, like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Cora.” Mom approached cautiously. I held my hand out to let her know it was okay. After our last spat, I’d decided she wouldn’t change and we’d just have to embrace our differences.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know—”