by Julie Solano
“Thanks Brody. I guess I’m still a little jumpy about, well, you know. I know you’re here to protect me. Let’s take our time picking out that tree.”
Within an hour, we are pulling a gorgeous Silver Tip down to the truck. As we make our descent, something feels off. When we get closer to the gang, everyone is frantic. They are shaking their heads in disbelief. They’ve just returned from the hunt with their trees too. As we approach the trucks, we see the windows have been smashed out of Caden’s truck and our stuff is strewn all over the ground. “Oh no!” I whimper.
“What is it?” Brody asks.
“I left the rifle under Caden’s seat so Mom wouldn’t see me take it. Please tell me it’s still there!” I cross my fingers and say a silent prayer that the gun has not been stolen.
Brody bends down and drags his hand along the floorboard as he searches for the gun.
My face goes pale, and the blood rushes from my body, when he pops back up from under the seat, shaking his head, “It’s gone.” From its place, Brody pulls out an empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
He shakes it in the air, “Son of a Bitch!” he shouts, as he throws it to the ground. “Load up! We have to get out of here. Caden, are you okay to drive your truck like that?”
“Ya, I can make it Dude. It’s freezing out there; try to fit as many people into Dad’s truck as you can. Brody walks to my brother, leans in close, and whispers something. The look on Caden’s face tells me there’s more to this than someone sabotaging Caden’s truck. Caden yells, “Hurry Guys! The storm is getting worse. We need to get out of here!”
We throw the trees into the back of our truck. Jenna, Brody, and I squish into the front seat, while Mason and Marissa get into the back. They scoot over to make room for Peyton. Caden tries to help her in, but she’s hell bent on going with him. “I’m not letting you go alone Babe. I can handle the cold. I’ve got you to keep me warm,” Peyton grabs onto Caden, pleading with him to take her.
“Babe, you know it’s gonna be one helluva ride, right?”
“I don’t care. I want to go with you. I don’t want you driving alone. I won’t feel safe if we’re in different trucks.”
“Alright. Come with me.” Caden finally gives in. “But you’re wearing my Carhartt jacket.”
Brody pulls up next to Caden and rolls down the window. “Caden, we need to stick together. Don’t lose sight of our truck!”
“You’ve got it Dude.”
As we take off in the howling wind, I feel sorry for my brother and Peyton traveling in the bitter cold with no windows. Brody acts strange, almost shaken. He is silent, and looks intently forward with his arms held straight out from the steering wheel. His white knuckles grip so tightly that the pressure nearly has his bones piercing through his skin. “Brody, what are you not telling me?” I ask him with a shaky voice. He shakes his head slightly but doesn’t answer. “Brody, are we in more trouble than I think, here? Answer me!” I raise my voice frustrated from his lack of response. “Please tell me we aren’t going to keep secrets from each other after everything we’ve been through. I need to know what we’re up against. Please talk to me, Bro.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, Pip, but that Jack Daniels . . . That’s the same shit I found by your car the night you were attacked after Championships. That’s the same shit I found out in the barn after you were attacked at the barn dance. Kaitlyn, it’s Pistol! I’ll be damned if those weren’t his footprints you fell into. This is a game to him. He’s hunting you!”
Shaking uncontrollably I grab onto Brody’s shirt, “Bro, I’m really scared! Pistol doesn’t react like a normal person when he’s been drinking Jack. He’s a violent drunk. We aren’t safe. You know that, don’t you? We can’t hide anywhere. He’s going to find us. Can’t we go faster?”
“Pip, I wish I could say yes . . . but I have to stay in four wheel drive and we’re already in high gear. It’s really slick. Besides, if we speed up, we could run Caden off the road. He’s having a tough enough time without the windows.”
As the fear and panic build in me, tears begin to stream down my face, and my shaking intensifies. Jenna’s hand comes up over the back of the seat and she rests it on my shoulder. “We’re going to be okay.”
Just as those words leave Jenna’s mouth, I see Caden begin to fish tale in front of us. “What’s going on? Look at Caden!” I point and yell. I can’t see more than ten feet in front of us, but my heart jumps out of my chest when I process the narrowness of the road versus the width of Caden’s swerving.
“Oh Lord NO!” Brody screams. I hear a popping sound “Duck Pip!”
Screech.
“Are those gun shots?” I stutter.
“God No! He’s headed straight for Caden.”
I hold onto the dashboard, and peek over it just enough to see Pistol’s oncoming truck ready to collide with my brother. I’d recognize that truck anywhere. Brody pulls his foot from the gas to avoid running into the back of Caden’s slowing truck. I can hear Brody yelling at me to get down, but I’m frozen. I can’t even scream. My blood runs cold as I hear the shots and watch Caden spin toward the embankment. As he spins out of control, he wraps into the side of Pistol’s truck, pulling him over the embankment with him.
“NO!!!!” I shriek, as I hear the crashing and crunching of metal. I cover my ears to block out the piercing sounds coming up from the canyon.
Brody slides to a stop. I can’t process it all. I hear screaming, more crunching, and then the blackness begins to overtake me. For a moment, I am in a dark tunnel. There is no sound but that newly familiar buzzing that fills my ears. I feel weightless, like I’m in a dream. My face is cold. Really. Really. Cold. My cheek is pressed up against something hard. As I focus on my freezing face, the buzzing begins to fade away. My ears tune into a new sound of panic.
“Help Pip, Help!” I feel Brody shaking me. “I need you Pip! Wake! Up!”
When I open my eyes, I see Brody’s tear stained face. He’s gasping for air. “You’ve got to come with me Pip. They’re down there.” He reaches out for my hand. “I found Caden. He needs you. You’re a lifeguard Pip . . . you know CPR and first aid. Quick Pip Quick. I can’t do this alone! I need you to be strong! Caden needs you to be strong!”
I’m out of my mind with fear, and still struggling with the dizziness from my fainting spell. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t even focus. The fear in Brody’s voice is pulling me back in. It’s then that I realize. My. Brother. Just. Flew. Over. A. Cliff!
I’m trying to catch my breath. It hurts to pull in air. My hands are trembling as I try to gather my strength. I know time is working against us. I grab Brody’s hand and let him pull me to my feet.
I’m terrified to look over the side of the hill. I know that I will never be able to unsee what I’m about to witness. I take in a deep breath, and ask God to help me, and then I dare to look down. The first thing I see is Jenna and Marissa, hunched over a large rock at the bottom of the ravine near the river. Off to the side, sitting in the river, is Caden’s truck. The cab is crunched in, and the water flows all around it. It is submerged in water, with only about six inches sitting above the surface. My friends are peering in at the truck screaming for us to get down there. Mason is standing in the river hunched over, calling up for Brody.
Mason’s panicked voice echoes up the canyon, “I can’t do it Dude! I can’t get the door open. I can’t get my footing and I’m not strong enough! Get down here Brody! Hurry!”
Brody grabs my hand tightly. “Kaitlyn, don’t let go of me! We have to hurry down that hill. Be careful, the snow is pretty deep in some places. Follow the path Mason made.”
We bound down the hill as fast as we can, staying on the path. I stumble a few times from fatigue, but Brody pulls me right up and we keep going. I’m sweating and out of breath when we reach the riverbank. Mason is shivering and shaking as he tries to reach into the cab of the truck through the window. “Hold on Peyton, hold on . . . try to keep your hea
d up.” I hear him shivering.
Caden is lying on the riverbank shrieking, in pain. Every few seconds he grunts, “Help her! Help Peyton!”
I gasp when I see his condition. He looks blue, and his face is covered in blood. His pants are torn and bloody. Someone has tied a tourniquet around his arm. I’m horrified when I instantly recognize he has a compound fracture. Jenna is trying to place pressure on his wound to stop the bleeding. As I get closer, I hear his labored breathing. It’s raspy and crackling. I’m terrified as I kneel beside him.
“Caden, hang in there brother. I love you. I’m going to try to help Peyton.”
“Please Kait . . . go now. It’s really bad.” He cringes and holds his breath, then let’s out an agonizing shriek.
We need more help. I’m starting to panic. “Has anyone tried their cell phone?!?” I scream.
“I tried, but there’s no service!” Marissa cries.
“Run to the top of the hill and try again! Sometimes you can get service if you’re high in a clearing!”
Quickly, Marissa starts running up the hill. She yells over her shoulder, “If I’m not back right away, I’m finding help. Please God! Get Peyton out of that truck!”
I run toward the river where Brody has joined Mason. They’re taking turns trying to pry the door open. “It’s so damn cold, my hands won’t work! Son of a Bitch!” Brody screams.
I lose my breath as I step into the icy river for the first time. The freezing water severely constrains my movement; I slowly wade in up to my hips and scream at myself to get out there faster. “Move Kaitlyn! Move!” I cry. I lean forward and dig at the water with my arms to push myself closer to Peyton. When I finally reach the truck, I grab onto the doorframe and steady myself in the current. “The cab is crushed. You’re the only one small enough to fit in there Kaitlyn. See if you can get to her. We need to see what’s holding her in there!” Mason yells.
Brody shakes his head, “Mason, it’s too dangerous! What if she gets stuck. I won’t risk Pip!”
“Brody, I have to try to save her. I’m going down there. Don’t stop me.” I take a deep breath, and pull myself in through the window. The shock of putting my head under, rips at my skin and punches me in the stomach. I almost lose my breath as I shiver beneath the frigid water, but work to pull myself into the crunched cab. When I feel the seat beneath my hand, I open my eyes. I look in, and spot Peyton. Her face is up against the roof of the truck. She’s found a small pocket of air at the top of the cab. She bangs desperately at the passenger door as the water continues to rage around her face. When I can hold my breath no longer, I reluctantly claw back up to the surface.
I gasp desperately, and screech to the boys, “She has a little air. Not much, but some.” I wheeze for breath. “I’m worried about the water temperature. She can’t be down there much longer!” Choking and spitting, I pull in another breath and dive down again. Already knowing my way, I get in more quickly this time. I hunch down, and pull myself closer to Peyton, opening my eyes to see that she’s still locked securely in her seat belt. I pull wildly at the clasp, trying to unfasten it from her waist. It won’t budge. The air pocket gets smaller, as a sudden bobbling movement shifts the truck beneath me. I hear a small moan, “Kaitlyn, help.” Peyton’s cry is strained and barely audible. The movement startles me, and I reflexively give a swift kick, hitting the gear shift with tremendous force.
A split second later, a hand shoots down through the window and clamps onto my shirt. I hear Brody’s garbled voice permeating the surface of the water. “It’s gonna go!”
As I feel myself being pulled back through the open window, I try to reach for Peyton, but she’s just too far away. The truck begins to slip from beneath me. The strong tow of the sinking truck, tugs at my legs, while Brody pulls me back to the surface. With a terrifying wheeze, I pull oxygen into my parched lungs.
Screams pierce the air around me. I stand shivering in the water, looking on in horror. I’m caught in the middle of a horrific nightmare. Before my eyes, I watch Caden’s submerged truck bob down the raging river. Cries and screams continue to wail out around me.
“Oh my God!” Jenna screams.
“No!” I hear Mason, cry.
Along with the terror of Peyton being swept away with the truck, something more is wrong. I don’t hear my brother’s voice among the screams. When I whip my head around to check on him, I see Caden, motionless on the snowy sand. Jenna is bent over him crying, and patting his face. “Wake up Caden, wake up!” she sobs.
Brody, Mason, and I drag ourselves out of the water and fall to our knees before him. With the vision that lies in front of me, I shake uncontrollably. A thousand fears shove my face to the ground, and anchor me in place. I shake violently, huddled in a ball. I pull my arms around my head and hold on tightly, rocking back and forth, trying to escape the nightmare. An ear piercing, unfamiliar growl escapes my searing throat.
“Not him too!” I cry hysterically.
Peyton is gone. My brother is unresponsive. My friends wail in horror around me. Frozen and drowning in the pain of this Jefferson fall, my heart breaks.
To Be Continued . . .
Coming in 2015
The Seasons of Jefferson Series
Book 2: The Dead of Winter
A Message from the Authors
Being a teen is one of the most difficult times in a person’s life. There are a couple of commonly faced issues that we wanted to address when we were writing this book. The first issue is underage drinking and substance use. We hope it was clear, that underage drinking is never a good idea. Drinking in any situation clouds a person’s judgement, leads one to take risks that they wouldn’t normally take, and causes great obstacles for getting out of those dangerous situations. Readers, here is a great example from the story. Had Kaitlyn not been drinking, would she have ever entered that tack room alone at night? Also, think about when Pistol attacked her. Was he sober?
If you know of a young person who needs help, The Pathway Program is available. You can call Toll Free at 1–877–921–4050 or visit them on the web at www.thepathwayprogram.com. If you are a teen and find yourself struggling with drinking or substance abuse, please reach out to a parent, school counselor, teacher, youth pastor, or friend. As teachers, we are always open to help our students get the help they need. It doesn’t matter if you were a former student, current student, or didn’t even have us as a teacher. We care about all of you!
A second issue that many teens and young adults struggle with is domestic violence. This can happen to people of any race, age, sexual orientation, religion, or gender. Sometimes it starts out subtly, and intensifies without the victim realizing how bad it has become. If friends are warning you that they see signs of control, verbal, or physical abuse, please listen. Many abusers are masters at manipulating their victims and making them feel like THEY are the reason for the incident. It’s NEVER okay. It is NOT your fault. If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, there is confidential support out there 24/7. Please visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline at http://www.thehotline.org. Teens can go to www.loveisrespect.org, or call 1–866–331–9474 to speak with someone privately. It’s a confidential online resource available to help young adults prevent and end abusive relationships.
“Cruise” by Florida Georgia Line
“You Know I’m Here for the Party” by Gretchin Wilson
“Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO
“Can’t be Tamed” by Miley Cirus
“Really Don’t Care” by Demi Lovato
“Pop, Lock, and Drop It” by Huey
“My Eyes” by Blake Shelton
“Country Girl Shake it For Me” by Luke Bryan
“When You Say Nothing at All” by Keith Whitley
“Drink to That All Night” by Jerrod Niemann
“When Fall Breaks” by Julie Solano
Ancient Chinese legend tells us that there is an invisible red thread that connects two people together, that are
destined to meet regardless of time, place, or circumstance. Those people meet either to help each other in a certain situation or in some way. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. If there’s a thread of friendship, we’ve certainly been blessed with it. After a series of near misses over a several year span, we finally met as teachers in a middle school in far Northern California nearly two decades ago. Since that time, there has been a common fascination that has kept our friendship entertaining and adventurous. Along with our fabulous personalities, it was our love of good books. Late night phone calls, big city adventures, and even color runs, were often fueled with character analysis, plot deviations, and talks of what would make a great story.
Inspired by our love of literature and our fascination with the people who create it, we began reaching out to some authors whose books made a huge impression on us. One of those incredible authors decided she’d “let us win” a trip to the Indie Girl CON in South Carolina in February of 2013. That trip provided us with many fulfilled bucket list items, like meeting our favorite Indie author and spending time with several others at late night clubs, almost being kidnapped by a crazed taxi driver, missing a flight out of Chicago O’Hare, and running through the streets of Chicago singing the theme song to Laverne and Shirley. We had so much fun in this new author world, that we decided the next time we would attend an author convention, it would be to fulfill our newest bucket list item. We’d already had scenes written and scattered haphazardly throughout our computers, but used them solely as therapy, with no thought to turning them into a novel. However, all that changed when we got back from Indie Girl CON. Encouraged by several authors who took us under their wings and became our friends, we decided to take the leap and begin writing a novel of our own.
So here we are. Nearly a year later, our first novel is finished, and we’re ready to thank those who were instrumental in making that happen. First and foremost, Alison G. Bailey, our BAFF (Best Author Friend Forever), this novel would not have happened if we’d never met you. You’re the one who pulled us into this Tweet world with those tickets last February. Your kindness and kick butt personality made us want to dive into this author gig. Thank you for your willingness to overlook our nutty personalities and for not hiring security guards to haul us off before we got our signed paperbacks of Present Perfect. To Riley Mackenzie, thank you for filling us in on the perks of writing a novel together. It was basically the most fun thing we’ve ever done in our lives.
