by R. D. Brady
Finally, Micah spoke. “Steve got me out of a tree.”
Declan looked at Micah, not sure he’d heard him right. “What was that?”
The words burst out of Micah’s mouth. “Darrell and Zeke said I was too small to climb the big tree by Roy’s house. So I climbed it, but I wanted to do it when no one was looking. So I did. I made it all the way up. But then I couldn’t get down. Steve climbed up and got me down. He promised not to tell anybody. And he said I did climb the tree. And I did. I just didn’t climb down. So it’s okay to say I climbed it, right?”
Declan’s mind whirled, trying to keep up with the boy. “So you climbed the tree. Why was that a secret?”
Micah looked exasperated. “Because I didn’t climb down, only up. I didn’t want anyone to know.” He looked at Declan expectantly.
Declan struggled not to laugh—all this because Steve had rescued a kid from a tree.
“So, you won’t tell anybody, will you?” Micah asked.
Declan went to nod his head, but caught himself. “Well, I have to tell the chief, but that’s it. Okay?”
Micah seemed to consider this for a moment. “Okay. But make sure he doesn’t tell anyone, all right?”
“You got it.” Declan stood up. “Come on. Let’s go get your mom and uncle.”
Micah hopped out of his chair, and the two of them walked down the hall. Declan struggled not to laugh out loud. A tree—all this because he climbed a tree.
CHAPTER 25
The shock of the cold water immobilized Steve for a moment. Then he righted himself, kicked for the surface, and broke through. Waves crashed down on him, pulling him away from the car. He started to swim toward the SUV, which had landed right side up. It hadn’t sunk all the way yet. Steve fought the waves to reach it, but they kept tossing him back.
Taking a deep breath, he dove underwater, hoping swimming under the water would be easier. It was. He had to surface once more, but on his second dive he reached the car. The water had now almost reached the roof.
Steve dove under again. His hand found the door handle. He yanked, but the door didn’t budge. Locked, or maybe just stuck. He remembered once hearing something about not being able to open a car door underwater—water pressure or something. You were supposed to roll down the window. He banged on the glass, but it was too dark to see anything, to communicate with the driver.
He swam back to the surface and gasped for breath. The water was dribbling over the roof now. The car was going under.
Then Steve spotted it: a sunroof. It was closed, but a jagged crack ran across the glass. If he had something to break it with…
He remembered the pocketknife, still in his jeans pocket from this morning. Thank you, Jack.
Steve climbed onto the roof. Fishing his knife from his pocket, he slammed the hilt of the knife into the glass. It spider webbed. He hit it again. And again. It fragmented. He kicked the glass through, and a thin stream of water began pouring through the opening.
Steve lowered himself in, crouching on the divider. The driver was unconscious. She was in her early thirties, with dark hair. He unbuckled her seatbelt, then pulled her toward the opening.
Standing on the divider between the seats, he got her shoulders out. Water was now gushing through the opening, trying to press them both back inside the car.
“Give her here!”
Russ Nash appeared in the water next to the car, a rope attached to his belt. He was ten years older than the high school friend Steve had once known, and he was wearing a policeman’s uniform, yet Steve recognized him instantly. But he didn’t have time to think about what Russ Nash, of all people, was doing here next to a sinking SUV. He just dragged the woman out through the sunroof and pushed her toward him.
Then he ducked back inside the SUV.
“Where are you going?” Russ yelled.
Steve didn’t answer. He slid between the front seats into the back. The little girl’s large eyes stared at him. She looked to be only about one, and shock seemed to have taken her voice. The water level was already up to her neck, and it was rising rapidly.
Steve took a breath and ducked under the water. He fumbled with the unfamiliar buckle, but managed to undo it. He knew the girl was underwater now. Does a baby know how to hold her breath? He tried to pull the baby out before realizing there was another buckle. Goddamn car seat.
He released the second buckle and grabbed the girl by the arm. He rose to gasp for air, only to find that that there was no air; the car was now completely full of water. Holding the girl tightly to his chest with one hand, he grabbed the edge of the sunroof with the other and pulled them both out.
He swam upward with only one arm, kicking furiously for the surface, but he felt like he was standing still. Spots began to dance in front of his eyes. He wasn’t going to make it. He held the girl tighter, willing himself to find the strength. He kicked harder, stretched farther.
An arm wrapped around his waist from the right, another from the left. Together they pulled, and a few seconds later, he burst through the surface of the water.
He pushed the little girl toward Russ. “Oxygen. She needs oxygen,” he panted.
Russ pulled her to his chest, holding her on her back and breathing into her mouth.
Carlos, Steve’s sandbag friend, was treading water on Steve’s other side, keeping an arm on him. “It’ll be okay, man.”
Steve nodded, not questioning where the little man had appeared from, just thankful he’d arrived. Right now all his attention was focused on the little girl. She wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing.
Come on. Come on, Steve silently begged while treading water.
Finally, the little girl moved her arm, coughed up a lungful of water, and let out a cry.
Steve let out a breath, realizing he’d been holding his own while waiting for the little girl to catch hers.
Russ grinned at him. “She’s okay.”
Steve smiled. Thank God.
CHAPTER 26
Steve sat under the awning of the bait and tackle shop watching the girl and her mother get loaded into a squad car. They couldn’t go to the hospital because of the bridge, but an officer was going to take them over to the elementary school to get checked out.
Carlos had already headed home to dry off, but before he left, he’d shaken Steve’s hand. “Good thing you were here today. The rest of us weren’t close enough. They wouldn’t have made it without you.”
Steve hadn’t known what to say to that.
Now Russ walked over to Steve, holding out a steaming cup. Steve took it and took a sip. He looked up, surprised. “Hot cocoa?”
Russ shrugged. “I’m not a coffee fan.”
“Thanks.”
Steve took another sip of cocoa. He glanced up at Russ. They had been friends in high school—not best friends, but they’d hung out a lot. It was weird seeing him now: the cop and the ex-con. But Russ didn’t treat him like the ex-con, and Steve appreciated that.
Of course, Russ was the only one who didn’t treat him like a murderer. Steve had given his statement to another deputy who’d managed to be as antagonistic as possible. Not that Steve thought he deserved a medal, but would decency have been a stretch? Now he was just waiting for the big man.
As if on cue, Keith’s Jeep pulled into the parking lot, its lights swirling. Keith got out of the car, a giant yellow slicker covering him. He spoke with an officer before stomping toward Steve and Russ.
“Why do I think he’s not coming over here to say ‘good job’?” Steve mumbled.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a small smile cross Russ’s face.
Keith came to a stop in front of Steve, rain running in rivulets down his coat. “Kane, what the hell have you been up to?”
Steve wiped his hand over his face before looking up at Keith. “And how exactly do you figure I’m to blame for this?”
Keith stared at him. “Just get out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” He gave a sloppy salute b
efore handing the mug back to Russ. “Thanks.”
Russ nodded. Steve wondered why exactly he’d had to wait around for that, but he kept his mouth shut in case Keith decided to change his mind. And Steve was not in the mood to deal with that. He got that everybody hated him. But when he actually saved a life, would it kill any of them to not be complete assholes?
He yanked his poncho back over his head. Carlos had returned it to him; apparently someone had retrieved it. But he questioned why he was bothering to wear it now; after all, he was already soaked from head to foot.
Just as he stepped out into the rain once again, a groan of metal, louder than any he’d heard so far, cut through the air. His head whipped back toward the bridge.
The old bridge shuddered. The front dipped with another screech of metal; the middle bowed. A suspension cable snapped. Then another. People ran from the water’s edge.
The front of the bridge tore away from its perch, diving down into the water below. The rest buckled and then collapsed down on itself. And just like that, the bridge was gone.
With a giant rush, a twenty-foot wave crashed down on the shore and sped toward the gathered bystanders. Steve grabbed on to the light post next to him, climbing up on its base as the water raced toward him. He held on tightly as the water hit the light post, then rushed back toward the ocean.
A gray-haired woman screamed from behind him. The water had knocked her off her feet and was now pulling her forward. Steve crouched low and managed to snag the back of her jacket as she went by. “I’ve got you. Hold on.”
The woman reached up and grabbed Steve’s hand. He held on until the pull of the water stopped.
“Try to put your feet down,” Steve said.
The woman was shaking, but she did. Steve climbed down and stood next to her, keeping his arm around her waist. She was shaking so hard he didn’t think she’d be able to stand on her own.
“Thank you, thank you,” she mumbled over and over again.
“It’s all right. You’re fine,” Steve assured her.
She held on to him as if her life depended upon it.
“Mom!” A man with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair ran over and pulled the older woman to his chest. Steve recognized him. It was Mr. Collins—his old math teacher.
“Thank you so much…” Mr. Collins looked up and blanched. “… Steve.”
Steve nodded, his mood darkening a little. He released Mr. Collins’s mother and turned away. He didn’t want to wait to see if Mr. Collins had anything else to say.
From the corner of his eye, he saw people getting to their feet. As they stood, they stared in shock at the destroyed bridge. But Steve just turned away from it. The bridge was a town problem—and obviously he wasn’t a member of this town.
As he walked away, he remembered his plan to get back in people’s good graces by saving every member of the town from a tree. Then he shook his head as he pictured Mr. Collins’s face after realizing who had saved his mother.
Apparently not even heroic deeds were going to be enough to change some people’s minds about him.
CHAPTER 27
It took Steve double the time it normally took to get home. The wind and rain seemed to conspire to always be pushing against him. When he reached his Gran’s porch, he felt exhausted. And he couldn’t believe everything that had just happened. It seemed… unreal.
The lights were on inside, and he could picture his grandmother bustling about. At the door, he slipped off his socks, shoes, and poncho. He left them outside on the porch and stepped inside quietly. If all went well, he’d grab a shower before she caught sight of him.
“Steve, is that you?”
He’d forgotten about his grandmother’s superpower: enhanced hearing. He debated for minute whether to just yell that he was heading up for a shower, but he knew she’d worry. So with a resigned sigh, he headed toward the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s me.”
His grandmother was at the sink, washing dishes, her back to him. “I made meatballs. I thought we could have spaghetti.” She turned the water off, grabbing a towel and turning. “How does that—”
She let out a little shriek and ran across the kitchen. “What happened?”
“It’s raining, that’s all.”
His grandmother reached out and held up his arm to examine it. A gash extended from his wrist to his elbow. He’d been so cold, he hadn’t even noticed it—hadn’t felt it.
“It’s nothing, Gran. Just a cut from work.”
His grandmother raised one eyebrow.
Steve pulled his arm back. “Really, I’m fine.”
Placing one hand on either side of his face, she studied him. When he was little, he’d thought she was psychic whenever she did this. She always knew his mood.
He pictured Mrs. Collins’s mother, and he imagined what might have happened if he hadn’t been there. She and his grandmother were about the same age.
He placed his hands over his grandmother’s cheeks, wondering what he would ever do without her. Tenderness filled him. “I’m okay. Really. Just cold.”
She fixed him with her gaze for another moment before letting him go. “All right. There are clean towels in the linen closet. Make sure you clean that cut. Now shoo.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and headed up the stairs.
The cordless phone rang just as he passed it. I thought we unplugged that thing, he thought as he backtracked to answer it.
Steve put a little edge in his voice when he answered. “Hello?”
“Steve. It’s Declan. Are you okay?”
Steve glanced toward the kitchen. His grandmother stood in the doorway, her expression concerned. “It’s just Declan,” he said.
She nodded and headed back in, but Steve hated the worry he was causing her. He jogged up the stairs, taking them two at a time with phone in hand. “Hey, Declan. Yeah. I’m okay.”
Declan let out a laugh. “Russ told me what happened. I’m so damned proud of you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Hey. The people of this town should know you saved that woman and kid. They seem to think they know who you are. Maybe this will give them pause.”
Once again Steve saw Mr. Collins’s face. “Yeah. I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. Everybody else all right?”
“Yes. Luckily no one was pulled out when the bridge collapsed. It’s a damned miracle.”
“Guess it’s a good thing you closed it.”
“Guess it is.”
“Look, I’m freezing. I’ve got to go grab a shower.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I need to go help out anyway. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I am. And thanks, Declan.” Steve disconnected the call and placed the phone on the table in the hall with a smile.
In the bathroom, he stripped off his wet clothes and turned the water as hot as it would go before stepping into the shower. Pinpricks of pain danced along his skin as the scalding water came in contact with his skin. But after a minute, the heat seeped through the cold.
Steve examined the cut on his arm and realized it was a pretty bad one, deeper than he had first thought, but he didn’t think it would require stitches. And at least it had stopped bleeding.
Resting his hands against the wall and letting the water roll over him, he mentally replayed the last two hours. He’d saved three people’s lives, and someone had even called him a hero. Wendy the waitress hated him, and Mr. Collins was disgusted by him. But even with the whole town hating him, compared to his usual day in prison, this day was actually turning out pretty good.
CHAPTER 28
He drove through the town, watching everyone scurry around in the rain. He’d already driven past where the bridge used to be. Everyone was now stranded here in Millners Kill. Oh God, this is just too good.
He stopped at the light. Skip Hughes, a friend from high school, crossed in front of him. Skip waved, recognizing the car. He waved back. Skip’s two little girls flitted along next to him
in their colorful raincoats.
Skip had been a member of student council and on the football team. They’d spent almost all summer together after both junior and senior year. But it had been harder to stay in touch as time marched on.
He watched the trio cross the street. The girls were six and seven. Skip put a ton of pictures of them on Facebook. The proud papa.
Skip let go of the girls’ hands as they reached the sidewalk. They skipped ahead of him, laughing, their matching brown curls blown around by the wind.
He imagined walking up behind Skip, slipping his knife through the vertebrae in his lower back, then shoving his knife into Skip’s neck as the girls’ smiles turned to screams of horror.
Skip turned and waved once more.
The man smiled, returning the wave. Good to see you too, Skip.
He continued through the town. Few people were out, and there was little traffic. Not that in Millners Kill there was ever much traffic.
He passed out of the town proper just a few minutes later. He hummed along with the radio as he wound his way to the far side of the island. He pulled into a parking spot at the deserted beach. The waves crashed with violence on the shore.
He smiled, feeling the excitement in the air.
He got out of the car. He glanced around. Not a soul.
Rain whipped around him. He bent his head back to let it wash over his face. It was invigorating.
He hit the trunk release on his key fob, walked around to the rear of the car, and smiled down into Elise Ingram’s pale face. Her empty eyes stared up at him.
“Oh don’t be like that,” he said, pulling on his plastic gloves. “You should be honored.”
Plastic lined the trunk to keep any blood from spilling into the car. He wrapped the plastic around her before pulling her into a sitting position. Her head lolled to the side, and he pushed her blond hair back and kissed her on the forehead.
“In fact, you should be flattered. You are the first move in my little game.”
