by P. G. Forte
Lucy rolled her eyes heavenward. Careful. Right. Like she was the one with the problem here? “I’m always careful. And, for God’s sake, don’t worry, huh? This could just be false labor, you know. In fact, it probably is. It’ll probably stop on its own – before we even get there, maybe.”
“You really think so?” Scout asked, hopefully.
No, Lucy thought, quickly stuffing the packages of herbs into a plastic bag, not at this stage of the game, I don’t. But she knew Scout would cling to any hope she tossed her way.“Absolutely. And... you know, even if it’s not, we’ve still got plenty of time. I mean, first babies always take hours to come, right? Days even, sometimes.”
Unless it was her firstborn, of course. Thinking about that, Lucy couldn’t help feeling smug. Giving birth to Seth had been a walk in the park. Almost literally. That’s what they’d been doing when her water broke, and they’d barely made it to the hospital in time.
“Just don’t worry,” Lucy said again. “And look, while you’re waiting, why don’t you go run yourself a bath. The warm water will help you relax.” With any luck, it would also make Scout think the contractions had stopped, and that would relax her even more – at least until she tried to get out of the tub.
Lucy tossed her phone into the bag with the herbs and pulling her hood up over her head, she ran from the shed. The rain pelted down icy cold and needle sharp. By the time she’d made it to the parking lot, her clothes were soaked clear through to her skin. She pulled open the door of Dan’s Explorer and jumped inside.
Shit. Dan. Lucy paused, rain still dripping from the brim of her hood, and glanced back towards the buildings. He didn’t know about this. She should at least tell him where she was going. But time was precious, she’d waste too much of it if she tried to find him now. And then, she’d waste even more time arguing with him when he tried to talk her out of going.
She stuck the key in the ignition, ignoring the sudden pang of regret that struck her.
She would have liked the chance to say good-bye.
Sheesh. What was she thinking? It wasn’t like she was going away, or anything. She was just driving out to the coast, she’d call him when she got there. Or, maybe she’d wait until after she’d gotten everything under control. No point in making him worry any more than he already would.
He worried about too damn much, Lucy thought, glancing behind her as she backed out of the parking space. Just look at the way he’d overreacted last night – and all she’d done was walk the dog!
But then, Dan had always been one to worry himself sick over nothing at all. Or about stupid things – like the dog, or the bees, or her driving.
She put the car in drive and pressed down hard on the gas. The Explorer plowed through the mud. It was sweet of him to worry, she thought, reaching beneath the seat and grabbing a handful of tissues from the box she knew he always kept there. Sweet, but tiring. And completely unnecessary. She was an excellent driver, she reminded herself, swerving to avoid a pothole while she wiped the moisture from the windshield, and she knew just what she was doing.
She knew the risks that were involved, but they didn’t scare her. She could take care of herself. Didn’t she always?
And, like always, she knew that everything would turn out fine.
* * * *
Rain hammered against the SUV’s roof as Nick leaned his arms on the steering wheel and stared out at the muddy, brown water that raged through the canyon. In the time it had taken him to get to Sam and turn around again, the river had over flown its banks.
An unbroken expanse of water stretched in front of them now, blocking their way out and trapping them in the canyon. It was choppy and thick. Exactly the color and consistency of a chocolate milkshake.
The image surprised him, as did the rush of hunger it brought with it. This was a hell of a time to be thinking about food.
“What are our odds of our making it out of here now?” Sam asked.
Nick glanced across at his passenger and shrugged. “I dunno. Not too bad.” They were not too good, either, if he was going to be honest about it. But there was no reason Sam had to know that. Not yet, anyway.
“Really,” Sam muttered dryly, giving Nick the distinct impression that he wasn’t fooled for an instant.
Well, what had he wanted him to say, Nick wondered, as he shifted his gaze to stare out the window again. Did Sam really want to hear that all that water out there, thick with silt, might soon be what they’d be trying to breathe through?
Nick let his eyes wander over the landscape, searching for a way out of their predicament. Any way at all.
The canyon wall rose on their left; a bare, yellow rock embankment, too sheer to hold much vegetation, and also far too friable after months of rain, to even attempt to climb. One misstep and the ground would crumble away beneath them, like a doughnut dunked for too long into coffee. They’d be pitched headlong into the mud. Into the water. Into the churning brown mass that lay ahead, spread out like a lake in front of them.
Like a gigantic, lake-sized chocolate milkshake.
Nick shook his head. Shit. That was a hell of an image, all right. And now that he’d thought of it, he couldn’t get it out of his head. If he made it out of here, when he made it out of here, he’d have to get himself a milkshake—a big one, with whipped cream and a cherry. And maybe a hamburger, to go along with it.
There was a diner out on the coast, where he used to take Scout, back when they were first dating, when she was still in her teens. Usually, they’d both have burgers, and he’d order a beer to go with his, but she’d always order a milkshake.
He remembered the way she’d toy with the cherry, making him go crazy, without even knowing she was doing it. And he remembered kissing her afterwards. Even after all these years, he could still recall how the sweet tastes of chocolate and cherry had mingled in her mouth, and how his body ached to claim her.
He didn’t guess he’d ever know how he’d found the strength to resist doing just that. Just like he’d never stop wondering how things might have been different if he hadn’t.
Scout. She’d been so young, back then. Younger than he’d even known. Just a kid, really. And he’d always counted it a good thing that he’d had the sense to keep his distance. But they’d wasted so much time, because of it. And now—
Nick punched the steering wheel with his fist. Jesus, he had to figure some way out of this mess, and damn quick too! Because the water was rising with perilous swiftness. And there was no way he was going to lose everything now – not now, when he was this close to having it all.
He had to get them out of this canyon. But there were just a few problems with that plan.
His first problem, was that he had no idea how deep the water might be. With so many of the landmarks already submerged, there was nothing he could measure against, to get a sense of depth. He could measure the speed and strength of the current, however. And he could tell, from the trees, and debris, and the occasional animal that went sailing past, that he and Sam would never survive, if they ventured in too deep.
Still, there was a road that snaked through the canyon, and the chances were better than good that the water, where it crossed the road, would not be too deep, yet, for the 4X4 to handle.
If they kept to the road, they just might make it.
But that was his second problem, the road itself. It was narrow and winding and chock-full of switchbacks, bordered by sharp drop-offs. Staying on the road would not be easy. And if they veered from it at all, they’d be sunk within seconds.
The SUV would drop like a rock through all that muck and then, even if they did fight their way free of it, the odds of their making it to the surface were not good.
Veering from the road was not an option.
Which led Nick straight to problem number three. He couldn’t remember exactly where the road lay – other than somewhere beneath the frothy, chocolate colored waves.
He closed his eyes and tried to picture the ro
ad, but it wasn’t happening. He just didn’t get out here often enough.
But Sam did.
Nick glanced once more at the other man. Sam was staring out the window, his face set and grim.
As if sensing Nick’s gaze, Sam turned to face him. If he was nervous, it didn’t show. Those cool, gray eyes gave nothing away.
Nick studied him appraisingly. “How well do you think you remember this road,” he asked.
Sam’s voice was cool as well. Cool and level and dry. “I don’t know. Not too bad, I guess.”
Right. Nick nodded and looked once more through the windshield. He could feel his heart pound as adrenaline began to pour through his system. The dry, metallic taste made him long for a cigarette, but for once, he’d have to do without.
Not too bad, huh? Well, terrific, he thought as he shifted into gear. This was going to be some fun then. He turned once more to Sam, smiling as he did his best Dirty Harry. “So, Sam, let me ask you something. Do you feel lucky?”
* * * *
Marsha swallowed a shriek and clutched at the door handle as the Explorer shuddered around another curve in the narrow road. “Lucy, for God’s sake, slow down! You’re driving like a mad woman. Are you trying to get us killed?”
“Look, do you want to drive?” Lucy grumbled, shooting a quick frown in her direction. “I’m doing the best I can here. So just calm down.”
“I tell you what. You slow down, and then I’ll try calming down. How about we try that?”
Lucy blew out a deep, exasperated breath. “How about we don’t? I know you don’t like going fast, Marsha, and I’m real sorry about this. But we’ve got an emergency here, all right? Can’t you just, I don’t know, put yourself in a trance? Project yourself out of here? Something like that?”
“No. Not right now, I can’t,” Marsha said tightly as Lucy accelerated into the next turn. Right now, her soul was weighted down with too much fear to soar. Fear for Sam. Fear for Scout. And fear for herself and Lucy, as well. “And, you know, Luce, it’s not gonna do Scout one bit of good, if we never get there.”
Lucy’s jaw clenched tighter. “We’ll get there,” she promised, her face grim. “That’s my cousin’s kid she’s carrying. She is not gonna lose this baby. Not if I have anything to say about it. You just figure out some way to calm down. Maybe just close your eyes and relax. Take deep breaths.”
But Marsha couldn’t calm down. And she absolutely could not relax. And every time she closed her eyes, all she saw were visions of water, dark and impenetrable, rushing through the canyon where her cabin had stood, washing all her dreams away.
Life is a river. The phrase had been haunting her all morning. Life is a river, and the river’s got to flow.
And it’ll carry you away whether you want it to or not, Marsha thought sadly. You could either go with the flow, or you could try to fight it. You could try to hold on, to cling to what you knew.
But in the end, the river would always win.
It was useless trying to cling to... oh, anything, really. To ideas, or people, or dreams. They’d come and they’d go at the whim of the river. Regardless of your wishes.
But there was fear in letting go.
She should have let Sam stay the night, she thought with a sudden flash of insight, as regret, vain and useless, pierced her heart. Better yet, she should have let him move in with her, when he’d first broached the subject, back in November. Who did she think she was fooling, anyway?
And what had she hoped to gain, clinging to old fears, and someone else’s standards?
She’d wanted to set a good example for her kids? Well, since when was love a bad example?
Blinking back the tears she didn’t want Lucy to see, Marsha turned her head to look out the window. And froze.
The wind that buffeted the Explorer, and drove sheets of rain across their path, did not entirely obscure her vision, though, at the moment, she rather wished it did.
The road they were hurtling along curved, treacherous and thin, along a sheer rock wall, a hundred feet above the valley floor.
“Dear God, Lucy, where in the hell are we?” Marsha gasped, turning incredulous eyes to her friend. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
Lucy’s face was set and grim. “I’m taking a shortcut.”
“A shortcut? Through Domingo Canyon? Are you crazy?” So much for letting go of fear, Marsha thought as panic twisted in her gut, and her heart raced faster. Oh, God, they were gonna die. They were for sure gonna die.
“I know what I’m doing,” Lucy insisted. “Besides, I’m an excellent driver. Just stop talking and don’t distract me—I need to concentrate here.”
An excellent driver? “Luce,” Marsha began, and then clamped her mouth shut. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to point out to Lucy that almost no one, other than she herself, actually believed that. Because right now, Lucy’s blind faith in her own driving ability, and whatever luck was shining down upon them, was just about all they had to get them through this mess.
“Excellent driver, my ass,” Marsha mumbled, squeezing her eyes closed, to shut out the sight.
Lucy’s driving style, way too fast and reckless, had been making Dan nervous for years. It made just about everyone nervous. Practically the only person unfazed by Lucy’s driving, was her cousin Nick.
Probably because he had been the one to teach her to drive, Marsha thought. Or maybe because he drove even faster, himself? Remembering that, Marsha was momentarily shaken. And she’d sent Nick to pick up Sam? Brilliant idea! But at least the road through Hidden Canyon wasn’t perched on the side of a cliff, like the one they were currently traveling.
Marsha tried hard to think of a prayer, or a mantra, or a spell of some sort that might keep them safe, but her mind, frozen by fear, refused to cooperate.
She was hit by Lucy’s panic an instant before she heard her voice.
“Ohhh, no. Not again. That’s not goo— Shit!”
Marsha’s eyes flew open, just as she felt the Explorer leap forward. The road ahead was clear and unobstructed, as it sloped gently down towards the next hairpin curve. She saw nothing to explain the fear that made Lucy stomp down hard on the gas.
Then she heard it.
A rumbling, grinding sound that seemed to fill the whole canyon with its noise, and came from directly behind them. Turning in her seat, Marsha saw a river of mud pouring boulders and trees down the canyon wall. Headed right their way.
For once, she was grateful for Lucy’s tendency to drive too fast, but her relief was short lived. Shit. It didn’t matter how fast Lucy drove, they’d never make it.
She’d no sooner had the thought, then the river overtook them, picking the Explorer up as if it were a toy, and sweeping them helplessly along – like two reluctant lemmings, straight towards the cliff.
They were going to die.
Terror clawed at the edges of Marsha’s mind, and she found herself struggling with the door handle, desperate to get away, to save herself, to be... somewhere else... anywhere else, just—
“Let go.” The voice in her head spoke with quiet authority.
Let go of what, Marsha wondered? Her grasp on the door handle? Her dreams and expectations? Her fears and her regrets? Or, just... everything?
The cliff loomed closer. Time slowed. Marsha looked at Lucy, still struggling to steer the Explorer away from the edge. She noted with sympathy the look of surprise and fury on her friend’s face. Lucy had never liked surprises, and she had certainly not been expecting this one.
She hadn’t expected it, and she certainly hadn’t wanted it, but it’s what she’d gotten anyway.
Marsha felt herself smile, then, because – finally – something clicked. The philosophical concepts she’d been struggling with for years, trying without success to understand, at last made sense.
Life is a river, and the river’s got to flow.
It was an illusion, to think that it mattered how or what you did. To believe that what you wanted, or
expected, really made a difference. Because in the end... the differences didn’t matter at all.
Whether she died today, or tomorrow, or forty years down the road, it was all the same. And life would go on, regardless.
You couldn’t choose the results of your actions, just the actions themselves. And that was the mistake she made over and over again. Thinking that she could change her fate, or anyone else’s enough that it would make a difference in the larger picture.
In the small picture, sure. Maybe. But even there, in the end...
There were really very few choices anyone was free to make. Maybe only one. To cling, or to let go. To give in to fear or to trust.
“Let go,” the voice whispered again.
It was an illusion, she thought suddenly. The clinging and the fear – they weren’t real. “It doesn’t matter,” Marsha murmured, relaxing in her seat, even as the river rushed them blindly at the cliff. Because at last, she knew it to be true.
She felt a great surge of peace and joy and acceptance flash through her, illuminating her mind and incinerating all her fear. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured once more, almost ecstatic at the realization. “It just... doesn’t.”
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* * * *
Chapter Thirty Four
* * * *
No one was coming to her rescue. Scout didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. The thought was as clear in her mind as if someone standing in front of her had uttered the words aloud. Lucy and Marsha would not be coming, and neither would Nick. She was on her own.
If only Nick hadn’t taken her Suburban. She didn’t know how she would have managed to drive it at a time like this, but she sure would have tried. But now, that was not even an option. Nick had thoughtlessly taken her car and her car keys, and his own keys, as well. And he’d left his cell phone behind.
Scout could hardly imagine a worse set of circumstances, except for one. Nick could have not taken her SUV, and be dead now, drowned in the canyon along with Sam. As it was, she still wasn’t sure if— but no, she wouldn’t even think of that.
