Chapter Forty Four
While planning out the trip, Georgia had been frustrated to find that there had been nothing on the map indicating which way the water flowed, a few little arrows in the appropriate places, would have been very helpful, and not too much to ask. So she was very relieved as they set off on this next part of the journey to discover that from now on, they would be paddling with the current. Keeping Warsaw to their left, they set off.
At first they were hidden from direct line of sight from the town by clusters of trees, and the very blackness of their surrounds. Even so Georgia was nervous. They still had a major hurdle to overcome, and that was getting past the third and last bridge. They had no idea if this one would also be guarded, or how well lit up it would be.
Georgia and Lola had agreed that once they sighted the bridge, Lola would drop back, ensuring plenty of room between the two canoes, they did not want to risk accidently colliding with each other within earshot of any potential guards. Then once Georgia was clear, Lola was to follow, paddling like hell and not stop for anything, no matter what. Georgia would wait a mile or so downstream from them.
The water was less choppy here, perhaps because they were more sheltered, but the noise from the rushing and gurgling of the river hid the dip, dip, splash of their paddles.
High overhead a night bird called, its cry lonesome. And as she paddled, eyes staring into the darkness, Georgia found herself thinking of Nathan and unexpectedly, she felt a pang of guilt. None of this was his fault, yet she had been very quick to think badly of him. In fact the more she replayed past events in her mind the less certain she became. Had she really smelt a woman’s perfume on her husband’s clothes? Was possible that she had assumed the worst because he had come home so late? And then there was the matter of that credit card purchase. Perhaps it had only been a week or two before Three-eighteen, in which case the condoms and lingerie had been delayed in the post, or possibly they had already been delivered, and Nathan had secreted them away, waiting for a special occasion.
Just because Lola’s boyfriend was a low life, that didn’t mean her husband was as well. She really needed to stop being swayed by her own insecurities. Stop jumping to wild conclusions and stick solely to facts, and those facts were, that Nathan was a good husband who had gone out to work one day, been caught up in Three-eighteen and hadn’t come home again and everything else was supposition.
She tried to recall their last conversation, but so much had happened, she couldn’t remember exactly what they had said to each other. Only that he had talked of an early appointment. She did not have time to consider this last thought, as all of a sudden, the river became narrower, barely 150 yards across, and ahead she could see a faint glow of light. Then just a moment later, the bridge loomed up before them. It spanned the water at a slight angle, a little closer to them on the right bank.
Her heart began thudding violently in her chest. On the side leading into Warsaw, about a third of the way along, was a tangle of barb wire and a guarded gate. The jagged razor wire in clear silhouette against the multitude of smoky torches placed along both sides of the bridge.
For a brief moment, despite the torches, she had the wild hope that the far side, was unmanned. That hope faded when she saw the flare of a match, as someone lit a cigarette, and just for one second there, she clearly saw the man’s features. His scraggly mustache and thick beard, a glimpse of battle fatigues, and the outline of a weapon slung upon his shoulder.
Choosing the lesser of two evils, she veered the boat to the right, gave a quick hand sign to Rebecca, letting her know, that now they had to paddle with everything they had. (And trust that Lola would stick to the plan.) Then they were building up speed moving ever faster, Rebecca perfectly in tune with her, paddles flying as they skimmed across the water. It would be a matter of minutes and they would be under the bridge and through, and then out the other side racing for the bend in the river. Long gone before anyone would notice them.
And all the while Georgia prayed that the dogs would stay silent, that Ruby would remember the importance of not talking, and that everything would go exactly as planned.
As they neared the bridge, the sound of raucous laughter reached them. They were so close now. They could make out the arches beneath the bridge, the faint half circles of light on the other side; the way to freedom.
They were just about to slip into the shadows under the bridge itself, when suddenly, unexpectedly, out of the darkness, some distance behind them, they heard Lola shriek, and that bloodcurdling sound was followed almost immediately by a faint noise that could have been a splash, but Georgia was not certain.
Then they were under the bridge. Desperate to stop the canoe, she slammed her paddle against the huge concrete supports, and Rebecca (God bless her), saw what she was doing and did the same thing. Now she was silently cursing the current, stronger here as the water forced its way under the bridge and the two of them struggled to prevent the canoe from slipping out the other side. Ruby sat frozen between them, not daring to say a word. What the hell had happened back there? What had gone wrong?
Above them the laughter had stopped abruptly. They heard the sound of boots running to the side.
‘Can you see anything?’ a male voice boomed, his words weirdly echoing around them.
‘Over there,’ someone else yelled.
‘Shoot them, shoot them,’ yet another man cried out, sounding younger than the others, his voice quivering with excitement and fear. How many of them were there?
Georgia strained her eyes, searching for sight of the canoe. Had someone fallen overboard? Searching the darkness for something or anything that would give her an indication of what had happened. At last sighting the other canoe had been at least a hundred yards back.
Then, terrifyingly, there was a barrage of gun fire; the bullets zip, zip, zipping in a wide arc across the water and echoing wildly under the bridge. It seemed to go on forever. Terrified beyond, Georgia and Rebecca continued to struggled to keep the canoe under the bridge, and just when Georgia thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, Badger leapt up onto the side of the canoe, hackles up, barking furiously, and then, she flung herself into the water.
For a moment Georgia saw her, caught by the current, bobbing past the canoe, nose up, ears back. In desperation she nearly let go of the paddle holding them in place, wanting to try and grab her as she swept past. Then Badger was gone. The gun fire slowed down and stopped, and for a moment there was total and absolute silence, accompanied by the ringing in their ears. Georgia felt bile rise in her throat. Had the others been shot? And what had happened to the canoe, why hadn’t it come surging under the bridge? It didn’t seem possible that any of them could have survived that onslaught of bullets. And again she asked herself, what the hell happened?
‘You chicken shit,’ came a male voice, practically above their heads, ‘scared of your own shadow. There’s no one down there.’
‘I tell you I heard someone.’
‘Yeah probably a goose.’
There was a round of laughter at this, then footsteps leading away.
They waited in near blackness, waiting for some sort of answer, muscles straining as they continued to wedge the paddles against the bridge supports, struggling to keep the canoe in place. Then as her eyes grew adjusted to the darkness Georgia saw that every so often there were metal rungs sticking out of the side of the bridge supports.
She grabbed hold of one, steadying the canoe, cringing as the side of the aluminum hull scraped alongside the concrete pillar.
The noise sounded deafening to her Then lacing her arm through the rusting metal, holding it in the crook of her elbow, she turned to Rebecca, indicating to her to let go, and trying to get her to understand they needed some rope. It took a moment for her to get her meaning, and then a couple more for her to find some. Eventually they had the canoe securely lashed at each end, using highwayman’s hitch knots in case they had to get away in a hurry. Her nerves gra
ted with every scrape and clunk of the boat, and not knowing what else to do, she awkwardly pulled off her jeans and wedged them, just below the water level, between the side of the canoe and the pillar, finally muffling the sound.
The first thing she did then, was check on Ant, who had been frighteningly quiet during all this. Thrusting a hand into the bag she was relieved to find her sleeping peacefully. Rebecca gave her a thumbs up in answer to her silent question asking about Millie.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ she whispered to Ruby. Ruby nodded her head, but judging by the confusion in her eyes, she had no idea what was going on.’ Even so, she half turned and repeated what she had said to Rebecca. Rebecca stared at her in the near dark. Georgia could not see her face too clearly, but thought she saw doubt, and something else. Was she blaming her for what had happened? After all this had been her scheme. What had she been thinking coming up with a ridiculous idea like this? It would have been far better to have walked all the way back and taken another route. But it was too late now.
Now they were in a very bad situation. For the men above them had been alerted to something going on, and even though they had laughed it off, she knew it was only human nature for them to now be taking a lot more interest in their surroundings. She had no idea what had happened to the others. She could not go back and find out, and for now at least she could not risk continuing on. After what had just happened she knew it was imperative that their canoe was not seen.
It beggared belief that the men, guards, had not taken the time to ask any questions, not even caring what or who they were shooting at. Harold had been right about how dangerous it was going to be. While she had known it would be risky, she had been thinking in terms of being caught, and then held in a city full of dying people. Not being shot out of hand.
It began to grow cold, so Georgia carefully undid the pack and pulled out a blanket handing it to Ruby, indicating that she pass it on over to Rebecca. Then she stealthily unclipped the blanket roll strap, terrified that the little snap noise it had made could be heard. Doing her best to keep the canoe balanced she wrapped a blanket over Ruby’s shoulders, then helped her to slide off the seat and into the bottom of the canoe where she would be more comfortable. Shivering uncontrollably now, as much from fear as from cold, she pulled out a towel, not having any more blankets and wrapped it round her waist like a skirt. That would have to do.
The silence was occasionally punctuated by loud conversation and laughter from above, but as time moved on that gradually ceased. All the while, Georgia was terrified that one of them would make a noise. That someone would sneeze, or knock something over, or the dogs would start barking. Then it would be all over.
Fear kept her frozen in place, too afraid to move and her muscles screamed at her to shift position. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain Ruby had to be in, at her age, and with her arthritic joints, she had to be in hell. But to give her credit, she was staying staunchly motionless, her lips a determined line.
She tried to stay focused, tried to keep panic firmly locked up, tried not to speculate about what had happened to the Jamie, Deedee and Lola, and whether Badger had managed to get ashore.
What she did know was that they would have to make a break well before dawn. They would have to continue on their way, find a safer place to wait for them. Perhaps hiding their canoe and walking back. She kept hearing that piercing shriek. Why had she done that? Had they been attacked from behind? Was Jamie lying dead on a bank, Deedee battered and bleeding, Lola drowned? ‘Stop it,’ she hissed silently to herself. ‘Stop it. They will turn up, and then we can work out what to do.’ And what about darling Badger?
But as time passed they still did not appear. Ruby had fallen asleep, and she could tell by the occasional jerk of Rebecca’s head, that she was struggling to stay awake. She felt sudden terror at the thought that they might all doze off, and be found in the morning, still sleeping. She shook her head determinedly, that was not going to happen. She was way too stressed to fall asleep, way too cold. What to do? Should they go back? Or should they continue?
She wondered what the time was. It was too dark to see her watch, so she pulled the towel free from her legs and using it to shield the light, she gave her lighter a quick flick. In the brief flame, she saw that it was already twenty to four. Unbelievably they had been waiting for nearly three and half hours and it would be light in two and half more. Despite the cold, she felt her skin break out in a sweat and absolute pure unadulterated fear ran through her veins. Something very bad must have happened. She was in no doubt of that now.
But the question still remained. Should they go back and find out what happened, perhaps meet the same fate as Jamie, Lola and Deedee, or should they go on, never knowing what happened. She thought of what she would say to Nathan. ‘Sorry, we became separated, and no, I don’t know what happened to your son and niece or my adopted sister, and no I didn’t try to find them.’
A phrase popped into her mind. ‘Never accept defeat, never quit, never, leave a fallen comrade behind’. Where had she heard that before? Was it a soldier’s battle creed? It should be their creed.
They would have to go back, she decided, because as frightening as it was, it was the right thing to do. They would go back and find Jamie and Deedee and Lola, and possibly even Badger, and if necessary she would die doing it. In all honesty, they were all soldiers of a sort now, fighting for their group, fighting the fight of the ages. The battle for survival.
She leaned forward and gently shook Ruby. She woke with a start, but fortunately did so without making a sound. Then Georgia picked up her paddle and held it up for Rebecca to see, and pointed back the way they had come. Rebecca nodded in understanding.
They untied the canoe, retrieved her jeans, and carefully back paddling once or twice, turned the canoe around. Then they paused, paddles holding their position, straining their ears, listening carefully for any signs of activity on the bridge. All was quiet.
She gazed ahead of them making sure the way was clear and was about to signal to start moving, when over Rebecca’s shoulder, she suddenly spied a large dark shadow moving across the water toward them, moving with some speed. At first she thought she was imagining it; exhaustion and fear and cold causing her to hallucinate. But the shadow became clearer, becoming a canoe. Yes definitely a canoe, moving with relative speed, wavering back and forth as it came closer. Then her heart soared as she clearly saw Jamie sitting in the bow, Deedee in the stern and Lola crouched over in the middle. All three of them were alive!
Georgia wanted to scream with joy and relief. They were alive! They were really alive, her mind screamed over and over. For one dreadful moment she thought Rebecca was going to call out to them, but she held her tongue, instead indicating the other canoe wildly, her wild movements rocking the boat precariously.
It quickly became clear to Georgia, that the other boat had not seen them, still hidden in the shadows as they were. She heard Lola chanting loudly, ‘Go, go, go,’ as Jamie and Deedee paddled furiously, water droplets flying in all directions.
As the canoe drunkenly slid under the central span of the bridge and disappeared out of sight, Lola’s voice urging the Apaches to go faster trailed behind her. Clearly she did not care who heard her. Above them they heard the sound of running feet and raised voices. Frantically Georgia and Rebecca turned their canoe once more, not caring how much noise they made, and flew from under the bridge, all heed to the wind as they raced after the others. The other canoe already lost from sight and bullets tearing into the water behind them. But they were already rounding the bend, out of range, and finally safe.
Chapter Forty Five
August 14th, Day 35
They headed round yet another bend and then lost sight of the other canoe in the darkness. One minute it had been a shadowy form ahead of them, and then it was gone. It was unnerving, but even so, Georgia was not too concerned about losing them, as they had a pre-determined rendezvous point. She reviewed the map
in her mind, the thin blue meandering lines of the river, the green smudges signifying forested areas and the tiny dots representing houses. Recalling that in less than quarter of a mile, they would pass a dozen or so houses on their right. She held no fears for Lola, Deedee and Jamie as she was fairly confident that this tiny community would not be part of the Warsaw madness. (As she now saw it.) After all it was on the opposite bank, and certainly far enough away from the town to be of no consequence. Then the way would be clear for a further three miles and it was here, along this stretch, that she had told Lola she would wait.
Now that she knew that the three of them were alive and apparently unharmed, though why Lola had not been paddling was puzzling, her thoughts returned to Badger.
Badger was out here somewhere and she would be damned if she was just going to abandon her to the wilds. Her poor baby girl must have been scared out of her wits (as they all had), to do an idiotic thing like that. She recalled that last glimpse of her, ears back, nose out of the water, finding reassurance in that. Yes, she had been caught by the current, but she had been swimming with it, not fighting it.
‘We have to go and look for Badger,’ she said, the sound of her own voice sounding oddly stark after the prolonged period of enforced silence.
‘Yes,’ Rebecca said. It was only one word, but filled with emotion, it expressed everything Georgia was feeling. As one, they slowed their paddling and then stopped, allowing the current to pull them along, occasionally dipping a paddle to steer the canoe straight. But they heard nothing at all. No barking, or whimpering, or even sounds of something crashing through the undergrowth.
She had not really expected to hear anything, but deep down inside she had been imagining Badger, tearing along the shore, keeping pace with their canoe. A ridiculous thought, she knew, but still she had hoped.
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