The Edge of the Knife (Surviving the Fall 8)

“Let’s just get going and try not to think about that right now, okay?” Rick turned and headed along the bank upstream. Jane had positioned the car near the edge of the river facing upstream with the lights on which made it slightly easier for the pair to navigate through the tr

ees and brush along the edge of the river. Dr. Evans and Rick’s primary goal during the walk was to keep their air-filled bags intact, which they managed to do with only a few close calls.

“Okay.” A few hundred feet up the river Rick stopped and looked at Dr. Evans. “You think this is far enough?”

“It depends on how well you can swim.” Dr. Evans smiled.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick sighed and looped the bags containing their shoes, the flashlight and the food and water around his neck. “She was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“This is a really, really stupid idea.”

***

Rick kept his head and chest up as he leapt from the bank into the river, trying to put as little pressure on the fragile bag of air as he could. His toes scraped against the soft mud of the river’s bottom and he gasped in shock at the water’s temperature. His body started to shiver almost immediately and he nearly lost the bag around his neck before re-adjusting it and positioning himself on the makeshift float.

Dr. Evans jumped in after Rick and, after arranging himself on his bag, shouted out to Rick who was already several feet down the river. “Kick! Kick as hard as you can! This current is strong!” Rick put his head down and began kicking his legs, as quickly as he could without thrashing them. He looked up occasionally to try and see how much progress he and Dr. Evans were making but from his position in the river it was nigh-on impossible to tell where the water stopped and the land began.

“Stop looking up and kick harder! We’re nearly there!” Dr. Evans’ voice was much closer than it had been a moment ago and Rick had to fight the urge to stop kicking and look over to see where his companion was. His calves and thighs burned as he pushed harder and he could feel the bag he was resting his chest on beginning to slowly sink further into the water, likely due to a leak in one of the layers of plastic.

After kicking for what felt like forever Rick noticed that there was a yellow glow out of the corner of one eye. He risked a quick glance up to see that the barge was around fifty feet off to the right and he had nearly crossed the breadth of the river. Not wanting to miss the boat and be forced to come ashore downriver, Rick put his head back down and grunted as he kicked even harder. His muscles screamed in agony and the last several feet felt longer than the rest of the swim combined. Finally, though, he heard Dr. Evans shout again, and relief washed over him.

“Look out, you’ll hit your head on the barge!” Rick stopped swimming and looked up as he floated past the front of the barge. The pusher boat was next and Rick saw a thick metal chain hanging down into the water from the deck of the craft. He reached out and grabbed the chain and his body swung slowly around in the current until his legs and waist bumped up against the hull of the craft. Rick tried to pull himself up into the boat but even though he thought he hadn’t used his arms during the swim he found that they felt just as worn out as his legs.

“Hey, Dr. Evans!” Rick called out. “Give me a hand?” No response came, but after a few seconds there was the sound of thumping and rustling plastic above Rick’s head. He looked up as a hand and arm shot down and Dr. Evans’ smiling face appeared.

“Come on, Rick! Come aboard!” Rick used his last bit of strength as he clung to Dr. Evans’ arm, using it and the side of the boat to pull himself up onto the deck. When he finally pulled his legs in over the side he collapsed to the deck, panting heavily and shivering uncontrollably.

“H-h-holy c-cow.” Rick’s teeth chattered and Dr. Evans quickly opened the plastic backs they had both hung from their necks and got out the blue blanket. He dried Rick off first before drying himself, then they both put their socks, pants, jackets and shoes on. They were still damp all over but as Rick continued to shiver inside his clothes he felt himself slowly starting to feel better.

“That was insane.” Rick whispered to Dr. Evans.

“It was fantastic!” Dr. Evans smiled broadly as he rubbed his hands together. “What you’re feeling is perfectly natural. The cold of the water combined with the intense physical exertion has left your body sapped of strength. Be sure to drink some water and eat something. You’ll feel better soon.”

“How is it you’re doing just fine while I’m the one suffering?” Rick’s hands shook as he opened up an energy bar and ground it beneath his chattering teeth.

Dr. Evans shrugged. “When I used to swim competitively I would train during the winter using a lake behind my parent’s house. That plus living in cold climates most of my life got me used to it, I guess.”

Rick stood up slowly and gave Dr. Evans an envious look. “Thanks for the help out there. I appreciate it.”

“No worries.”

Rick was about to suggest that they check out the pusher boat when they heard Jane yelling faintly from across the river. “You two okay?!” Rick turned to see her standing near the car—with its lights now off—waving her flashlight at them. Rick raised both arms and gave her two thumbs up, which she replied to by raising a thumb and switching off the flashlight.

“Okay, then.” Rick turned back to Dr. Evans. “Let’s see if this thing works.”

***

The estimate of twenty minutes for checking out the pusher boat turned out to be reasonably accurate, as it took the two men fifteen minutes to break open the lock leading into the control room on the deck. Two minutes later they located all the necessary switches and buttons required to turn on the lights, raise the anchor and switch on the engine. The pusher boat roared to life with one turn of the key, its well-maintained diesel engine none the worse for wear after having sat out in the weather ever since it was abandoned.

Whoever was manning the boat had either left in a hurry or was exceptionally messy. There were food wrappers, empty soda bottles, discarded newspapers and a stack of books scattered inside the small cabin that housed the control room. The boat’s logbook was stuffed in a small drawer on one side of the room but there was nothing written inside that gave any information about why the people working the pusher boat had decided to anchor it next to the bank of the river.

“Maybe they wanted to use it again?” Rick speculated aloud as he thumbed through the logbook again before tossing it back into the drawer.

“I feel sorry for them.” Dr. Evans surveyed the controls and nodded. “I believe I understand how this all works.”

“Fantastic. Do you think we can get the barge across the river and back?”