Briggs (Carolina Reapers 7)

“Cormac, this is the only road out of here.” Her hands fisted in my t-shirt.

“Are you sure?” I managed to rip my attention from the spectacle in front of us and looked down at Bristol.

She stared straight ahead at the road and nodded her head.

“You folks may as well head back up to your rental,” the Deputy said, coming up on my left. “Looks like we’re going to be stranded here for a bit.”

My entire body tensed as the gravity of our situation hit me with every drop of rain.

“Is there any other road out?” Bristol asked the deputy, her voice laced with a hope I could hear but couldn’t feel.

“Not from here.” He shook his head. “This is the only way in or out of this area. I would know, that’s my driveway right there.” He motioned back to the private property sign at the bend in the road.

“Okay,” I said, forcing my brain into gear. There had to be another way out of here. I just had to think hard enough to see it. “That tree looks pretty thick, right?”

“Red oak,” the deputy said with a mournful sigh, his poncho slapping my bare forearm as the wind blasted us again. “She was probably two hundred years old, too. I told Mike he was going to have to take her down. She was showing signs of wilt. Damn shame, too.”

I didn’t even bother asking who Mike was.

There had to be a way. The plane was ten fucking minutes away.

“I could probably walk straight across the trunk.” I nodded. “Yeah. I can walk straight over the trunk, and I’ll just call for an uber or something, and you can drive back to the house,” I said to Bristol.

“Call for an uber?” Bristol said slowly, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

There was a good chance I had.

The bridge groaned as the tree’s branches sank further into the water, and the trunk shifted, falling through to the creek below with a tidal splash.

“Or not.” There would be no using the tree as a makeshift bridge.

“Well, at least it’s not in the middle of the bridge anymore,” the deputy said.

“How long will it take to get someone out here?” Bristol asked. “We have to catch a flight.”

“What do you bet I can jump the distance? It doesn’t look more than a few feet wide. I can do that.” I already had my cell phone. I’d just get a running start, and I’d be on the other side before I knew it. Okay, I might miss morning skate at this rate, but I’d be in the city before noon. Easy.

“I’d make other travel arrangements. No one’s going out on that bridge until this thing is over.” The deputy motioned to the world around us. “It was a structural nightmare to start with.”

As if the earth wanted to punctuate his comment, the current finally caught the tree’s branches, and the giant oak moved downstream, dragging what was left of its root system from the bank and into the water. Freed from whatever resistance the bank had provided, the lower half of the tree slammed into one of the bridge supports as it passed, taking it out.

An entire section of the bridge crumbled.

“I can’t jump that.” I was fucked. So, so, so fucked.

“No, son, you can’t.” The deputy shook his head. “And with spring run-off, she’s gotta be about ten feet deep and twenty feet wide this time of year.”

Bristol shivered against me.

“There has to be another way.” This was not happening. It was impossible.

“Not unless you can fly.”

Bristol turned suddenly and yanked my hand. “That’s it!” She called over her shoulder. “There’s a helipad in the backyard! Get in the car!”

A helicopter. That was definitely a better solution.

We raced back to the rover, and my phone vibrated in my pocket as I strapped in. I swiped it to answer, then pushed the speakerphone button and handed it to Bristol before throwing the car into reverse.

“What?” I shouted, backing up into the woods so I could turn around.

“You missed breakfast, asshole,” Sterling said. “And you didn’t answer when I knocked on your door. Did you sleep in? And what the hell is that noise?”

I put the car into drive and turned back onto the road, heading back up to the house. “That would be rain. And I didn’t answer because I’m not there.”

Bristol balanced my phone on her lap and was already working on hers.

“It’s an odd day to go sight-seeing.” He laughed. “Or are you with Bristol?”

“Yep, I’m with Bristol.” My voice was just as tight as the curves on the road as I drove.

“Go figure.” He snorted, then paused. “Wait. It’s not raining that hard here. Where the fuck are you?”

“About that.” I gritted my teeth and acknowledged the truth. “I’m going to miss morning skate.”