He relayed my name and told the dispatcher that he’d meet them at the landing by the bridge. A few minutes later, I felt the boat crunch up against sand, and he leaped deftly out and pulled it farther up. I stood as soon as I was marginally stable, though my legs were still insanely wobbly. But he grabbed my hand in his thick, calloused one and practically lifted me to the bank. I gave him a smile of thanks and then staggered two steps to a spot on the bank that was reasonably rock-free and sank to sit. Holy crap, I’m not dead. I looked back at the bridge, wanting to laugh and shiver at the same time. Did someone want me dead, or was that an accident? I hugged my arms around myself, then shifted into othersight and looked at where my car had gone in the water. The truck had hit me twice. Tough to believe that was an accident.
I could see none of the incredible potency of the river that had surrounded me before. Was it because I didn’t need it anymore? No way to know, but I knew the river was just a river now. I wonder if they’ll be able to get my car out. And what they’ll think of the damage to it. I’d barely been able to make a blue glow in my hand back at my aunt’s house, but just a few minutes ago I’d harnessed and controlled enough potency to rip a car into pieces.
And even that might not have been enough if the old fisherman hadn’t been nearby.
I turned back to him. “Thank you,” I said. “I don’t even know your name.”
He smiled, a nice, friendly, open smile. “Raimer. Hilery Raimer.”
“I’ll remember that name.”
He nodded and looked back at the river. “Y’wanna hear somethin’ strange? You’re gonna think I’m crazy.…”
“I’m the last person to call anyone crazy,” I said with a weak grin.
He gave a small snort of laughter. “Funniest thing … ’bout five minutes before your car went into the river, I was anchored around the curve. Never woulda seen your car go in, and even if I’d heard it, I never woulda got here in time.” He shook his head. “But I coulda sworn I heard a lady yelling at me.” He glanced at me, uncertainty flickering across his face.
“Go on,” I urged.
He shrugged, trying to play it off. “I dunno. I been out in the sun a long time. But I coulda sworn I heard some lady yell, ‘Hey, old man, get your bony ass to the bridge. My knees hurt!’” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not the kinda thing a guardian angel usually says, huh?”
I echoed his chuckle even as a chill walked down my spine. My knees?
Or my niece?
Chapter 28
As soon as I checked myself out of the ER, I had Jill take me over to the neuro center so I could check on my aunt. The fisherman’s words seemed to echo through my head as I made a righteous scene, barging my way past the receptionist and nurses, holding my badge up and baring my teeth at anyone who even looked like they wanted to get in my way.
But when I made it up to her room, I got the shock of a lifetime.
“Where is she?” I whirled away from the sight of Tessa’s empty and made bed to confront the nurse assistant who had followed me into the room. Cold misery threatened to sweep over me as my mind quickly ran down the possible reasons why Tessa wasn’t in her bed.
“I’ve been trying to tell you!” the young woman panted. “She’s been moved to another section.” She bit her lip, hesitating.
The misery began to tighten my chest. “Where? Is she still alive?”
>The loud bang on the right side of the car derailed my thoughts and sent my pulse racing. My hands tightened on the steering wheel convulsively as the car fought to swerve in the direction of the blown tire. Adrenaline dumped into my system as I felt the tires slide on the metal decking of the bridge. I steered into the skid, even though the retaining wall of the bridge loomed threateningly, and I managed to get the damn car straightened out and under control just shy of scraping the low concrete barrier.
I allowed myself a ragged breath of relief, then caught a movement in the rearview mirror, barely registering the large pickup truck coming up on me far too fast—
The truck slammed into the left rear corner of my car, spinning it, sending me jerking heavily against my seat belt, and knocking the breath out of me. I saw the retaining wall approach again, far closer and faster. I fought the steering wheel, and for a timeless instant I thought I’d regained control. Then the truck slammed into me again, and my stupid Taurus slid up the side with an agonizing shriek of metal on concrete, hovering on the lip for a heartbeat before tipping over the barrier.
The impact when the car hit the water jammed me against the seat belt again. I dimly felt something in my chest or shoulder give way, but the massive wave of adrenaline slamming through me didn’t give me a chance to feel pain. Water sloshed threateningly against the windows as the car began to sink, and within three heartbeats the car had slipped under the surface.
I was shrieking inside, but within the car it was insanely quiet, save for the low creak of metal and plastic and the quickly rising sound of water rushing through the vents. Stay calm! Stay calm! I silently screamed at myself, teeth gritted together, breath hissing as I fought to undo the seat belt. My heart pounded as the water rose past my knees. Stay calm, damn it! That was the key to survival. Stay calm, wait for the water to fill the car and equalize the pressure, then get a door open.
I couldn’t tell if the car was still descending or if I’d already hit bottom. I didn’t know how deep the river was or what section of the river I’d landed in. For all I knew there was only a foot of water above the car. Or thirty. The seat belt finally came free and I gave a sobbing gasp of relief, then had to clutch wildly at the seats as the car began a lurching roll, coming to a disorienting stop belly up and nose down.
I stabbed at the down button for the window, but either the electronics had already gone or there was too much pressure from the water. The water continued to rush in, swirling angrily higher. I fought the urge to claw at the door, then took a deep breath as the water rose over my head. Now I could open the door. I grabbed the handle and shoved against the door with my shoulder, shuddering in relief as it pushed open.
But only a few inches. My relief shifted to horror as I tried again to shove the door open. Something’s blocking it. The car’s wedged up against something. I groped through the small gap, fingers brushing a rough wood surface. It’s a tree. Shitshitshit, the car’s wedged up against a fucking submerged tree! Hurricane Katrina had dumped thousands of trees into the waterways, and most still remained. I swallowed the fear that screamed at me to keep clawing at the door and clambered past the seat to get into the back. A pocket of air lingered there still, air that I gulped desperately, but it was shrinking quickly. My piece-of-shit car wasn’t airtight by any stretch. I was shocked it wasn’t already completely filled with water, considering how much it leaked when it rained.
I sucked in another breath and pushed myself down to try the passenger-side door, but even through the murky water I could see the dark shapes of the tree branches that kept both doors from opening more than a few inches.
I kicked back up to my pocket of air. My rising panic screamed at me to shoot the back windshield out, but a last remaining sliver of calm asserted itself. The car was upside down, my head was barely above water, and if I shot my gun—a Glock, which probably would shoot once—I’d most likely kill myself from the shock wave in the water, especially since I was carrying hollow points. But I still had other options. I yanked my gun out of my holster and took a deep breath, ducking under and bracing myself with my feet against the seats. I grabbed the gun around the butt and the barrel with both hands, then drove the end of the barrel into the rear windshield as hard as I could.
I felt the windshield give way on the third try, relief flooding me as the tempered shards of glass billowed away. I pushed up to the sliver of remaining air pocket, then took a last heaving breath and ducked under the water.