Convergence: Part V.
The scene – a truck in full jackknife, it's speed and force incomprehensible, bearing down upon Jack and Rachael – plays out in a symphony of grinding, screaming and collapsing metal; the outbound pedestrian guardrail peels away before the swinging, teetering trailer. It is difficult to discern single sounds amidst metal and water, water and metal.
Rachael stands, immobilised, her feet only just arrived to the pavement. Her eyes are wide, staring, as though refusing to comprehend the wall of advancing destruction. A hand closes, tight and bringing pain to her upper arm. Jack's face comes into view.
“... of here!” are the words that filter into her mind.
“Wha...?” she mumbles before being jerked into motion. They are running but the rig looms above them.
The trailer tips and falls. A spray of sparks erupts. The cab lodges against a suspension cable, locked in place and the entire, deadly mechanism begins to swing toward the upriver side of the bridge.
Sal watches, dumbfounded by the massive spectacle and, then, driven by urgency and experience, begins to run. The sounds of destruction envelope him. His gear, tight in clenched fists and slung painfully over his back, slows him. His heart pounds in his throat and sweat springs from his skin making his grip unsure.
Jack, his hand locked on Rachael's arm, chances a glance behind. Their speed on foot cannot match the deadly inertia of the swinging rig. It closes in from the side, the space narrowing. Distantly, he hears Rachael scream.
On his right there is space. There is darkness. It is where the truck is not. It is where there is unknown danger but, here, there are no more alternatives.
They fall against the outside railing and Jack scans the blackness beyond and the foaming water below.
Their two cars crumple against the railing like paper sculptures. The wind rises, pushed by the advancing trailer.
“I love you, Rachael!” he shouts into her shocked face and then his arm goes to her waist. The trailer slams through the pedestrian guardrail and comes to a rest, the metal groaning and heaving.
Two figures plummet in silence from the bridge and disappear below.
Sal drops his wetsuit, there won’t be time to put it on. He knows well the time constraint before hypothermia kills them all. He pulls on mask and fins, shrugs into the harness for the airtanks, and jumps feet first into the churning snowmelt. It shocks like electricity when he jumps in.
Unimaginable cold, piercing, stabbing; robbing the ability to breathe and the will to move.
The water is dark, roiling, moving fast. Sal kicks strongly toward the main current, knowing his best chance for finding the couple would be there. He sees a face, which is washed over immediately. He fights the freezing river to the place he intuits it may come up again. He sees it a short distance ahead, and works toward the place ahead where he thinks it may be. He has seen only one person. One is all he may be able to save.
The dream has returned; more real than ever. Jack looks up toward the diminishing shimmer of light above. His body grows numb and still and the pull of his heavy clothes wants to drag him down. He feels sleep growing on him – a strong impulse to close his eyes and have peace from all the dreams. Still, a weight rests in his other hand, something he had forgotten; a face, perhaps, something to do with home and comfort. His free hand rises toward the surface, yearning. He closes his eyes. Sleep now. Bubbles burst from his mouth in involuntary exhalation.
A hand rises above the water, Sal grabs the sleeve, then the collar, and begins kicking toward the bank. In his exhaustion, he doesn’t feel the cold as before. Struggling toward a purchase, he clumsily bumps against the large rocks dumped along the sides of the bank against erosion. He drags himself up onto the hard landing, his frozen grip pulling dead weight, he agonizingly inches the man out of the water. It is his buddy, John… but no, it can’t be. Then he sees the woman, clenched in the man's arms. Sal finishes pulling her up onto the large rock.
Their faces are grey, lips like bruises, and their eyes fixed on nothing.
Sal yells at them: 'Wake up! You’re safe now!' Rolling them onto their backs, he begins CPR, alternating between them like an automaton. Pumping first his chest, and then hers, over and over - bruising her delicate ribs under his numbed hands. Sal is on automatic pilot, going on training alone. Vaguely, he has the impression of sirens in the distance.
Terri is there, somehow. Terri - crying and kissing him. Johnny – crying and thanking him. But that can’t be. Johnny’s dead twenty years now.
Bright lights and many people talking. The sting of a needle. He drifts off and it is daylight. Mercifully, he is finally warm and Terri is by his side, her hands clutching his tightly.
“Lots of people waiting to see you Sal,” says the short, smiling nurse who bustles in. He looks at Terri and she nods. Familiar faces from his old firehouse crowd into the small room.
“Who are ya, superman?” they razz him.
“Doin’ it all yourself now?” says one.
“Helluva job you did!” shouts another.
“You saved John’s kid, Jack, last night! He didn’t let go of his girl. You pulled them both out of that flood”.
“Then, the damnedest thing, the bridge collapsed”.
“When?” Sal croaked weakly.
“About three in the morning”.
“Yeah. Unbelievable good timing, no one was on it”.
Sal felt the the exhilaration of a job well done fill his body. He realized it was his old buddy who had nagged his dreams to save his son. And maybe a lot of others who could have been on the bridge. Johnny had been very busy for a dead guy; he had sent the best swiftwater rescue expert to be there for his kid.
In a nearby hospital room, Jack wakes to find Rachael sitting, wrapped in a blanket, beside the bed.
“Welcome back”, she says and leans in to kiss him. He smiles slightly.
“I slept”, he whispers.
“You sure did”.
“No, I mean, I slept. The dreams are gone, but I had one...”
“What was it?” she asks, frowning, and her hand grips his.
“I dreamed that I saw my dad. He was smiling at me, like when I was a kid, telling me that it's OK now”.
“I know”, answers Rachael, unable to hold her tears. “We're gonna be OK”.
Sal, impotent to help, had lost Johnny to a long ago boating accident. He was relieved to have been there last night, to save Jack and Rachael. His conscience was freed; he could rest.
Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed this.
Please read Convergence I, III, on my previous blogs.
Convergence II and IV on http://Badlydrawnstickman'
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