Chapter 28

Penetrating silence surrounded the wishing well. Droplets of rain clung to the trees, the shrubs, the grass and the well’s old wood posts. Everything smelled fresh and clean. The way only a spring shower can make the land smell.

The storm had moved on. So had the two souls. Zeke was alone again, but what had happened here was amazing. He lifted his right arm. The tattoo was unresponsive under his sweat jacket. It was no longer urging him.

However, there was one more thing he needed to do to fulfill his Uncle’s final wishes. Perhaps, they were his mother’s final wishes as well. A hitch caught in his chest with the thought. He would do it. For Luther. For mom. Perhaps even, for himself.

He lifted the Bible and turned the pages. He knew the passage. His mother engrained it with a fairy tale. His uncle abbreviated it for a security code, 1C410, First Chronicles 4:10. He whispered, “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Uncle Luther.”

“Zeke!” a distant, frantic voice called.

A bolt of unexplained fear shot through him. Zeke spun around. “Here!”

“Where are you?” Clifford’s voice carried across the rain soaked terrain.

“Clifford? I’m here,” Zeke called back. He closed the Bible, grabbed the urn and moved toward his friend.

Clifford ran into the clearing, Zeke met him part way.

Clifford’s eyes darted from the old well to Zeke. “Thank God, we found you,” He heaved labored breaths. Panic inundated his eyes. “You’re an EMT, right?”

“Well, no. Uh, yeah ... sorta. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Flood!” Clifford bent over and held his side. He made a circular motion with his hand, summoning Zeke.

“What flood?” Zeke frantically looked around but moved closer.

“The river is swelling,” Clifford said between gasps for air, “and the dry streams ... are filling. Roads are ... flooding. We’ve gotta ... help. There will be people—

“I get it, let’s go!” Zeke cut him off.

They ran back to the house. Zeke quickly set the urn and Bible on the breakfast table and followed Clifford out the front door.

Vince James stood next to a shiny black Hummer anxiously watching the house. When Zeke and Clifford emerged, he lowered a black communications radio.

“There’s a VW in the water,” Pastor James hollered as he swung up into the driver’s seat.

Clifford and Zeke ran to the huge truck and jumped in.

“Where?” Clifford asked.

The radio squawked a command. Vince responded.

“There’s a volunteer fire crew out here and other local people,” Pastor James explained. “The paramedics have been called but they aren’t here yet. It’s right around that turn. This creek probably runs through your land, Zeke.”

“Cliff...” Zeke swallowed. “Why is this happening?”

“This happens every few years. When we get a big storm like we had, the river can’t hold all the run off from the mountains. When it swells, the dry beds take the overflow and you get,” Clifford gestured to the flooded road. “ ... this.”

“Oh wow!” Zeke exclaimed. Merely the day before this gully was as dry as a desert. Now it resembled a branch of the Arkansas River.

Vince quickly pulled off and drove up the side of the gorge. The rocky terrain crumbled beneath the heavy vehicle’s huge tires as he ground to a stop.

Downstream, men and women were standing and shouting across the water to those on the other side. A purple-pink Volkswagen beetle floated precariously toward the rescue teams. The two groups had strung a rope between them in an attempt to stay the vehicle. Debris in the water slowed the bug’s egress down the newly-filled river.

The person inside had a hand against the driver’s window and one on the windshield.

The volunteer crew shouted instructions to her and each other.

Her window began to lower. “Help me!” she screamed.

“No, don’t roll down your window. What is she doing?” Zeke shouted. He opened his door.

Vince threw the transmission into reverse and backed up a short distance. He had pulled too close to the crumbling bank.

Zeke held his door partially closed.

Vince threw the Hummer into park.

“Let’s go!” he shouted and the three men spilled out of the huge vehicle.

“What do we do?” Zeke asked over his shoulder as he ran toward the Volkswagen.

“Whatever they tell us to do,” Clifford hollered as he pointed at the crew.

At that moment, the Volkswagen drifted into the ropes and the people on both sides strained to hold the bug back. The water bullied its way around the fuchsia obstruction.

The girl inside moved hysterically. She was losing it.

Zeke prayed peace for her.

“Don’t move,” the crew hollered. “Don’t move!”

She set back in her seat.

She still had her seat belt on. Zeke’s mind flashed back to the vehicle under the water outside of Austin, and the seat belt he wrestled to free John Martin. Concern flipped to horror as the VW pressed against the ropes. The water forcefully pushed it forward. It tilted and then rolled over. He’d seen this before. The open window allowed the river to pour in and the Volkswagen sunk into the murky depths.

Something inside of Zeke kicked into gear. He ran toward the crew with the ropes. “Lasso the tires,” he shouted and pulled off his shoes.

“Get back,” a woman screamed.

“Catch the tires!” Zeke pointed at the rope.

A man pulled his rope back from the water and looped one end. He swung it over his head and ran down the side of the rushing water. The floating vehicle remained just ahead of him, but he threw the rope at its underbelly. It caught on the rear tire and he pulled with all his might. The people on the other side imitated his example and caught the tire on the other side. Others grabbed the rope and held the vehicle in place. Water again rushed over the under carriage, but the VW stayed in place.

Zeke rushed into the water.

“Stop!” a voice screamed at him.

He turned.

A woman shoved a rope at him and gestured around her middle.

Zeke understood. He grabbed the rope from her and quickly tied it around his waist. Then he dove into the water and swam toward the car. The rope pulled against his mid-section. He ignored the pain and swam with the rushing water. He fought the current to halt himself at the car. Locating the door handle, he pulled the door open, took a deep breath and submerged.

The girl clawed at him. He pulled back. He had to stay out of her reach.

He forced himself against the current toward her back seat and reached around to unbuckle her seat belt.

Her movements slowed. She was losing consciousness. He needed to hurry. He pulled on his rope and was helplessly shoved by the current into the vehicle’s open door. Thank God the door was open. Otherwise he would not have been able to stop.

He reached in and pulled her from the seat. A burning began in his lungs as he held his breath. He manipulated himself between her and the vehicle. He yanked the rope and flipped it over her head, down over her shoulders, causing his life rope to also encircle her body. Relief flooded him as he broke the surface and gasped for air. He pulled her up as high as he could. Embracing her in the rescue hold, he pulled and kicked with all his might.

The rope dug into his ribs and tightened around them both. The rescue team pulled them to the bank. The current took hold of the vehicle when the crew released the ropes.

The only concern now was getting her on the shore. He thanked God for the people on the other end of this rope. The current was too strong for him to do this alone. It wasn’t like the stagnant pond he pulled John Martin from.

Muffled sirens sounded farther away than they were. His ears were full of water, his lungs burned, but she was on the bank. The medical team spilled from the truck. They would revive her.

A group of the volunteers ran off to capture the vehicle again. Clifford helped Zeke stand. They stepped back from the girl and let the medical team gather around her.

Something gold flickered at the edge of the water. Zeke stepped over to it. It was a necklace. It must have caught on something as he dragged her out of the water. He lifted the long delicate chain from the mud. The weight of the sludge-coated necklace pulled the chain taut. He gathered it into his hand and shoved it into his pants pocket.