Page 17 of Hard Focus
Chapter Five
Connie
“Oh, come on,” Connie muttered. She leaned her headbackwardsagainst the seat, hands on the wheel. Staring at the ceiling of the car, she counted to ten, breathing slowly, then counted to ten again. Traffic was crazier than ever. With the advent of early fall, there had been a sudden influx of tourists to see the leaves turn colors, which meant the sheer volume of cars downtown clogged the streets in a gridlock. It was Saturday evening, and what should have taken her about fifteen minutes had expanded to nearly two hours already, which meant she was going to be late to the firm’s party.
Staring at the back bumper of the car in front of her, she tapped her thumbs against the dashboard, keeping time with the music on the radio. Her car was in the right-hand lane, on the approach to the river bridge that connected the east and west sections of town. There was a left-hand lane that exited just before the bridge, giving cargo traffic access to the shore where barges docked just downriver.
Connie sighed again as the left turn light went green, watching from the corner of her eye as those cars and trucks began rolling forwards to complete their turn. “Finally,” she grumped as the light controlling her lane went green. Connie was focused on traffic in front of her, and the log truck inching up beside her barely registered. Until it began to turn.
The mechanics of the accident wouldn’t become clear until much later. In order to navigate the downtown streets, the log truck driver had adjusted the rear axle underneath the trailer to shorten the turning radius of the truck and trailer. But the length of his load of freshly-harvested logs meant it hung far over the back of the trailer. So far that when the cab of the truck had completed its turn, and the trailer was pivoting to follow in its tracks, the logs swung out and into the lane Connie occupied, intersecting her vehicle just behind the rear door.
The log truck was well into its turn when the screech of metal crumpling accompanied a sideways slam against her car’s chassis. Shocked by the uncontrollable movement, Connie clutched at the unresponsive wheel, struggling in vain to steer the vehicle away from being crowded towards the edge of the bridge. The vehicle jolted again, hard enough to lock the seat belt around her belly. She screamed when the windows broke, glass spraying in from both sides of the car as the logs skated their way along the side while smashing it against the guardrail. Each strut, each upright piece of metal used in the car’s construction interrupted the smooth progress of the logs, pushing her closer and closer to the short wall separating her from the open space beside the bridge.
Shards of glass gleamed across the interior of the car as the driver side lifted from the roadway. The radio played on, music changing as the seat belt tightened across her torso, gripping her with force enough to hold her in place. Several logs wedged their way into the empty window,andthe end ofone hitConnie’s head before rebounding against the windshield and smashing that piece of glass. Confused, she blinked at the raw end of the log only inches from her face, studying how weeping sap covered the surface and held insects in place, antsandbeetlestornfrom the forest floor.
Seconds ticked past as something boomed,andthe car shuddered as it lifted farther, balancing precariously on the edge of the bridge, held there by the tension of that single log jammed in place. The truck drove on down the exit rampandthe log yanked away. Balance broken, her car tipped over and Connie stared in dismay as the roiling, brown surface of the river rushed towards her. The force of water entering the car pinned her against the seat, but the cold, wet wave pulled her out of the fugue the blow had her in. Connie tugged at her seat belt, yanking fruitlessly. She shoved with both thumbs at the unlatch button, but there was no satisfying click of release.
Water broke over the hood, lapping into the cabin of the car through the broken windshield before drenching her legs and feet. “Help me!” The speakers buzzed with static for a moment when the engine died, stopping with a bone-rattling jerk as something inside froze in place. Without the noise, she heard a drone of a crowd from above, but any individual shouts were drowned in the sound of the water that surrounded her. “Help!”
In the distance, she saw tall, gray columns of the south bridge spanning the river. They loomed larger and larger,andshe watched the water swirl and splash, saw a driftwood log sucked under and then spewed back up to smash and splinter against the cement, helpless against the power of the river’s current.
“Help!”
Connie grappled with the seat belt latch again, her hands submerged now as she pressed the button over and over. She yanked at the belt, shoving with her feet to try and dislodge it. Air burbled out of hidden compartments as the waterlogged car was settling into the water. “Help me!” Splashing sounds reverberated from nearby and the car swayed, twisting in the water as the passenger side dipped lower. Connie screamed and lurched away from something coming through the window before she realized it was a man. “Help me, please!”
“I’ve got you.” His voice was deep and reassuring, familiar in some bizarre way. “I’ve got you.” He shoved her hands out of the way and, accompanied by a muffled tearing sound, with a single yank of his arms loosened the seat belt. “Come on.” Hand on her bicep, he pulled her towards the window, the level of water now halfway up the opening. “Come on. I’ve got you.”
Free of the car, she thrashed helplessly for a moment in the water. Fear and the cold river had already leeched strength from her muscles and made her movements uncoordinated. Her rescuer was behind her, his voice in her ear soothing,a confidencecarried in his words that made her believe. “I’ve got you. Just relax. Let me get us safe. I’ve got you.” The repeated refrain calmed her more than anything. His deep voice telling her over and over, “I’ve got you.”
They reached the bankandthere were a dozen people there, hands outstretched to pull them both to shore. Connie was lifted and passed hand-to-hand up to the roadway. An ambulance was already parked there,andthe last person in the line set her on the gurney, a man standing close beside the stretcher. “Easy does it, ma’am.” She looked around wildly for the man with the deep voice, seeing someone being helped from the river. “Ma’am, can you tell me your name?” As she turned to look at the questioner, she caught sight of her car. It had reached the columns of the south bridge and appeared to be bouncing in place, floating right up against the cement like a beach ball against the side of a pool. Then it upended, trunk rising out of the water as the engine compartment was sucked down. An instant later the car was gone, lost into the dark water. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”
“Constance.” She stared at the rolling surface of the water for another moment, then swung her gaze to the EMT affixing a cuff to her bicep. “Constance Rowe.” A blanket fluttered through the air, settling over her legs. Connie fixated on the sight of her pink toenails disappearing behind the fabric. “I lost my shoes.”
“How is she?” The deep voice sounded from right beside her, and Connie twisted to look up, reaching out instinctively. “Is she okay?” A warm hand gripped hers and held firm, an anchor in the storm rolling around her. Her vision blurred and she shook her head, staring in disbelief as the man’s face slowly swam into focus.
“Shocky. Gonna load her up and head in. Wanna ride along?” The EMT flung the clipboard he’d been holding to rest in the narrow space between her legs. “I wanna get rolling. I’ll wait to start a line along the way.” He tied a rubber band around her arm, then did something to the end of the stretcher before pushing hard. Connie stared at the man who had saved her as the gurney rolled away.
“You’re going to be okay.” Cole Stewart told her. He placed his other hand on top of hers where it was wrapped around the railing.
“You’re soaking wet.” Her observation made him laugh,andshe watched with interest as he flung his head back in laughter.
“That happens when I jump in the river.” He ducked as he stepped up into the back of the ambulance.
“You saved me.” Her breaths were coming in short pants. “There was an accidentandmy car…there was a log. A truck, maybe? The river was so cold.”
“Shhh. You’re okay.” Cole looked at the EMT. “You get a name?”
Connie felt a sharp poke in the back of one hand and staredasthe EMT taped tubing into place before taking the rubber band off her arm. “It’s on the sheet.” Loud beeping sounded through the vehicle as he tipped his head towards the clipboard. “Keep her talking. She’s dropping like crazy.”
Shaking so hard her teeth chattered, Connie watched as Audrey’s brother collected the clipboard and studied it for a moment. “You saved me. Thank you.”
“Constance—” Cole’s head whipped aroundandshe felt the full weight of his angry stare. “Rowe. Connie Rowe. Jonas Thompson’s girlfriend.”
The EMT made a pained noiseandshe twisted to look at him. He was staring at Cole, then turned the same wide-eyed gaze on her. He swore softly, expression contorted into something like grief.
“Yeah.” Voice filled with gravel, Cole pulled his hand away and slid down the bench towards the front of the ambulance. “I’ll sit up front,” he said, and then he was gone.
Connie looked at the EMT who seemed to have shaken off the shock and was back to all business. He piled another blanket on her legs, monitored the machines he’d hooked her to, and relayed numbers and acronyms through a radio, all without speaking to her again. She sat in silence and trembled, trying to make sense of everything.
