Page 2 of Ocotillo Kisses
More brown water poured through the opening, filling the bus, adding a force he hadn’t anticipated, spinning the bus sideways.
“No! No, here!” Poppy Woodward, one of the younger girls, unhooked the latch to the escape door on the side of the bus. To do so, she had to climb up on one of the slippery seats to have the leverage to push the door open. Once she flipped the door open, it banged against the side of the bus over their heads. She braced her hands on the edges of the opening and hauled herself up to the side of the bus, sitting on the edge for a minute before reaching back in to help Lacey Davila out.
Together they grabbed Austin by the hands, hauling him out. Con shoved Britt toward the opening. Austin had taken Lacey’s spot above them, and together he and Poppy pulled Britt out. Con followed, took Poppy’s spot. Rain poured down on them, and into the bus as together he and Austin worked to free Javi. Javi was heavy, probably weighing a little less than Con and Austin put together. Con felt the strain in every muscle of his back, and for a few minutes, he didn’t think they would be able to lift Javi without someone in the bus behind him pushing him out. The fear on Javi’s face motivated Con to try harder. Besides, Claudia was still on the bus, and Con needed to get to her.
But after they pulled Javi free, Austin jumped back into the bus.
Of course. His mom was in there, and he needed to get her out. Con wanted to follow to grab his sister, but Sofia Aguilar appeared beneath him. She was tiny enough that he could get her out on his own, but when he turned over his shoulder to look at Britt, who he’d left sitting on the side of the bus, she was nowhere to be found. Neither were Poppy or Lacey.
What the hell, had they gone into the water?
He straightened, still keeping a death grip on the opening, and surveyed the brown water that surged around the bus, sending it downstream—well, down gully—at an uneven pace.
A blonde, brunette and a redhead went into the water...he didn’t know why that inappropriate thought popped into his head, but then he saw Britt’s blonde head above the surface of the churning creek. Without thinking, he jumped into the water after her.
He thought he would hit the bottom. The gully was not that deep, but his feet didn’t touch the rocky ground. The gray-brown water was crazy fast, and it caught him and slammed him against the front end of the bus. Pain shot through his body, the back of his head, and a bit of red swirled around him in the water before blending in. Before he could catch his breath from the pain, the water surged toward him, flowed into his mouth and nose, swamping him. He scrambled for a minute, panicking, and kicked his way to the surface, turning his body at the same time so he could breathe, get his bearings. Now that he was in the water, he couldn’t see Britt, and couldn’t be sure she was where she had been before, since the force of the water was so great. Something swirled past him in the water, and a sharp pain sliced along his rib. His hand instinctively went to cover the pain, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
A garbled cry nearby jolted him from the shock of the pain. Was it Britt? Someone else?
He thought he saw long blonde hair floating in the water and he surged forward to see his eyes had been playing tricks on him. But if he couldn’t reach the bottom, he knew she couldn’t. She knew how to swim, but could anyone prepare to swim in water like this?
And then he saw her break the surface, her pale face tilted up as she gulped for air. He struck out toward her, every stroke of his right arm sending searing pain through his body, his own lungs aching for air.
She saw him, then, and held out her hands. The water had more power than either of them, and he had to change direction to catch her, her hands slipping from his grip once, twice, before he caught her wrist. Again he tried to reach the bottom of the gully to slow their progress, but couldn’t. The occasional rock he hit with his toes just tumbled along with him, until one tore his shoe off.
Britt was able to grab hold of a mesquite tree in the middle of the gully to slow them. Con wrapped his arms around her, holding her to one of the rough branches as they both coughed and fought to catch their breath.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since he went into the water. He didn’t know how long he clung to the tree before he lifted his head to look for the bus, which was now downstream from them.
Claudia. His sister was still inside the bus. He had to get in there to her, had to get her out. If he could just get to the top of the bus, to the hatch he’d opened first, he could get in, pull her free. She wasn’t very big, so he wouldn’t need anyone to help him.
“Stay here,” he said to Britt. “I have to get to Claudia.”
“Con, you can’t. You can’t go back in the water. You’ll drown!” Panic made Britt’s voice shrill.
“I have to get my sister,” he said, though the idea of losing control in the stream threatened to freeze him. But he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try.
“Don’t leave me!” Britt cried, just as he jumped in.
He struck out toward the bus, and this time the rushing water helped him, pushing him toward the vehicle, then slamming him into the roof. The hatch, however, was underwater, and he wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to be able to push himself through that small opening. Even if he could, once he got in, he wouldn’t be able to see anything.
He should have made sure Claudia was out of the bus first before he jumped into the water.
He used the riveted panels on the top of the bus to propel himself around to the rear bumper, every movement causing bright white pain in his side. If he could just get to the door at the back of the bus, where Claudia and Bridget had been sitting, he could get the girls out through there. But when he reached the rear of the bus, he saw that even if he could get his wet hands to operate the lever handle, he didn’t think he could open the door outward into the rushing water.
He banged on the window, hoping to get her attention so she could open the door, push out while he pulled. He didn’t know if she would be safer out here, but inside the bus, he could see the water was high, and she wouldn’t have any place to go. Why didn’t she answer him? Couldn’t she hear him?
Maybe she and Bridget had moved up to try to get out the open hatch. Maybe she wasn’t on the bus anymore, though he didn’t know how she could have gotten out without someone pulling her free. But she was strong, his sister. Maybe she’d gotten out on her own. He pressed closer to the window, looking for her, slapping his palm against the window and yelling for her.
And then he saw her, her floating blonde hair in the water, not responding to him. Not responding. Her name tore out of his chest as the bus spun away from him and pushed him under the water.
*****
CON SPENT TWO DAYSin the hospital in San Angelo, on IV antibiotics for the puncture in his side. His right hand was broken, so no more baseball for him, even if he felt like playing it.
San Angelo was too far for his friends to come visit, and his parents were so torn up over losing Claudia that they only came for a short time the first day. Even Britt, who got one of her sisters to drive her, only came once and didn’t stay long, so he had plenty of time for what-ifs.
What if he’d driven and not been on the bus?
