Chapter Five

“Katherine!”  Amy’s scream broke through the sounds of earth shifting and sliding and of my own heavy breathing.  My panicked breaths came in gasps as I tried to suck in the last bit of air that I might ever breath.  My eyes, having had instinctively closed, were now open again, seeing only dirt.  Tamping down my rising panic, I reminded myself that I was only surrounded in dirt – not covered. It seemed as though the ground had created a crater-like divot in which to partially swallow me.  

“Max!”  I called again, trying to shout as loudly as possible without moving my body.  The more one moved, the more likely it was that the ground would give way to a more complete and inescapable sink hole.  I had seen this first hand when, in the early days after the disasters began, one of the women who lived in my neighbourhood had died in a sink hole.  She had gotten caught in a small depression like I did, but had panicked, thrashing around and causing a full sinkhole to form and swallow her. That had been imprinted on my memory.  Not because I was particularly attached to the woman, I had only known her casually, but because I knew I could do better. I knew I could learn to grow and adapt and survive in this nightmare of a world. I knew I could learn to control my fear. I would die eventually, but it would not be in a panic. I would not be afraid when I died.

“Don’t move!” A desperate, but firm command sounded from Max.  Moments later, a rope with a loop on the end was flying through the air and smacking me in the head. “You hit my head!” I protested. 

“Shut up” Came a curt reply. Evidently, my attempts to lighten the mood had not worked all that well.

“Slip the loop around your wrist and hold on.” I did so. In a few moments, Max had begun pulling me up.  At first, I thought that it would not work. The rope bit through the dirt at the surface, but eventually, after a few agonizing moments, the rope began moving steadily out of the hole instead of deeper into it. When I could see over the rim of the hole, I saw Max standing by a tree about twenty feet away, pulling the rope.

“Stay on your stomach!” He yelled. I compiled as he pulled me closer.  Dirt and rocks began to rub painfully against my wrists and upper arms, as my sleeves were shoved back by the ground resisting my motion across it. After he had dragged me about ten feet from the hole, he yelled, “Okay, now try to start crawling towards me!” I tilted my head up to look at him.  A distressed Amy stood holding onto the tree trunk with one hand, the other hand gripping the strap of her little backpack. 

“Carefully” Maxed urged, his face strained with concern and fear.  I met his eye, hoping that my facial expression was enough to convey what I wished I could tell him – I will. 

Slowly, painstakingly, I rose from my stomach to my knees.  I tried to ignore my racing heart as I distributed my weight to my limbs as evenly as I could. The spongy ground gave way slightly and I froze, terrified that I might cause another sink hole to open up.  After a moment, I cautiously lifted my right hand and moved it forward, the wet dirt clinging to it and grinding against my skin as I put my hand back down and pressed my weight into it.  I squeezed my eyes shut momentarily, before bringing my left hand up to match it with my right. 

“That’s it!” Encouraged Max “Keeping going!”  

I continued moving my hands and knees forward methodically, testing the ground’s integrity at each movement. Finally, I was within reach of Max, who had gotten down on his hands and knees and was reaching out towards me.  The moment I was close enough, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him.  I forgave him the burning jolt to my shoulder joint as I surged towards him.  In a moment, we had both scrambled to sitting positions with our backs to the tree trunk, breathing hard.  Amy collapsed into my lap as she tried to hug me.  She clung to me, crying “I-I thought you were dead.” I gently placed a hand on her head, holding her close. “It’s okay now. I’m safe.  Your dad saved me.”  I smiled down at Amy. “You’re lucked to have suck a brave dad, Amy.”  She sniffled and nodded picking at a button on my jacket as she sat stiffly on my lap.

I looked over at Max, “Thank you” I smiled, leaning my exhausted head back against the tree.  

He turned, his head already resting against the rough bark of the tree. 

“Anytime” he smiled, a tired expression on his face. 

I raised an eyebrow, “You’re expecting this to happen again, are you?”  Max’s eyes sparkled with amusement, “One must be prepared for any circumstance.”  He quipped. He rested his hand gently on my knee, gazing intently into my face.  His blue eyes shone with a tender, earnest concern.  “Seriously, though, are you okay?”  

I couldn’t hold his gaze.  I looked down, plucking little blades of grass from around one of the roots of the tree protruding from the dirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Liar” he accused, but his expression was soft. 

“Fine,” I countered, “I’ll be fine,” I gazed at Max and gave him a half-smile, “Eventually.” 

“That I’ll accept.” Max said as he hoisted himself up from the ground, extending his hand towards me. I eased Amy off my lap as he pulled me to my feet. 

His smile faded to a serious expression.  Max’s gaze shifted to Amy briefly before resting on my face again once more. 

“We should keep moving.” 

“Yes, we should.”  I agreed, grabbing Amy’s hand. 

We continued on carefully, testing each footstep until we had gone about one hundred yards from the sinkhole.  Ahead, a large bridge was becoming visible.  It spanned the ravine.  A horrifying convenience.  It lead exactly in the direction in which we needed to go, and yet, the chances of the bridge collapsing were high. Very high. 

It was a grandiose bridge, its black suspension construction gleaming in the sunlight. 

Max turned back, “What do you think?” 

I knew he meant the bridge.  The last thing I wanted to do was risk falling again, but we had come this far. “I say we cross it!”  I shouted back. “What do you think?” 

Max had taken a step back towards Amy and I as the roaring of the water tearing through the ravine continued to be just shy of a deafening volume.  “I think it’s the best shot we’ve got at crossing this ravine.”  He looked towards the bridge, then back at Amy and I.  “I don’t want to go anywhere that is unnecessarily dangerous, but I still think heading north is still the wisest option.” 

Nodding, I yelled back, “Well then let’s go.  I want to be well across that bridge by the time it gets dark.”  

Agreed!”  Max looked to Amy, “We’re going to cross that big bridge and then find a spot to camp tonight, sound good?” Amy nodded, but I could see the tears – and terror – welling in her eyes. 

We arrived at the south end of the bridge. A faded and cracked highway led up to it, leading further south in the opposite direction of the bridge.  Amy scuffed her shoe against the white line of the pavement.  She proceeded to try to walk along the white line at the edge of the road.  I gently pulled her towards the centre of the road, pointing towards the yellow line.  The middle of the road would likely be the safest place to walk right now as the ground beneath would probably be more solid and dense than the surrounding land and edges of the road.  Amy happily moved to walk along the yellow line, and we began our ominous trek straight towards the bridge.  We were not fifty metres away and my stomach flipped at the thought of us plunging down to the raging water slurry below. 

When we were about ten feet away, the sound of the water was so loud that it drowned out any hope of communication.  Max turned and reached an arm towards me, beckoning me closer, as if to say, “Stay within arm’s reach” before he picked up Amy.  I nodded, attempting to convey that I understood and agreed.

We crossed the first quarter of the bridge incredibly slowly, visually scanning all we could in order to ensure that the bridge would not collapse.  Every creak and groan had us pausing, hearts in throats, before we would cautiously continue.

When we had travelled halfway across the bridge, my anxiety had increased. We were at the most vulnerable location on the bridge.  I squeezed my eyes shut a moment, willing the panic rising inside of me to go away.  When I opened them and looked to my feet again, my breath caught in my throat, this time for a different reason. I dropped to my knees, hardly noticing Max’s hand on my shoulder as I shakily reached towards what had so captured my attention.  A painted stone.  It was painted bright red, with black letters which read, “Carla and Katherine”. Tears welled in my eyes as I flipped the stone over.  The back displayed an arrow, surround by the letters ‘N,E,S,W’, and the arrow pointed in the direction of the ‘N’.  Below was written “Be brave.”  I placed the stone back on the bridge and stood, still shaking. Liam is alive.  I felt an immense amount of comfort at the thought, and yet, a weight quickly settled in my chest. Liam could have placed this stone here months ago. He could be dead by now.  Still, I felt more confident with the hope that my friend could be alive and that he had wanted Carla and I to follow him north, for I was sure that was what the arrows and letters meant.  Just then, I realized Max’s hand was still on my shoulder, tightening now, more urgent.  I looked up at him, smiling reassuringly.  I pointed north, nodding and smiling.  He frowned, looking a bit confused, but turned to continue. 

At about three quarters of the way across, I felt the tightness in my chest dissipate.  We are going to make it.  It felt like many hours since we had first begun to cross the bridge, but truly, it had likely any been under an hour.  Still, when we stepped off of the bridge, Max and I heaved out heavy sigh of relief.  I leaned over, putting my hands on my knees, a grateful feeling flooding through me at our safe crossing.  I straightened and looked to Amy and Max, who both were smiling – a rarity for Amy when she wasn’t playing “eye-spy” with me. Amy stretched out her arms I enveloped both her and Max in a hug.  I felt Amy’s little arms and Max’s strong arms around me.  I have a home again.