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The bats were relentless. They dove over and over again trying to get at the crickets. Hitting the cage and bouncing off. Dropping to the floor of the car and banging around as they tried to get back up into the air. One crashed into the side of his head. Another hit him in the mouth.
Tyler spit furiously. Convinced there was bat fur on his lip, on his tongue. Another hit him in the back of the head and rolled down the seat behind him. He could feel it squirming against his back. He twisted his body desperately to get at it. He couldn’t reach. He flailed his arms, kicked his feet and screamed like a little girl. He was in a total panic. His right foot came down on the gas and the car took off.
It swerved violently. The last remaining beers fell to the floor and lodged themselves behind the brake.
The plastic six pack ring wrapping itself around and locking the pedal in place. The car sped down the drive, careening from one side of the road to the other. Three thousand pounds of wannabe, piece of shit, hoopty beater of a muscle car recklessly and unstoppably heading right for the party.
Forty yards out.
The rest of it happened in an instant. Tyler hit the edge of the party. Panic ensued. People ran for cover and dove for their lives. The car hit the tables flipping them over and sending platefuls of poofs and bowls of bruschetta flying though the air. Cocktail napkins floated down like confetti. Chairs were crushed. Glasses were smashed. Liquor rained down like, well, rain. So much screaming. Total pandemonium.
Tyler had lost all control at this point. He screamed and swatted and flailed and panicked and did whatever he could to keep the bats off him. But he didn’t stop the car. He couldn’t stop the car.
He took out the stage, the band, the instruments. The bassist barely escaped with his life. The drummer got clipped as the left fender grazed his hip.
Tyler swung his right arm wildly through the air trying to throw a biting bat off his wrist, jerking his whole body to the right. The car responded in kind. Taking out a tent post as it continued on toward the dock. Still the bats kept coming.
“I see something,” said Nikki.
“What?” Patrick was breathing hard and pulling the oars through the water with everything he had.
Ant gripped the edge of the boat, imagining the worst…
Thirty yards out.
The car shot straight down the dock. It sped toward the lake.
Twenty yards out.
The dock had a slight upward curve at the end. Something about a rocky outcropping at that point off shore. The builders had a tough time positioning it where the town wanted, but in the end a compromise was struck. The downside was that it wasn’t perfectly level. There was a distinct upsweep at the finish.
Tyler’s car sped forward. The wooden planks creaked and groaned beneath its weight. He was still doing a good thirty odd miles an hour when he hit the end. The curve of the dock launched the car up into the air. It seemed to hang there, time standing still, as the wheels spun and the bats swarmed, trying again and again to get at those crickets. Then the car splashed down. Into the water. Landing within inches of Ant, Nikki and Patrick.
The wave capsized everyone who was within thirty yards of the impact. But those guys took the brunt of it. Their boat didn’t just flip over and slip quietly into the water. The wave the car caused when it hit jettisoned the rowboat up and out. Flipping and twisting it into the air and sending the three of them flying in different directions. Almost simultaneously they hit the water. Almost simultaneously they were sucked beneath the surface.
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The crowd was aghast, thunderstruck, speechless. A collective gasp rippled through as they began to piece together what had just happened. Confusion and panic. A car, a crash, multiple injuries, mayhem…
Then Mrs Cap began screaming and pointing at the lake.
Romeo was among the first to move. Miraculously, the stand had been completely missed. Tyler had never even come close to it. He’d hit or crashed into almost everything else. But, Monty’s makeshift mobile kitchen had been spared.
Romeo jumped over the table. Up and over the last few steak sandwiches they’d made. Leaving them completely intact and untouched. He ran for the lake. Quickly others followed.
“There! Over there!” screamed a waitress. She was half soaked from the gin and tonic that had upended onto her neck and shoulder. The sip stick still stuck in her hair, just beneath a pearled and petaled barrette. “There’s someone there. In the water.”
There was. Survivors were everywhere. Some still in their boats. Those that were farther out when Tyler’s car struck. Others in the water. Some surfacing and swimming for shore. Others floundering and yelling for help.
“Ant?! Where’s Antoinette?!!” yelled Mrs Cap as she rushed toward the lake .
Romeo ran the length of the party, dodging and dancing around every obstacle - a flipped chair, an old man with a busted up knee, a tattered tablecloth trashed and torn from the car’s tires. He dashed down the dock and dove into the water. Quickly others followed.
A good portion of the party, men and women alike, were now involved in the rescue. Running into the water to help those that were struggling. Standing on shore to help those that were capable of wading out on their own. Still others were helping sort through the wreckage back by the bar and dance floor. Doing whatever they could.
At least a half dozen people were furiously dialing 911. Another half dozen thankless idiots were simply standing around, with their phones out. Recording what they saw in the hopes of posting it asap to the book, the chat and the gram.
Gotta get those likes…
