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I swerved, and the Jeep bounced on the rocks under us as we lost the road. The load of the truck blasted by like a train, loud and angry and not slowing down. BeLew held their ears and shut their eyes. We clipped once, just on the bumper’s edge, but enough to fly us around facing the other direction. The tires skidded backward as I let the wheel turn itself on the wet roads. We slid, the tires squealing while I pumped the brakes. The Jeep jolted to a stop, and the man groaned.
We were holding our breath as the truck kept on and then crashed into the wreckage ahead, the front of it barreling through cars and trees until the load turned. Lewis looked up, watching the whole thing. I wanted to cover his eyes, but I couldn’t move. I remained frozen in shock.
Then the entire truck skidded on its side, moving debris and shooting sparks into the night sky. It rolled three times until coming to its ultimate resting place, like a break in pool striking the first hit on the table, sending the rack flying. Everything in front of us had shifted in the blow. When the noise stopped, I inhaled, my chest burning from the lack of air.
“Shit,” Beau said.
Lewis giggled.
“Don’t say shit,” I mumbled.
The man remained still.
We could get through now.
“Shit, we can get through,” I gasped. Beau shot me a look, and I waved my hand at him repeating, “You still can’t say it.”
I drove forward at a trepidatious crawl.
Could we be that lucky?
It’s odd what you consider lucky when the world falls apart. I had cried when I found instant coffee a month ago scavenging. Tears of joy over shitty bean water and all the time feeling so lucky. This was better.
When we reached the rubble, I could see a clear path ahead. “BeLew,” I clipped. “Close your eyes, cover your ears, and put your heads in your laps. I’ll tell you when you can sit up and look.”
They followed orders without hesitation. They had seen worse, but I wanted to protect them from what carnage lie ahead. This was the last push. No one else could make it through this.
I focused on getting to the other side of the pile-up, never looking inside the surrounding cars. I had to shift gears a few times, gun the engine once, but it was mostly clear. The man didn’t move – didn’t groan again.
I looked up only once. The wheels of the destroyed eighteen-wheeler sprayed water as they continued to spin and I mouthed, “Thank you,” then drove onward, eyes forward toward our destination. His fatal decision saved our lives, but I couldn’t stop. Mothers make hard decisions, and we were out of time.
Lights appeared in the distance, and then noise. Glorious noise. How I missed the actual sounds of people and electricity. I had memorized Dean’s instructions, but my hands still shook on the steering wheel. I had printed his email, read it one hundred times, and let it drown in the flooding after the second storm.
Pull through to any gate that says division 00046. Use Ashley’s ID. She’s dead. They don’t know, and you look like her. Dye your hair black like her. Her file has two sons and a husband. They don’t have their names. They aren’t coming. The best lies come from the truth. Go by Rowan, say it’s a nickname. Use Beau and Lewis’s actual names. They honorably discharged you three years ago. You need to speak to Dean Riggs and then board the ship. Do not talk too much. All answers after your name should be that you need them to radio Dean Riggs. Say it on repeat, I need to speak to Dean Riggs. Please radio Dean Riggs. Look them in the eye when you talk. Tell the boys to fake sleeping. Remember the nuances I taught you - how to tell rank - who to salute - naturally carry in your left hand - all those little things. Good luck.
Military personnel stood in the streets, directing traffic. Everything was wet from rushing water that seemed to come from everywhere but the sky. The streets were busy but moving. Plywood boards with spray-painted numbers propped up against chicken wire gates.
00012, 00017, 00025, 00046
“It’s time,” I said to BeLew. They immediately went limp in each other’s arms, heads drooping, eyes closed, well-rehearsed. I pulled into our numbered gate. Two men went to each side of the Jeep. I looked at BeLew and my hands stopped trembling. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, but I willed myself to relax. Everything went in slow motion.
You can do this.
“Name,” one spit out.
“Officer Lawson, Ashley Rowan Lawson,” I responded.
“Who is in the vehicle?”
“My husband and children. Please radio Lieutenant Dean Riggs we have arrived.” It came out without my thinking. Everything had been so planned out, yet I had forgotten a cover story for the bonus body we had picked up along the way. One of them pulled out a radio and started the channel. It sounded like static from where I sat, but I heard them say my name through the speaker.
Ashley had a husband. You are fine.
“We need everyone’s name,” one repeated.
“Beau and Lewis. My husband is S-Samuel. Please radio Lieutenant Dean Riggs,” I ordered again.
“We are. Once you are endorsed, please pull up to the red lights.”
