For an instant I saw the concrete walls of the flood control channel sailing by in the headlights. Then all too soon, a bone-jarring impact, an explosion of sound, blackness.
I don’t know how long I was out. When I came to, I thought for a moment that I had been blinded — it was pitch black. I hurt like hell all over — but my right side was killing me. The left side of my head throbbed, and I couldn’t even figure out what I had hit it on. I could hear the roar of water rushing by me. Jimmy Grant was groaning and pleading for help. I had no idea where he was. I had no idea where I was. I had never felt such an utterly complete sense of disorientation.
My eyes began adjusting to the darkness — no, not adjusting. The moon was coming out. But my perspective on my surroundings seemed odd to me. Gradually, I realized that the van had landed on its side in the channel, blowing out the windows and headlights with the impact. I was covered with bits of glass, suspended above the water by my seat belt, which was pressing painfully into my right hip and my chest. I felt for and found the steering wheel, gripping it to ease some of the pressure from the belt. I straightened my legs, bracing my feet against the floorboard to help as well.
It was then that I got my first look at Jimmy Grant. His face was a bloody mess, and it was the only part of him that was above water. A mask, eyes wide with fright. “Help me,” he said. I was still dazed, and couldn’t figure out at first what was wrong. Then I saw that he was being pressed against the seat by the force of the current, and that he had somehow tangled himself in his seat belt. The moon went behind a cloud, and I lost sight of him.
I tried reaching down to him with my right hand. He must have somehow worked a hand free, because I felt his left hand grasp on to mine, skin chilled and wet. “Help,” he said again, as if he expected none.
I pulled him up a little farther. The water was cold, and he had heavier clothes on than I did. They were weighing him down. Debris from the channel, sticks and old beer cans and small stones were coming in through the windshield, striking hard against him.
“I can’t,” he said weakly. “I can’t hang on.”
The moon came out again and I took another look at him. With horror, I saw that his right arm was almost completely severed. He had to be losing a lot of blood from it. His grip was weakening, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold him by myself. Panic filled his face. Suddenly a large dark object rocketed against him; there was a loud cracking sound as it rammed into his head with an awful force. A tree limb, I realized, as it spun back out into the current. He suddenly released his grip and fell back into the water, his head at an odd angle.
There was a creaking sound, and I felt the van move. Every few minutes, objects from the channel would bang against it. Fearing the kind of blow I had just seen kill Jimmy Grant, I used every ounce of strength I had to pull myself back up away from the water. I had to get out.
The driver’s-side window above me was broken, but jagged edges made me loath to try to go through it. I tried opening the door. It wouldn’t budge. I’d have better luck with the window. I took my jacket off slowly, afraid that if I moved too much I’d end up in the water with Jimmy Grant.
Finally it was off. I covered my arm with it, awkwardly bracing myself as best I could, and smashed out the remaining pieces of glass. For a moment, I thought I heard a voice, but it was lost in the roar of the water. I shouted back, hoping someone could hear me over the noise.
Now I faced a dilemma. If I loosened the seat belt, and didn’t have the strength to pull myself out, I’d fall into the channel. If I didn’t, the belt would continue to hold me to the seat, but I’d never be able to crawl out of the window.
I gripped the edge of the window sill with one arm, and loosened the belt. My legs braced me for a moment, and I put the other hand up. I tried to push myself up. I slipped. In one arm-wrenching motion, I was left hanging, my arms above me, my legs in the cold water, the rest of me getting splashed with it. My headache was suddenly galloping through my skull. There was something soft beneath my feet. With alarm, I realized it was Jimmy Grant.
The horror of standing on him brought a surge of energy to me. I used my legs to scramble up on to the console between the seats and out of the water. I rested a moment, then straightened my legs. Gradually, pulling with my arms and pushing with my feet, I managed to get myself through the window. Sick and dizzy, I crawled out on to the side of the van.
I lay there shivering, utterly exhausted. I heard my name.
“Irene!” I rolled on to my side and looked over at the bank. Frank was standing there.
I waved a tired arm at him.
“Are you okay?” he shouted.
“I’m okay!” I shouted back, even though it made my head hurt.
“Stay there, help is coming.”
Stay there. I wanted to laugh. I guess he thought I would try swimming ashore. I could barely move. Even if I had the strength, I knew not to try it.
Frank was pacing the bank like a tiger in a cage. I could tell he wanted to do something, was frustrated.
“Relax!” I shouted.
I could hear him laugh. A nice sound.
Soon I also heard sirens. Red lights pulsed as police and emergency vehicles pulled up. Spotlights were turned on and aimed at the van.
A helicopter arrived. They lowered a man down, who wrapped me in the welcome warmth of a big blanket. He helped me into a harness, and I was taken up into the hovering helicopter.
I was a little pissed off that my first helicopter ride was such a short one, but I was anxious to reach Frank and reassure him. Paramedics stepped in before I could do much along those lines. They talked about taking me to the hospital, but I managed to convince them that I wasn’t suffering anything worse than bruises and a headache.
The rescue workers had warmed me up again with more blankets and warm liquids. I was battered but lucid, no longer suffering the worst part of the coldwater soaking. Eventually I answered questions from some of Frank’s coworkers. They seemed to believe they’d know where to find me if they had more questions. I didn’t want to stick around to watch Jimmy being taken from the water.
