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MERCY
“It’s stuck,” I huff out loud after fighting with the gate repeatedly. I glance back over my shoulder in search of the guys, but they’re nowhere to be found. It’s up to me to sort this out.
“Any ideas?” I ask Buck, just in case she’d like to take up speaking English right around now. She doesn’t. But she does have enough grace and sense to remain calm despite my increasing insanity. “I think I’m going in,” I say with as much resolve as I can muster. I don’t see any other way to find out what’s keeping the gate from opening unless I get down to ground level and feel it out for myself. I just hope it’s not a body of some sort.
I shudder. I really wish my brain didn’t come up with visuals I can’t unsee.
“Alright. Here goes.” I slide my leg over Buck’s backside and glide down into the water, gripping the saddle tightly until I’m so far in I have no choice but to start swimming. The water’s too deep for me to touch down and I’ve never wished more to not be so damn tiny.
Feeling my way along the gate it doesn’t take long to find the issue. A large tin water trough has been wedged into it and there’s no way I can move it on my own. Thankfully, I won’t have to.
Quickly, I undo the rope tied to my saddle and loop the end around the horn. Then, I move through water back to the gate to find a way to tie rope around the trough. It’s a struggle, but eventually, I manage to get it into place.
“You’re up, Buck,” I tell her, holding onto her as I encourage her to back up. It’s not easy for her, but she keeps trying. “Come on, you can do this, girl.” On the other side of the gate, the horses are anxiously thrashing about, sensing their impending freedom.
At last, the trough gives way and gets caught in the water, moving out of the way with ease. I hurry to unlatch the rope and get back to the gate. Without any other obstacles it should open now.
“Back,” I wave my hands, shouting with as much authority as I can conjure trying to get the frantic herd to move so I can push the gate open for them, but they’re too wound up to see reason.
There’s no way I’m getting them to clear the area from my side, so, already in the water, I do the thing Frank would definitely tell me not to, and climb over the gate into their midst.
One wrong move and they could crush me, or drown me, but I don’t have time to go track down the guys and start all over again. The newfound energy the horses are feeling is no more than a surge of adrenaline pumping through them as they try to grasp their last chance of survival. It won’t last. And neither will they. Unless I do something.
The horses take notice of my presence among them, but it only seems to wind them up more. I grab the withers of the bay blocking the gate and pull myself onto his back. I’m guessing of course, but he looks like a he. “Come on, boy,” I coax him, pressing into his sides with my calves. “Come on, back up.” He doesn’t give in easily, but after a few rounds, he starts to cooperate, moving away from the gate inch by inch, and thus moving the others out of the way as well.
As soon as I’m at the edge, I stretch my fingers out for the iron gate, and start to pull back. Buck, who’s been patiently waiting for me to get back to her, seems to understand my efforts instantly, and steps forward, pushing it open from her side. As soon as the path clears, I lose all control of the bay and he thrusts himself forward, his survival instincts pushing him to find dry land to stand on.
The jolt of his movement, and the pull of the water are enough to make me lose my grip and next thing I know, I’m under water, the commotion of horses swimming past all around me.
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FRANK
It doesn’t take Wade and me long to clear the barn. Thankfully, everyone inside survived. Behind it, the field is set against a hill, high enough to break the water and give everyone dry land to rest on. The animals, everything from pygmy goats to cattle, follow their instincts straight for it and we do our best to just stay out of the way.
“Where are the Pruitts?” Wade says, eyes searching the property. “Jake and Mandy...Why aren’t they out here already?”
I’ve been wondering the same thing myself. I expected them to need help, but I didn’t expect them to be gone. “Think they evacuated?” I ask, glancing up toward the house.
“No way. They’d never leave all the animals behind.”
That reminds me.
“Mercy. Where is she?” I turn Dash back toward the driveway, eager to turn the corner of the barn and see what’s keeping her. She should have been able to free those horses by now.
As soon as the front pastures are in view, I see them. The small herd, wading through the high water, but at least no longer needing to swim. All except Buck, who’s still near the gate. Alone.
“Mercy!” I shout, urging Dash to speed up. “Mercy!”
I can hear Wade coming up behind me, but I don’t wait. There’s no time.
There’s no moving fast in this water, and the ache of waiting to reach her spreads like burning lead through my chest.
Then, the water breaks, her red hair rises out of the splash and I can hear her gasping for air.
My heart pounds frantically against my rib cage even as I watch her swim toward Buck and pull herself back into her saddle, as though nothing out of the ordinary transpired in the last few seconds where time stood still and my entire universe was on the verge of collapsing.
“What the hell happened?” I demand still moving toward her. She looks up, clearly surprised to see me coming for her.
“There were problems with the last gate,” she answers, spitting water and wringing out her hair. “But I solved them.”
“You should have called for help,” I insist, my breath slowly finding a more manageable rhythm again as it sweeps in and out of my lungs in painful drags.
“I didn’t need help,” she says stiffly, finally reaching my side. “Meanwhile, where are the Pruitts?”
I sigh, surrendering the topic for the time being. “Wade and I were wondering that too. Just about to head up to the house to check on them when I noticed you were missing.”
“I wasn’t missing,” she reiterates her former argument. “Now that you can see that for yourself, can we get on with finding Jake and Mandy? Something could be seriously wrong. They could be hurt. Or trapped...or worse.”
All things I’m aware of. “Follow Wade.” He’s still closest to the house, and now that there’s no pressing need to join us, he’s prepared to turn around and get back to finding the Pruitts.
A new task to focus on helps Mercy and I go back to doing the thing we silently agreed to do the moment our paths crossed again today—ignore each other to the fullest extent possible.
At first glance, the house is completely boarded up, and while a great deal of it is under water, the second story remains dry enough to provide safe shelter to anyone inside. At least, in a temporary capacity. Unlike many others in the area, they wouldn’t have to have had to seek out their roof just to keep from going under.
“Over here!” Wade shouts from the backside of the house.
I’m barely there when I see it. A tree came down, crashed through half the structure, only we couldn’t see it from the other side.
Wade and I work as fast as we can, getting to the house, climbing the wreckage to get inside. Then, I catch Mercy trying to follow. “No! You stay with the horses!”
“I can help you!” she insists, but I don’t want to hear it. I won’t be able to think clearly if I’m worrying about her too.
“You can help by staying put. We might need you to go for backup. If the house starts to crash in on itself, we can’t all be trapped inside.” It’s enough to make her see reason and she falls back.
The deeper we go into the structure, the worse it is. Damage from the water and fallen tree are just the half of it. Black stains up and down the walls show signs of a fire, probably electrical before the power went completely. The carpets are ripped to shreds by animals who were wrought with such desperation, they tried to claw their way out by any means necessary.
“Hello?” Wade calls into the wreckage. “Mandy? Jake?”
We pause, neither of us making a move out of fear even the slightest noise might muffle a call for help.
“Anyone here?” I try when no one answers.
“Down here,” a faint cry reaches us from below. It’s Mandy. “Jake is trapped. I can’t get him out.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, though it’s short lived. They’re alive, but they’re far from safe.
The farther we move, the more we see evidence of those who didn’t make it. Small critters they kept in the main house thinking it’d be safest here. I avert my eyes, unable to stomach the sight. Animals have always tugged at my heartstrings more than most people ever could.
When we reach them, things turn out to be more dire than we even imagined. Jake is trapped under a collapsed wall, most of his body under water. He’s unconscious but breathing, thanks to his wife who’s steadily holding his head above water. Even though she’s not trapped, she’s covered in blood smears, judging from the rips in her clothing, her own wounds are the source.
“I knew you would come,” she breathes, tears glistening in her hollowed eyes. She’s exhausted, probably been sitting here holding Jake since last night.
Wade and I exchange a silent glance. It’s a big job, one we really should have help for, but there’s no time. God only knows the shape Jake is really in under all this rubble. So, we get to work. Neither of us says much to the other. Both of us are practiced in being partners to the other, so we work in near perfect unison, as though we can anticipate what the other will do.
Before long, we’re down to the main slab of drywall pinning Jake into place. Wade looks to me. I’ve got the better angle from where I’m standing. “You lift and I get Jake?” he verbalizes the plan we’re both thinking.
“On three.”
Wade nods and lowers himself into place. I do the same. Then he begins the count. “One. Two.” I dig into my heels, getting myself sturdy for the push. “Three.”
We both press into action. “You got him?” I call out, unable to see what’s happening beneath the wall.
“Almost.” There’s more noise. Debris being shoved. Water splashing. “He’s out!”
As carefully as I can, I let things fall back into place. “How bad is he?” I ask, hurrying to help Wade figure out the next steps in getting Jake and Mandy out of here.
Wade doesn’t say anything out loud, but his expression is grim enough to fill in the silence.
I turn to Mandy, who can’t help but keep fussing over her husband even when there’s no real action she can take to help him. “We’ve got horses and another rider just outside. Can you lead the way back out? Wade and I will follow with Jake.”
She nods, a quiet whimper passing her lips as she does. I watch her slide her loose strands of hair behind her ears, then wipe her hands on her pants before she starts on the climb back to the outside world.
Jake is heavy, and it’s hard trying to keep him steady as we move, but we keep our steps small, careful to place our weight only where the structure is secure.
I can hear Mandy crying under her breath as we pass by more of the wreckage that used to be her home and safe haven, and I hate myself for not getting here sooner. For not doing more.
“Mandy!” I hear Mercy cry out from where we left her. “Oh my God!’” The sound of her feet moving over the collapsed roof follows as she hurries to reach Mandy and help her out into the open.
Once outside, the next obstacle is finding a way to get Jake out of here and to a hospital. Thankfully, this is the sort of obstacle Wade is good at overcoming. Within minutes, he’s rigged up a floating cot out of ropes and tin roofing no longer attached to the former pump house, and we lay Jake flat out across the surface, before we mount our horses and pull it out behind us.
Mandy doubles up with Mercy, both of them silent for the duration of the ride back into town. After the storm, cell service is still spotty and hard to come by and it’s not until we cross paths with Bryce making the rounds where roads are accessible, that we’re able to call for an ambulance and get Jake the help he really needs.
“Think he’ll be okay?” Mercy asks. Her question doesn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular, so I let Wade take it. Not like either of us really have an answer to it anyway. We’re all just guessing, hoping, wishful thinking.
“Jake’s tough. There’s no way he made it through everything, waiting for help to get there, just to dip out now. He’ll be fine, you’ll see,” he assures her just as I expected he would.
Her gaze drifts forward, and I’m certain her mind is running off into a million different directions because it’s too dark out to see much of anything ahead anymore. Even with the flashlights we brought, visibility is extremely limited. “How many others are still out there waiting?” she says softly. This time, neither Wade nor I try to answer her. It’s a question we’ve all been asking ourselves.
The fairgrounds are quiet when we arrive, a few of our crew are still moving about getting their horses settled, but it doesn’t take long to determine we’re the last ones back. At least there’s one less thing to worry about tonight.
“Thanks for letting me ride out with you guys,” Mercy says as she and I approach my trailer with our horses. “I know you could have easily said no and no one else would have gone to bat for me.”
“We need all the help we can get out here,” I mutter, sliding the saddle from Dash’s back, purposely avoiding eye contact with her. “You can just tie Buck here. I’ll get her settled for the night.” It won’t take much to do and I’d just as soon be alone than be alone with her.
But for some inexplicable reason, she’s less motivated to put space between us. “It’s no problem. Besides, I like this part. It’s calming. Peaceful even. And after this afternoon, I could use some peace and simplicity.”
“Suit yourself.” Nothing simple about the two of us, standing here, feet apart, after almost eleven years. Why she can’t see that, I don’t know. Or maybe it just never mattered to her the way it did to me. Maybe I never mattered. Hell, we were just kids. What we shared back then probably doesn’t look like much beyond a childhood crush to her these days. Maybe it’s time I started seeing things from that perspective too.
“I heard your dad went by The Rose,” she says, her back to me while she brushes her mare. “I really appreciate him doing that.”
“I’m sure he was happy to. Nettie was like family to him, to all of us. No way he wouldn’t have gone out there to check on her place.” Try as I might, I can’t keep from watching her. The years she’s been gone have changed us both. We’ve grown up. There’s no trace left of the girl I knew, she’s blossomed into a woman, a person I don’t even know. And yet, the way she moves, the way her wild red hair sways against her back, the gentle ways in which she whispers to the horses, they’re so deeply familiar to me, it’s like a piece of my numbed heart has chipped free and come back to life right before my eyes even after all this time.
“Some days I still can’t believe she’s gone,” she says, her voice overcome with emotion at the mention of her grandmother.
“She’d have been real proud of you today,” I tell her, smiling despite my every effort not to succumb to her magic, “You did real good out there, Red.”
She turns, tears sparkling in her emerald eyes. She smiles. And I’m completely done for.