Rick climbed through the opening and fell next to me in the sand. “The whole goddamn thing’s coming down right on top of us,” he gasped. “Keep moving!”
“There’s nowhere to go but down!”
Rick and I exchanged a quick, frantic glance. We were out of options.
With the sounds of destruction exploding around us, we ran as hard and fast as we could, right off the edge of the cliff.
I leapt, my fear of the ocean screeching in my ears as I clawed and kicked at the air in an attempt to straighten my body for the fall. I knew I had to hit feet-first or I’d be in trouble, but the moment I left the cliff I couldn’t be sure of anything. I closed my eyes, and all the air in my lungs left me in a single frenzied rush.
I remembered plummeting as if in a void. Time stopped, all sound ceased.
Until I felt the crash of impact on the bottoms of my feet and the rush of water as I plunged into the ocean.
I kicked reflexively and rose to the surface, but initially had no idea where I was or in which direction I was facing. I was swallowing a lot of water and knew I needed to fight the panic and relax to the extent that I was able. Once I had accomplished this I felt the waves carrying me, drawing me toward the beach.
I turned over, spinning toward shore. It came into view through the darkness then vanished beneath my line of sight as I bobbed along the surface. Still stunned and disoriented, I kicked my feet and swept my arms through the water, this time deliberately and to make sure they were still intact and functioning properly.
My legs brushed something solid, and I realized I was no longer floating but bouncing along the ocean floor with the balls of my feet. I climbed from the surf and flopped belly-down into a foamy pool of shallow water and moist sand breaking against the shore. I coughed out more water, wiped my eyes and face and forced myself up into a half-pushup. I could hear things crashing into the ocean, and saw debris raining down around me. Calling out for Rick, I jerked my head to the left then right, searching for him hysterically.
Across the narrow stretch of sand was the base of the cliffs. Safety. I rolled onto my knees and saw Rick tumble out of the ocean behind me, rolling lifelessly with the tide onto the beach.
Still gasping for breath, I crawled to him, put him on his back and dragged him away from the reach of waves. He came awake with a sudden, agonizing scream, and I noticed the sickening position of his lower body. His left leg was bent at an obviously unnatural angle, and a nub of thick bone with chunks of flesh dangling from it protruded through the torn pants on his right thigh. I had never seen a fracture so horrific but tried to downplay my reaction for Rick’s sake.
I pulled him the rest of the way and collapsed against the base of the cliff with his head and shoulders in my lap. I tried to find my breath as his screams subsided and became muffled sobs. “My legs,” he moaned. “Christ Almighty, my fucking legs.”
I held him tight, his wet hair against my chin and my arms wrapped around his chest. “Hang on, man. Hang on. I’m gonna get us out of here.”
He went limp, and for a moment I thought he’d died. But I felt his chest rise and fall. Though he’d only passed out I knew he had to get to a hospital, and fast. Police and fire personnel were more than likely already rushing to the scene, as the collapse of the building had surely rattled everything as far as downtown, and the disturbance in the ocean could easily be seen further down the coast, where the fireworks display had originated. But it would take them a while to locate us, and I wasn’t certain Rick could hold on that long. I’d have to get him out on my own. It would mean carrying him on my back along the water’s edge for nearly a mile. Once I reached the forest I could make the lesser climb then cross back to where we had left the Jeep. If I got lucky, someone might see us as I trudged along the waterline.
I looked out at the ocean. The ground had stopped shaking and although numerous small particles of debris still flickered about like swarms of flying insects, the massive portions of the mill that had fallen into the sea had now come to rest.
Exhausted, I allowed my eyes to close a moment.
As they opened, the moonlight revealed dark figures slowly breaking the surface of the waves, creeping toward shore, emerging from the surf and walking toward us like zombies, black eyes sparkling.
CHAPTER 37
I came awake with a start to find a young nurse gently shaking me by the shoulder. “Mr. Chance?”
“Yeah—yes.” My body was sore from head to toe, and the hard plastic chair I had fallen asleep in wasn’t helping. My clothes were filthy and still damp in places, and mud from my shoes had marred the waiting room floor.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” she said warmly. “Are you all right?”
A daytime talk show was playing silently on a small television in the corner, and in a chair across from me a middle-aged Hispanic woman sat nervously leafing through an old magazine. “Yes, sorry,” I said to the nurse. “I was just—I fell asleep.”
She smiled. “Mr. Brisco is out of surgery and awake.”
I struggled to my feet and followed her down a quiet hallway. “How is he?”
“He’s got a long road ahead of him in terms of physical therapy before he’ll walk again, and he may need further surgery at some point, but he’s doing miraculously well.” She stopped at an open doorway, motioned for me to enter then left us as I slipped into the room.
Rick lay in a bed against the wall. It didn’t seem possible he could be so seriously damaged.
I sat in a chair next to the bed. “Hey, man. How you feeling?”
He opened his eyes. He was pale, drawn and groggy, but his face brightened a bit when he saw me. “Well, there goes my fucking ballet career.”
I wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite summon one. “You’re going to be all right.”
“So they tell me. You OK?”
“Little banged up, but yeah.”
Without raising his head from the pillow he tried to take in as much of the room as he could. “Is it still night?”
“No, morning.” I checked my watch, still uncertain of how long I’d slept in the waiting room. “I called Donald. He’s on his way.”
His arm flopped onto the edge of the bed. He opened his hand, offering it to me. “You saved my life.”
I put my hand in his. He gripped it weakly.
“I must’ve hit shallow water, I don’t know what the hell happened.”
“We got lucky,” I said. “When the mill let go, police and rescue responded to check it out. By the time they got there I had us a ways up the beach. They saw us, thank God.”
He sighed faintly. “I’m all doped up, man. Can’t think straight yet.”
“It’s OK, just try to rest.”
His glassy eyes searched mine. “What’d you tell the cops?”
I checked behind me. The doorway was clear; we were still alone. “That we were up on the cliffs watching the fireworks,” I said quietly. “I told them we were a bit farther down the coast than we actually were, and when the mill collapsed it shook the cliffs. We were closer to the edge than we should’ve been, lost our balance and fell.”
“They buy it?”
“Yeah, no reason not to. Chalked it up as an accident and our own stupidity for being up there in the first place. They said they’d be by to talk to you about it. It’s no big deal, just a formality. Tell them the same thing and we’ll be all right.”
His thoughts seemed to wander elsewhere, and I saw fear rise in him then gradually recede. I was sure he’d sensed the same in me. “I saw him, you know. When I fell. Down in that hole, I saw him.” He motioned for me to come closer, so I leaned in. “He was biting me,” he whispered. His eyes filled with tears. “He was down there waiting for me and he—he—”