April 2018
Katharine Boudreaux steered her car the best she could down Main Street. She should have gotten a ride. Called a taxi. An Uber. Anything. She rolled down her window. The wind in her face helped. She turned onto Bridge Street. One more bridge and she’d be home.
Her cell dinged in the seat next to her.
She reached for it, couldn’t quite grasp it.
She leaned over farther. Her fingers grazed the case.
She looked down for a second, but when she glanced back up, she was headed not onto the bridge but straight for the side of it.
She hit the brakes, or so she thought. The car lurched forward, hitting the side rail and catapulting Katharine’s car over the side.
Katharine didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious when her eyes fluttered open. Something had woken her. A flash of light.
Blood trickled down her face. It was quiet except for the sound of water lapping against the car.
But her car was only partially submerged.
She must have landed on the bank. She tried the door handle.
It was stuck. She pounded on the window.
And that’s when she saw him. A man standing beside the car, staring in at her. She screamed.
“Hang on,” he yelled. “Lean away from the window.”
Katharine did as he said. A second later the window shattered. Katharine gasped as tears ran down her cheeks. “Oh my God. Thank you!” This man would know what to do. She couldn’t believe her luck.
Katharine fumbled for her seat belt. The man leaned in through the window. “Let me help.”
That’s when she felt something sting the side of her neck. She yelped and raised her hand to the spot.
“What . . .” Katharine felt woozy. Her tongue too thick to form words. She was completely incapacitated.
Then the man held something up. “Let’s do another one with your eyes open. Say cheese.” A light flashed again.
Katharine’s eyes fell shut. She heard her phone buzzing somewhere close.
But she never got to answer it.