Chapter 1 #3
“And be careful,” he adds. “I’m not trying to be bossy. It’s just dark and rainy and the roads are slick—” He frowns again. “If anyone in the car gets aggressive, just call out.”
“Aggressive?” That’s the last thing I’d imagine from someone bleeding and in need of first aid.
“Yes. If they’re scared, panicked, in pain… sometimes they can lash out.” His gaze holds mine. “I’ve seen it before. Especially with head injuries. Just… be careful.”
Some of my irritation fades. And I find myself reaching out to touch his arm, in spite of myself. “You too.”
He lifts his chin, making a similar gesture to the one I used to see Vince and his teammates use. “I will.”
Then, by silent agreement, we both jog off in different directions. As I head towards the car off the road, he runs towards the rushing water. I glance after him, noticing the slightly uneven gait of his stride.
There’s something familiar about it, just like the nod he just gave me. But I don’t take the time to examine it. Instead, I shove everything extraneous off to the side in favor of helping the people in the car ahead.
Once I reach the damaged car, everything moves quickly.
I discover there’s a single passenger—the impatient driver, more specifically—and I focus on all the things I learned in the first aid class I took all those years ago.
I talk in low, calming tones to the frightened woman in the driver’s seat.
I tell her not to move, not because there’s necessarily anything wrong with her, but just to be safe.
I don the gloves in the medi-kit and press gauze pads to the bleeding cut on her arm.
I tell her about my dog, and she tells me about the puppy she just adopted, waiting for her back at home.
And every thirty seconds or so, I check on the man I met on the road.
Each time, I’m fearful that something happened to him—just normal concern, I remind myself, not because I felt this weird attraction to him that I haven’t since I met Vince.
And each time I spot him, still alive and apparently unharmed, I breathe a massive sigh of relief.
After five minutes, or ten, or maybe twenty, since time seems to have lost all meaning out here, I finally hear the welcome sound of sirens rising and falling. With them, flashing lights approach, lighting the road ahead of them.
When they finally arrive, the real chaos begins. As the police and paramedics take over, I’m shuttled away to give my statement to a harried-looking officer.
“There’s flooding all over the place,” he tells me. “Trees down, roads washed out… This is the worst storm we’ve had in years.”
As I’m trying to figure out a new route to Lake Placid, since I’m obviously not going this way anymore, the officer adds, “You’re going to want to head back to Long Lake, but I wouldn’t count on leaving until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. The bridge into town was damaged, so we’re not letting anyone through until it can be assessed. ”
“What about some of the roads that cut up to 30 further north?” I ask. “Can’t I backtrack and take one of them?”
He shakes his head solemnly. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Like I said, we’ve got trees down everywhere. And power lines. It’s just not safe.”
While I absorb the information, I sneak a quick look at the handsome, bossy, good samaritan, as I’ve nicknamed him, who’s talking to another officer, most likely giving his own statement.
At the same time, the handsome, bossy, good samaritan looks at me, and he lifts his chin again.
And I’m not sure why, but I can tell it’s not an acknowledgment, but a question.
Are you okay?
I nod back at him.
Yes. Are you?
He gives me a small smile in response.
And darn it, my heart stumbles because of it.
“Why don’t you head back into Long Lake,” the police officer says, oblivious to my silent communication with the handsome, bossy, good samaritan. “The Lakeside Inn should have some rooms available. Tell them you helped with the accidents on Route 30, and they’ll give you a discount.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I can’t just spontaneously stay in Long Lake for the night. That I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.
But then it hits me.
I could stay overnight. Put off this trip to Lake Placid I’ve been dreading for weeks with an actual, real excuse and not some lame one I made up because I’m chicken and end up feeling guilty about later.
I could have a little adventure, like I used to.
At this inn, no one knows who I am. No one knows my story. I’m just an anonymous guest, like any other. And just for tonight, I can be that person.
“Okay,” I reply, suddenly feeling much cheerier. “I’ll head into Long Lake. Thanks.”
The officer nods, but it’s not like the one the good samaritan gave me. It’s a nod that says he’s ready to move on. “Okay,” he replies, already taking a step away from me. “The road’s not too bad from here to there. Just take it slowly, and you should be fine.”
Before I can respond, he’s already striding off towards a small cluster of officers huddled near the ambulance. Inside the truck, the woman I spoke to is already waiting to be brought to the hospital. Paramedics are tending to the driver of the partially-submerged car just beside her.