Sophie Oak: Chasing Bliss

Cade stopped. What was he doing? Charging in when he didn’t even have a gun. Hadn’t he fucked up enough? Did he just have to keep on doing it?

Cade sank to his knees in the soft dirt. He could smell the river, hear it rushing by. He was miles from the river he’d nearly lost his life in, but he’d never really left it. He’d pretended to walk around and to smile and party and play all of life’s little games, but the best part of him had died that day.

He was back there. Eight years old and pissed off at the world because Annie always got all the attention. Annie was on drill team and got to be in the homecoming court, and who gave a shit about that? He’d come up with a plan. Annie got everything and he got nothing, so he’d left. Packed up his Power Rangers backpack and left.

He hadn’t counted on the rain. He hadn’t counted on the storms that seemed to shake the whole earth that night. And he hadn’t counted on his parents and Annie rushing to get him even though the storm should have kept them at home.

God. He’d killed them all because he was a brat who couldn’t handle his sister’s success. And she had nothing but a grave because he’d walked out.

He put his hands over his eyes. If Gemma died, nothing would matter. He should have been with her. He should have taken the bullet Jesse had taken. Jesse was the good one.

It was a weak sound that penetrated his ear. Like a shout from a muffled horn.

Cade brought his head up. Maybe he’d just imagined it.

Nate walked out of the woods, his walkie-talkie in his hands. “Yeah, I’m going to need another bus. Don’t hurry. He’s a corpse. Henry Flanders says he tripped. No. I don’t have eyes on Gemma. It looks like she ran. No blood trail.”

Gemma got away?

There it was again. That weird sound. It was coming from his left. From the river.

“Cade, why don’t you head home and check to see if Gemma ran back there. Patrick Welch is dead. He didn’t have time to hide a body, and Henry says this whole episode lasted less than five minutes. She’s gotta be hoofing it home.”

Home. Gemma wouldn’t go home. Gemma might lead a killer away from Jesse, but she would never run home when he was dying.

A third strangled sound was heard.

“Is that an air horn?” Nate asked. “Do we have kayakers in trouble? Who the hell gets on the river in the fall? It’s damn cold.”

But Cade just took off running because he knew who it was. Gemma. Gemma, his always-prepared, had-a-purse-bigger-than-a-damn-drugstore baby, was in the river, and she was calling for help. For him.

He’d lost his life in a river in Florida. He’d clung to a tree limb, survival his only goal. He’d gone into the river a bratty little kid and what they pulled out had been a zombie, a body that moved through life but didn’t feel it.

Nancy cracked his shell, but he’d betrayed her.

Jesse wormed his way in.

Gemma. Gemma made him want to live again.

He saw it. A little white horn shining in the moonlight. She was under the water, her arm in the air, begging for help.

Without a second thought, he dove in. He hadn’t swum in years, his fear of the water so strong, but his parents had forced him to learn before and that training didn’t go away.

His parents. His sister. Nancy, his not-mom who had loved him. They weren’t ghosts who weighed him down. They’d loved him. He’d screwed up, but he hadn’t meant to. He’d been a child. But a man went into the water this time. A man who loved a woman. A man who wouldn’t come out again unless she was in his arms, whole and alive.

The water hit his system like an out-of-control freight train coming straight from the arctic. His skin burned where the water touched it, but the moon was high in the sky and the water was clear. He could see her.

She was caught and failing. Her foot had slipped between the branches of a log. She’d twisted and turned until she couldn’t move, trapped in a deadly little puzzle.

Her head came up, her eyes flaring with panic. She reached for him. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull, but she was well stuck. He pulled harder. And then again. Nothing. He was ready to pull her foot off. He didn’t give a shit. He’d carry her around, but she had to get out of here. She was panicking. She refused to let go. She was dragging him down.

His lungs were burning so she must be drowning. He braced himself against the log and pulled again with every ounce of strength he had. If she stayed here, he would, too. He would hold on and drown with her. He pulled until his lungs felt like they would explode and then Gemma moved, her body pulling free.

Another body entered the water, white washing all around. There was a great whoosh, the sound filling his ears. He clutched her, trying to get to the surface. Big hands came out, pulling at Gemma’s body.

Cam. Cam was an athlete. Cam would take her. Cam could get her out.

Cade’s job was done. He let her go. Cam immediately pulled her to the surface.

Cade tried to follow, but he was stuck. The whole river was alive with things that pulled a person under. The river was hungry. Wanting.

And it was all right. Gemma was okay. Jesse would live. Cade could give in.

Or he could finally fucking fight. He’d spent too many years waiting for this. Longing for this. He’d waited for the water to take him. So easy. He wouldn’t have to fight. Wouldn’t have to hurt.

And he wouldn’t be able to love.

Cade pulled, struggling. His pants were caught. Gemma was above. He should be above. He needed to be with Gemma. With Jesse. With his family.

His lungs were depleted. He couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t done. He wanted Gemma. He wanted that family they could have. He wouldn’t leave her alone. He would have his future. He would live.

There was another great white rush. Cam. His hand came out, reaching for him. Cade grabbed his hand and together they pulled. His jeans tore and he was free.

He broke the surface, the cold washing over him. Life rushed at him as he crawled up the bank.

“We have her back. Breath sounds are good.” Ty’s voice broke through the quiet. There was the beautiful sound of coughing. “Let’s move her. Get her to the hospital.”

Cade let his head rest back. He was half frozen, but it didn’t matter. Gemma was good. And he was alive.

Cam stared down at him. “Are you all right, man?”

Cade nodded. He was all right. He was fine. They were alive. His little family was safe.

He sat by Gemma’s bed, dreaming.

This time was different. He was in the river. He was eight, but he was calm. The water surrounded him, but he knew. He would survive.

His sister wouldn’t. He turned in his seat, no longer eight years old, but a man who could look at her with mature eyes. He’d made a child’s mistake, and he missed his sister. He wished she’d lived, but she would have hated the way he’d stumbled through life. Annie had taken it in both hands and not stopped until she’d drained it dry. Like Gemma. Annie would have adored Gemma.

He turned his head, the moonlight illuminating Annie’s face. Where always she’d been panicked, now there was a small smile on her face. Her light brown hair floated around her, giving her a halo. His sweet sister. His angel. Why had he ever thought she’d want him to stay down here with her?

She reached for him, not to drag him down, but to touch him one last time. His parents were there, reaching for him, too, a final good-bye. And Nancy with her gentle smile. She’d taught him how to cook. She’d brought him together with his best friend.

He stayed there for a moment, the river now not such a terrible place to be. His former family was here. But he couldn’t stay because all his tomorrows were above, in the air with Gemma and Jesse.