By dawn we’re up and moving again in spite of the effort it costs just to rise. Neither of us mentions what was said last night. There’s nothing more to add. Like all the days before, and doubtless the ones to come, we grow quieter as the heat becomes more oppressive, soon stopping altogether to conserve our strength. It’s about noon, I think, when what I’ve been dreading happens.
“Finn. Stop.” Amy pants, bent double over her knees.
“What? What’s … what’s wrong?”
“I can’t-I can’t do this. Anymore. I can’t- I can’t go –on.” She whimpers, on the verge of collapse. I catch her before she falls.
“Yes you can. You-you have to. Don’t-do … this. Come on. Don’t leave me. Like this.”
I hold her tight to me, wishing I could give her the little strength I have left. There’s no way I’m leaving her behind. I never would have made it this far without her, and I won’t make it another mile alone.
Her eyes are shut tight, her chest heaves. I can feel her heart pounding frantically against mine. She goes suddenly limp in my arms, not responding when I call her name. A lump of fear clogs my throat.
“Amy! Amy, you … gotta wake up. Please. Please don’t-don’t go to sleep. Not. Yet. Please. Oh God. Please! Wake up!”
She stays lifeless even as I shake her gently. Frantic, I kiss her forehead, pleading again and again in vain. Her skin is burning hot and dry to the touch, and it’s not from the sun. If anything, she should have been sweating buckets in this heat. I panic. She can’t die! She can’t! I have to get her out of here and to a doctor, somehow, even if it kills me. I don’t care any more. All that matters is Amy. I promised.
I pick her up gently, bridal style, cradling her head against my shoulder, giving her what shade I can with my body.
“C’mon, Amy, wake up! Remember the pool? I’m-I’m gonna get you there. And … the water … and lemonade. Ice Cream, Amy … bucket-bucket loads. But you gotta … wake up, now!”
Hoping against hope, knowing it won’t do any good, I let out a shout.
“Help! Somebody! Help me! Anybody! Please!”
The canyon echoes my plea, over and over, until I can’t stand the sound of my own voice any more. In a way, I should have known from the start that this would happen. What chance did we ever have of making it out alive? We’re going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve never felt so helpless before, and I hate it. I don’t even have the strength left to yell again. I put everything I had left into that cry. And then, a miracle.
At first I figure I must be hallucinating, my mind playing tricks on me to keep me from going off the edge. But no. There it is again, I’m sure of it this time. On the horizon, just above the cliffs, a cloud of dust, metal objects shining. Hope surges in my chest, giving me back my energy, pushing me forward.
“Down here! We’re down here! Help us!” I shout, stumbling forward. “We’re saved, Amy. We’re going home, I promise.” I whisper, not daring to doubt myself. A faint shape appears, arms waving.
“Stay where you are! We’ll come to you!”
I’m so relieved I could sob with joy. They found us! They’re really coming. There’s nothing quite like going from utter despair to utter hope, if there even is such a thing.
I shut my eyes as the wind from a helicopter hits my face, pushing away the awful heat for one blessed second. I haven’t felt so much as a breeze in days, and the feeling is a glorious one. The dust swirling up around me doesn’t matter anymore, though a minute ago it scorched my lungs and made me cough. Judging by the cloud of it, at least two, maybe three vehicles are on their way down. Any second now I’ll hear the sirens of police cars and ambulances. Medics will help Amy, take her to a hospital.
I frown, opening my eyes suddenly. Why can’t I hear them yet? The cars are close enough now that even with the roar of the chopper I should be able to. Where are the red and blue lights? Surely the police would be all guns blazing by now, making as much noise as possible? A sick feeling of fear makes my stomach clench. Oh God, I pray, let it be the authorities. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let him have found us. Not now.
But it is. I can see him clearly as they surround us, cutting off escape. I have to fight the urge to throw up what little I have in me. After all we’ve been through, after everything we did to get away. It’s not fair.
He steps out of the truck confidently, a sneer of triumph plastered on his face.
“Hey Finny. Miss me?”
He laughs then, a low, chuckling sound, like an alligator gurgling. He laughed like that the first time we saw him, when he had us stuffed in the back of a van, scared out of our wits. Amy called him the Crocodile then. We never learned his real name, so it stuck. It’s impressive how well it fits him at this very moment.
“Finn. Stop.” Amy pants, bent double over her knees.
“What? What’s … what’s wrong?”
“I can’t-I can’t do this. Anymore. I can’t- I can’t go –on.” She whimpers, on the verge of collapse. I catch her before she falls.
“Yes you can. You-you have to. Don’t-do … this. Come on. Don’t leave me. Like this.”
I hold her tight to me, wishing I could give her the little strength I have left. There’s no way I’m leaving her behind. I never would have made it this far without her, and I won’t make it another mile alone.
Her eyes are shut tight, her chest heaves. I can feel her heart pounding frantically against mine. She goes suddenly limp in my arms, not responding when I call her name. A lump of fear clogs my throat.
“Amy! Amy, you … gotta wake up. Please. Please don’t-don’t go to sleep. Not. Yet. Please. Oh God. Please! Wake up!”
She stays lifeless even as I shake her gently. Frantic, I kiss her forehead, pleading again and again in vain. Her skin is burning hot and dry to the touch, and it’s not from the sun. If anything, she should have been sweating buckets in this heat. I panic. She can’t die! She can’t! I have to get her out of here and to a doctor, somehow, even if it kills me. I don’t care any more. All that matters is Amy. I promised.
I pick her up gently, bridal style, cradling her head against my shoulder, giving her what shade I can with my body.
“C’mon, Amy, wake up! Remember the pool? I’m-I’m gonna get you there. And … the water … and lemonade. Ice Cream, Amy … bucket-bucket loads. But you gotta … wake up, now!”
Hoping against hope, knowing it won’t do any good, I let out a shout.
“Help! Somebody! Help me! Anybody! Please!”
The canyon echoes my plea, over and over, until I can’t stand the sound of my own voice any more. In a way, I should have known from the start that this would happen. What chance did we ever have of making it out alive? We’re going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve never felt so helpless before, and I hate it. I don’t even have the strength left to yell again. I put everything I had left into that cry. And then, a miracle.
At first I figure I must be hallucinating, my mind playing tricks on me to keep me from going off the edge. But no. There it is again, I’m sure of it this time. On the horizon, just above the cliffs, a cloud of dust, metal objects shining. Hope surges in my chest, giving me back my energy, pushing me forward.
“Down here! We’re down here! Help us!” I shout, stumbling forward. “We’re saved, Amy. We’re going home, I promise.” I whisper, not daring to doubt myself. A faint shape appears, arms waving.
“Stay where you are! We’ll come to you!”
I’m so relieved I could sob with joy. They found us! They’re really coming. There’s nothing quite like going from utter despair to utter hope, if there even is such a thing.
I shut my eyes as the wind from a helicopter hits my face, pushing away the awful heat for one blessed second. I haven’t felt so much as a breeze in days, and the feeling is a glorious one. The dust swirling up around me doesn’t matter anymore, though a minute ago it scorched my lungs and made me cough. Judging by the cloud of it, at least two, maybe three vehicles are on their way down. Any second now I’ll hear the sirens of police cars and ambulances. Medics will help Amy, take her to a hospital.
I frown, opening my eyes suddenly. Why can’t I hear them yet? The cars are close enough now that even with the roar of the chopper I should be able to. Where are the red and blue lights? Surely the police would be all guns blazing by now, making as much noise as possible? A sick feeling of fear makes my stomach clench. Oh God, I pray, let it be the authorities. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let him have found us. Not now.
But it is. I can see him clearly as they surround us, cutting off escape. I have to fight the urge to throw up what little I have in me. After all we’ve been through, after everything we did to get away. It’s not fair.
He steps out of the truck confidently, a sneer of triumph plastered on his face.
“Hey Finny. Miss me?”
He laughs then, a low, chuckling sound, like an alligator gurgling. He laughed like that the first time we saw him, when he had us stuffed in the back of a van, scared out of our wits. Amy called him the Crocodile then. We never learned his real name, so it stuck. It’s impressive how well it fits him at this very moment.