Redemption Mountain (61 page)

The seat belt sign lit up. Charlie finished his drink and watched the curling snakes of water move across the small window at his shoulder. There was nothing but blackness below, down where Natty and the Bones were headed back to Red Bone.

*   *   *

T
HE BUS LURCHED
with a noisy downshift of the gears. Natty struggled to go back to sleep, but after a few seconds a strange sound made her straighten up in her seat. She twisted around to survey the interior of the dark bus, but there was no movement anywhere. Across the aisle, Gabe was asleep with his head on Emma's shoulder, while she was curled up close to the window.

The bus swerved, and Natty looked out to see water running across the road. In the yellow beams of the headlights, she could see the white spray of foam where the water, flowing alongside the road, crashed into a boulder or a tree. She got up and squatted next to Geneva. “Pretty bad, Neva, huh?”

“Road's okay,” said Geneva. “We'll be a little higher up soon.” She smiled nervously.

Natty stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, Neva. Let me know if you need a break.” But she knew Geneva wouldn't let her drive. She never did.

Natty walked toward the back of the bus to inspect her sleeping championship soccer team—her
bald
soccer team, she realized again with a start. She rolled her eyes as she thought of the reaction the parents would have at the sight of the kids—including the two girls. She stepped gingerly over the piles of wet clothing, gym bags, and empty McDonald's bags and turned sideways to avoid the feet, elbows, and heads sticking out into the aisle.

Everyone was still asleep, which was good, because the stink in the back of the bus was wretched. She found Pie stretched out across the second-to-last seat, his head and shoulders on Sammy Willard's lap. Sammy was asleep against the window, his arm across Pie's chest. Pie clutched his Yankees cap in both hands, settled comfortably on his stomach. Natty looked at her son and couldn't help smiling with pride. He had grown so much this season. He'd made some real friends of his teammates and had played an important role in a championship season that he would talk about for years to come.

Natty returned to the front of the bus and slumped into her seat. With her back propped against the window, she looked over at the tournament trophy again and couldn't help smiling. The whole team had grown over the season, and that made their victory even more sweet. She thought about how much she'd changed, too. She had met Charlie and gone to New York and become a woman and had felt—for the first time—what it was to be loved by a man. But someone else had changed over the season, too, maybe more than anyone. Natty looked to the rear of the bus and through the back window, to see if Buck's truck might be following behind them. She wondered how long he'd have to wait at the hospital for Zack.

As she looked out the window, she realized that they were on Cold Springs Road, not far from the power plant. They were just minutes from the high school and her car, with the hastily packed bags in the trunk and the key to the apartment in Bluefield tucked into the visor. She swallowed back her nervousness.

Geneva slowed to make the sharp right-hand turn, whining in first gear to climb a short incline. The bus shuddered, and the engine raced at a higher pitch as Geneva tried to accelerate, but they didn't move. Natty instinctively reached for the pole in front of her as the rear of the bus slid to the right. Geneva gunned the engine, to no avail. She applied the brake, and the bus stood still, angled up the incline. Geneva shifted into reverse, but the rear of the bus began to slide toward the streambed thirty feet below. She tried first gear again, but it was too late. The roadway over the stream was collapsing under the weight of the bus.

Natty watched in horror as the bus slowly slid toward the stream and started to roll onto its left side. She screamed and stumbled toward the back of the bus when it rolled, losing her grip. She hit the edge of a seat, spun around, and landed hard on the side of the bus, hitting her head just above the window.

Natty wedged her forearms under her face for protection and held still, waiting for the bus to stop moving. She could feel liquid on her hands and knew that water must be coming in, but it wasn't cold, it was warm—and slippery. She tried to raise her head, to get up, but excruciating pain shot through her head, and the bus started spinning beneath her, around and around, as if they were in a whirlpool. She rested her face on her arms to wait for the bus to stop spinning.

Crashing noisily on the boulders that ripped at the sheet metal and cracked the windows, the bus careened down the streambed into the rushing water, until it came to rest on its side, thirty feet below Cold Springs Road. The headlights of the bus remained on, the left one visible a foot beneath the surface of the rushing water. Steam gushed out from under the hood like the last hot breaths of a dying dragon.

The icy water shocked Natty as it covered her mouth and nose, causing her to choke. She felt a searing pain in her head and another in her ribs, now wedged tightly against the metal edge of a seat. She heard someone groaning. Then she remembered what had happened and where she was.
“Oh, my God! Oh, Jesus!”
She reached up to find the metal handle on the top of the seat and finally pulled herself erect. The interior of the bus was pitch black, but Natty could hear voices from the rear, where the kids had been sleeping.

“Gilbert, you fat fuck! You're standin' on top of me.”

“I lost my glasses,” complained Gilbert.

“Hey, that was pretty cool,” said George Jarrell.

“Man, it stinks in here,” someone said, making Natty laugh. But the movement brought a stabbing pain, and she reached up to discover blood dripping into her left eye. Cold water swirled over her ankles.

“Okay, everyone, listen to me,” Natty called out into the darkness. “When I call your name, say
here,
and let me know if you're hurt. We'll start with the defense: Brenda? Jason, Jimmy Hopson?” They were all okay. “Georgie?” Okay. “Midfielders: Paul, Matt, Sammy?” Okay, okay.

“Think my arm's broken, coach,” Matt Hatfield groaned painfully, “but I'm okay.”

“Hardy Steele? Pie?”

“Okay,” said Hardy, then nothing.

“Pie Man!”
Natty said louder. “Pie, where are you?”

“I'm okay, Mama,” said Pie in a muffled voice. “But I can't find my New York Yankees hat!” A loud clank came from the rear of the bus, and a wave of cold air swept in.

“Hey, I got the back door open,” yelled Sammy. “C'mon, let's get out of here.”

“Sammy, be careful—” Natty was distracted by a loud groan from the front of the bus. “
Oh, Jesus,
Neva? Neva, are you hurt?” Natty moved forward, edging along the side of the bus.

She heard Gabe's voice up front. “I'm up here, Miz Oakes. Think Miz Gunnells could be having a heart attack.”

Natty saw a figure moving in one of the seats. “That you, Emma?”

Emma's voice was soft, as always. “I'm okay, Natty, just twisted around a little. Go help Miz Gunnells.”

Natty clambered over duffel bags to reach the driver's seat. Geneva moaned in pain. As Natty stood back to figure out how to get the old woman out of the bus, she noticed something silver behind the seat. It was Geneva's flashlight. Natty grabbed it and turned it on, shining it toward the rear of the bus just in time to see a bald head disappear through the emergency door. She couldn't tell who it was but guessed it must've been Emma. Sammy was standing outside, helping the others get out.

Natty turned around and saw that Gabe had pulled Geneva out of the driver's seat. She was still conscious, but her face was contorted in pain. “Think maybe my hip's broken,” Geneva whispered, sucking in a painful breath of air. Natty shone the flashlight through the front windshield and saw that the torrent of water seemed to be increasing in volume.

“We can't keep her here,” Natty said to Gabe. “Bus might get washed farther downstream.” She turned the light toward the rear of the bus and shook her head. “Never be able to carry her through all that.”

Natty pulled the lever for the folding door and was surprised when it opened directly over their heads. She looked up, perplexed as to how they would get Geneva up and through the door. But Gabe had it figured out. He told Natty to move into the stairwell, with her shoulders outside. She briefly shone the flashlight onto the steep embankment, where she could see her team picking their way uphill. She sighed with relief, knowing how lucky they'd been.

Natty laid the flashlight on top of the bus and reached down to grab Geneva under her arms as Gabe held the injured woman up to her. Then Gabe sprang up and suspended himself in the opening like a gymnast. He rocked forward slightly, pulling his legs up through the door. In an instant, he was standing over Natty, bending down through the door to take hold of Geneva and pull her out of the bus.

Natty scrambled out onto the fender, tucked the flashlight into her waistband, and helped Gabe lower Geneva over the side. Gabe jumped down and lifted Geneva after him. Natty held on to Gabe's arm to help him fight the current as he carried Geneva to shore.

Sammy and Paul came bounding down the slope when they saw Natty come out of the bus, and, with Gabe's help, they carried Geneva up to the road. It was a long, precarious hike, and when they finally reached the top, Natty felt a rush of relief and exhaustion. She was now aware of the pain that she'd ignored while escaping the bus. Gabe took off his wet sweatshirt and tucked it under Geneva's head.

Sammy's voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hey, Miz Oakes, how 'bout I run up to the power plant and get some help? Only 'bout a mile from here. They always got a security guard.”

Natty looked up and down the dark road. “Okay, Sammy. We could be here all night waiting for someone to come along this road, and we need to get Neva to the hospital.” She handed him the flashlight. “Here, take this so you can see where you're going. Gabe, why don't you go with him, just in case.”

“Sure, Miz Oakes,” said Gabe, glad to have a mission. The two boys jogged off, and Natty took off her warm-up jacket and wedged it underneath Geneva's back.

“Help will be here in a little while, Neva,” Natty said, squeezing the old woman's bony hand. “You did a great job tonight. Nothing you could do about the road givin' out.” Geneva scowled, angry at herself for losing control of the bus.

Natty stood up and looked down at their mortally wounded bus lying in the cold stream, and she felt a wave of sadness. The old bus had taken them to a lot of soccer games over the years. The water level had risen a little higher and now churned violently against the front grille, splashing up onto the windshield. The headlights had finally gone out.

She crossed her arms and walked a few steps up the road, trying to generate some warmth. All she had on now was a long-sleeved undershirt, which was wet, like everything else. She looked up to where the road had crumbled and thought about Sammy and Gabe. They'd be all right. They were tough, athletic kids and would probably be at the plant in a few minutes, the way they could run.
The way they could run.
Natty grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut.
The way they could run!
She felt her heart skip and was paralyzed by a shock of fear that racked her entire body.

Oh, God, no!
She struggled to breathe and bolted toward the shadowy figures of her team sitting along the shoulder of the road a few yards away. Natty didn't have to count the bald heads to know. She felt the familiar stab of pain that was the memory of Annie. “
Oh, dear God, how could I do this again?
” she whimpered, looking frantically into the face of each of the kids—they were nearly indistinguishable in the dark with their bald heads.

“Oh, my God!”
she gasped, leaping to the top of the guardrail to look down at the submerged bus. She screamed in anguish and despair.
“Em-ma!”

Natty jumped out as far as she could, sliding, bouncing, and tumbling down the embankment, tearing her clothing and skin on rocks and roots. Halfway down, she fell and landed on her face, sliding over rocks and branches. She clawed her way over the large boulders at the edge of the stream and yelled again, “
Emma, I'm coming!
” before jumping into the icy water.

The current was swifter now, and she was immediately thrown against some boulders, smashing her left knee. She couldn't move her leg for a few seconds, so she floated with the current toward the rear of the bus, banging on the metal roof to let Emma know she was there. When she reached the back door, she pulled herself into the bus. “Emma?
Emma
, where are you?” she yelled over the noise of the water. She heard a small voice from the front.

“Here,
please
. I'm stuck,” Emma managed weakly.

Natty made her way forward along the windows, holding on to the seats for balance. “Hold on, Em, I'm coming,” she said, trying to sound confident. The water in the bus was now up to her knees. A few seats before she reached Emma, Natty's left foot went through a window. She could feel the glass as it cut through her warm-ups and thought she might black out from the pain. Her left knee was stuck in the smashed window, surrounded by razor-sharp shards of glass.
“Fuck. Shit. Goddamm it!”
Natty gritted her teeth to manage the pain that worsened with every moment.

“Natty?” Emma called out faintly.

She heard the girl coughing and spitting out water.
Oh, Jesus!
Natty gritted her teeth and pulled her left leg up through the broken glass. She was free. She took one tentative step with her left leg and knew right away that it was useless, so she hopped forward on her right, pulling herself along by the seat handles. Then she saw Emma's hand holding on to the top of the seat in front of her, to keep her head out of the water.