The Survivors: Book One

January 28th, 2013

West Virginia

1

"Hell..."

Sergeant Brady knew it was a bad idea as soon as the front tires of his muddy SUV eased out onto the mostly clear suspension bridge. He could feel the way it vibrated in the heavy wind, but the waters had risen while he slept and left only this way out.

The iron grates under the Blazer groaned, their supports completely covered in slushy, menacing debris as he neared halfway…then they gave.

Crack! Rreeennttpp!

The solidness under his wheels tilted suddenly, one of the two foundations slid enough to pull the bars out of the other bank, and it rocked the bridge like a child's race track.

The Blazer tilted violently and the guardrail began ripping away with horrible grinding noises, cables snapping like string.

Marc hit the gas, aiming for the end now dropping heavily towards the shallow side of the dammed-up Black River. "Semper Fi!"

Dust and debris flying, the Blazer leapt off the bridge's lowered side and dropped into the foot of rushing water like a lead ball, crushing the front bumper and throwing up a huge spray that drenched the older 4x4.

Pulled along with the swift current, Marc rolled the two front windows all the way down, surprised the engine hadn't stalled. Slinging his kit over one broad shoulder, the grunt ignored the water rushing inside, and aimed for a steep bank he knew he had no chance of making it up.

Wincing at the cracking sounds of the bridge behind him, the furious yapping of the big animal in the passenger seat confirmed what he already knew. They were in trouble.

"Dog, out!"

Marc shoved his 6', 225 pound frame through the window an instant after the wolf. They jumped down into the icy water just as the bridge finally collapsed, and the wall of liquid death lunged forward.

Marc scrambled up the slick, muddy bank, taking rope from his kit, working it into a lasso. He threw it as the surging water hit the slowly moving Blazer, and rolled it like a White Castle box in the wind.

The thick rope sailed over a burned, wireless pole, and Marc hoped it went deep enough as he quickly tied it around his waist. Then the water came thundering down like an army, submerging him. Unable to breathe or protect himself from all the debris in the nasty liquid that slammed into him mercilessly, he held in the panic. The light pole trembled under the pressure of the rushing Black River, vibrating against his hip as he used it to shield himself from the bigger chunks.