Missing Thread

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Friday evening, Bridge City, Texas

The frantic whap whap of the wipers against the windshield matched the pounding beat of Georgia's heart. The water ran down the glass in torrents, making visibility near impossible. She'd left the lights of Bridge City, Texas behind her moments before. Lightning strikes lit up the dark night sky, while deafening claps of thunder added to her already frayed nerves. Why did I insist on driving tonight?

The weather report predicted rain, not this sudden torrential storm. She adjusted her seat to support her back muscles; aching from leaning forward to peer through the distorted glass. The lights from an approaching semi truck blinded her momentarily. The tires of the truck hit a dip in the road full of water and splashed it onto her windshield. “Uhh … damn,” she gasped. Visibility was lost and Georgia felt the car hydroplane. She steered out of a skid and tapped the brakes lightly to slow her vehicle down.

A green light up ahead flashed Cafe. She drove the car off of the highway and into the parking lot. “Phew.” A deep breathe escaped through clenched teeth and she leaned her head back against the headrest, releasing the pent up tension in her shoulders. One glance through the car window told her there was no sense waiting for the rain to let up. Georgia grabbed her purse, opened the door, and stepped out into the pelting rain. By the time she reached the door to the coffee shop, her clothes were soaked. Her wet hair dripped water down her face and off the tip of her nose.

“Oh my, what're doin' drivin' on a night like this?” The waitress led her to a table and brought her a hand towel from the kitchen. A teenage couple sat at a corner table whispering to each other, oblivious to anyone else. The door opened and a man entered in much the same state as Georgia, rounding it out to four patrons.

“What can I get ya, hon?” the woman asked her.

“Coffee, black, please.”

The waitress scurried to the kitchen for another towel for the stranger.

Georgia pulled out her cell phone. No signal. Great, the weather probably took out the tower. She placed her cold hands around the cup for warmth. The man ordered a coffee and a donut. With little to do, the waitress wandered over to Georgia's table, her face shrouded with a look of concern.

“Where ya headed?”

“Houston,” she said.

“Bad night for it. Maybe y'all should wait 'til mornin'.”

“I have a flight to catch to L.A. I would have changed flights if I'd known this storm would turn for the worst. I'm about half-way. I might as well travel on.”

“Y'all not from around here, are ya?”

Georgia smiled. Her lack of a southern drawl was a dead give-away. “No. I'm from Vancouver, Canada. I had business in Houston and today I went to Lake Charles, Louisiana for the day.

“Beautiful city that Vancouver. I visited there for the Olympics. Refill?”

“Yes, please.” She glanced around the cafe, enjoying the warmth exuding from a woodstove in the corner. The lone male caught her attention and he nodded at her; a slight smile creased his mouth. Georgia nodded back. She took a few sips of her coffee. As comfortable as it felt here, it was time to get back on the road. She left money on the table and stood.

The stranger spoke to her as she passed. “Killer night.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Let's hope not.”

A slight smile curled his lips for a second time. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Have a safe trip.”

“You too.”

The waitress met her at the door. “Now, hon, y'all take care out there, hear?”

“I will. Thank you.”

There was no traffic on the road and it seemed darker than ever. “Everyone's too smart to be out here. Not like me,” she muttered. She drove her way through the bridge systems over waters running to the Neches River which connected with Sabine Lake, eventually emptying into the Gulf of Mexico. A direction sign told her Port Arthur lay fifteen minutes ahead. Houston was a little over an hour away. The final bridge over the Neches River came into sight. Georgia noticed a vehicle behind her, closing the gap at a high rate of speed.

“What the…”

Considering the road conditions and limited visibility, whoever sat behind the wheel was definitely driving recklessly. It caught up to her back end in no time. Judging by the height of the headlights, it appeared to be a pick-up truck. High beams shone in the rear view mirror, adding to her already compromised vision.

“Jerk.” She reached up to the mirror and flipped the knob but the lights still blinded her. “Asshole,” she cried out. One quick slap of her hand pushed the mirror upwards, forcing her to rely on the side mirrors.

She concentrated on the road and the bridge looming ahead. The pick-up pulled out into the opposing lane. The vehicle didn't pass, but stayed right beside her. “What the hell?” Suddenly, the truck swerved towards her car, forcing Georgia to veer to the right. The tires on the right side of the car hit dirt and she started to skid. As she attempted to steer the car back onto the paved road, the pick-up moved into her lane and swerved towards her again. “What are you doing?” she yelled, frightened.

They'd reached the bridge span. With no place to go but into the concrete abutment where the bridge joined the bank, Georgia tapped her brakes and held on to the wheel, hoping to stop in time on the dirt shoulder. The pick-up stopped on the roadway at the entrance to the bridge blocking her way back to the pavement. She spiked her breaks to stop in time, but the wheel on the right passenger side caught a patch of mud and the car slid sideways. “Oh my God…” she screamed. Georgia cleared the bridge column, but the car kept sliding right over the embankment. Her body froze. The whole thing played out in slow motion. She heard the motor rev of the pick-up and the squeal of its tires as it sped onto the bridge deck and disappeared into the night. The front passenger side of her car hit a large rock, while the momentum of the still moving car forced her side to spin forward and up into the air. The vehicle flipped a couple of times as it careened down the bank and into the Neches River.

Because the car flipped side over side, Georgia's head flew to the passenger side with the first roll and back towards the driver's door, hitting hard against the window post before the air bags deployed. Her lungs gasped for air amidst the sharp chest pain she felt from their impact.

Blood ran down her face, filling her eyes, and mouth. She spat it out and shook her head to overcome the sense of disorientation.

The car landed in shallow water initially, but was tilted to the right and slid into deeper water. Georgia panicked. “Oh no, I've got to get out.” She remembered reading in the car manual that one had so many seconds to open windows and doors before the power pack shorted.

She reached up and turned on the interior light, pushed the side air bag out of the way and hit the electronic window buttons. Cold air and freezing water poured into the windows. She pushed the seat belt release, but it wouldn't budge. “Uhh … no … no … come on,” she cried, pounding the button. Georgia shifted in her seat to see what the problem was. The water was up to her waist, distorting everything under its wake. She felt around with her fingers and realized the seat belt casing was buckled. Her heart pounded, but she wouldn't give up. The water rushed in faster now as the car sunk lower.

With numbing fingers, she held her breath and slid under the water to grab her purse on the floor of the passenger side. Her head popped back up. “Uuuh…that's cold,” she gasped. The water was up to her neck at this point and she tilted her head back as her fingers searched for scissors in her make-up bag. Her body was numb from the cold water. Thank God for sharp scissors. It took a bit of effort, but she managed to cut through the belt and release herself. A small pocket of air remained at the roof of the car. Georgia took a few seconds to calm herself, sucked in a deep breath and pushed herself through the open window into the murky water as the car sunk into the dark depths.

Disoriented by the cold water and her head injury, Georgia didn't know which way was up. She looked up and down in the dark water. Surprisingly, the headlights and interior lights were still on and she could see them slowly moving away from her, confirming which way she must swim. Her lungs were bursting as she forced herself up, slowly releasing the diminishing air in her lungs. She hit the surface and sucked in air and water, causing her to cough and sputter.

Georgia tread water for a time, spinning in circles, not sure in the darkness where the shoreline lay. Her teeth chattered from the bitter cold water and rain pelted on her face, blinding her further. She finally made out the lights on the bridge and knew which way to swim to shore. She floated on her back to catch her breath and rebuild her energy. A moment later, the gravity of this decision hit home. Too late, the current of the river caught hold and pulled her out into the channel. “Help,” she screamed. The water became choppy and as hard as she tried to swim back to calmer water, the river pulled her back. “Help…somebody help me.” The current pulled her under at times, and when she resurfaced, the waves slapped her in the face, making it difficult to gasp for air without taking water in too.

Georgia gave a courageous fight, but it wasn't enough. The river, with all the force of nature, sought the path of its destiny as it had always done, taking her along with it.

The battle was lost.