Chapter 9 - The Devil at the Creek
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The freezing mountain water felt like a thousand needles driving directly into my chest the second I stepped over the embankment.
The current slammed against my thighs with hydraulic force, threatening to sweep my feet out from beneath me.
Around my waist, a heavy braided nylon static line was secured with a double carabiner lock.
Forty feet behind me on the crumbling asphalt, Bull Crawford held the primary line wrapped around his massive arms and torso.
He was braced like an ancient oak, his boots dug deep into the mud, his teeth bared against the lashing rain.
His eight Marines formed a human tow chain directly behind him, anchoring the rope with their collective body weight.
"Step by step, Commander!" Bull roared through the deafening roar of the raging river.
"We've got you!"
I moved diagonally across the torrent, using the tension of the safety line to counteract the brutal push of the current.
Huge tree branches and splintered fence posts tumbled past me like deadly wooden torpedoes.
One heavy oak limb struck my left shoulder, sending a searing jolt of pain through my old combat injury.
I gritted my teeth, spat muddy water from my mouth, and refused to slow down.
The transit bus groaned, the metal screeching in agony as the water level reached the lower passenger windows.
Inside, the terrified screams of the children were audible even over the roar of the waterfall cascading over the culvert.
"Help us! Please, somebody help us!" the female bus driver cried out, her face pressed against the cracked rear window.
"I am coming to you!" I yelled back, lunging forward with all the strength left in my legs.
I reached the jagged rear bumper of the bus and caught the steel frame with both hands.
The cold metal burned like ice against my bleeding fingers.
The entire vehicle violently rocked downward by another two inches, the concrete pillar beneath it crumbling with a sickening crack.
"Commander, that pillar is giving way!" Corporal Miller screamed from the roadside.
"Move faster, Alexis!" Pete yelled from the flatbed.
I pulled myself up using the rear emergency door handle and kicked the lower safety latch with my heel.
The door was jammed tight by the twisted frame of the bus.
Water was now swirling around my chest, rising by an inch every thirty seconds.
Inside, the water had reached the seats, and two elderly passengers were desperately clinging to the ceiling grab rails.
"Get back from the door!" I shouted to the occupants inside.
I reached into my boot, drew my tactical rescue knife, and jammed the heavy steel pommel into the tempered glass corner.
The glass shattered into a thousand spiderweb fractures.
I slammed my elbow through the center, clearing away the jagged shards with the thick leather sleeve of my jacket.
"Bull! Send the first secondary harness!" I roared back toward the shore.
May you like
"Rope coming hot, Commander!" Bull shouted back.
A second heavy line whistled through the rain, landing directly across the shattered window frame into my waiting hands.
