"Oh Jesus," Sarah said, when she saw.
They were in the middle of a rushing river. Muddy brown, and moving fast, standing waves of churning water. There were big tree branches and debris moving swiftly along. The car was going faster and faster every second.
And water was coming in through the floor now. Their feet were wet. Evans knew what that meant.
They were sinking.
"I think we should get out, Peter."
"No." He was looking at the standing waves of churning water. There were rapids, big boulders, sinkholes. Maybe if they had helmets and body protection, they might try to go into the current. But without helmets they would die.
The car tilted to the right, then came back up. But he had the feeling that sooner or later it would roll onto its side and sink. And he had the feeling it would sink fast.
He looked out the window and said, "Does this look familiar? What river is this?"
"Who cares?" Sarah yelled.
And then Evans said, "Look!"
Trooper Rodriguez saw the SUV bouncing and spinning down the river and immediately hit his car siren. He grabbed the bullhorn and turned to the picnickers.
"Folks, please clear the area! We have a flash floodnow. Everybody move to higher ground, and do it now!"
He hit the siren again.
"Now, folks! Leave your things for later. Go now! "
He looked back at the SUV, but it was already almost out of sight, headed down the river toward the McKinley overpass. And right beyond McKinley overpass was the cliff's edge, a ninety-foot drop.
The car and its occupants wouldn't survive it.
And there was nothing they could do about it.
Evans couldn't think, couldn't plan--it was all he could do to hang on. The SUV rolled and turned in the churning water. The vehicle was sinking lower, and the water now sloshing at knee height was freezing cold, and seemed to make the car more unstable, its movements more unpredictable.
At one point he banged heads with Sarah, who grunted, but she was not saying anything either. Then he banged his head on the door post, saw stars briefly.
Ahead, he saw an overpass, a roadway held up with big concrete stanchions. Each stanchion had caught debris floating downriver; the pylons were now wrapped with a tangled mat of tree branches, burned trunks, old boards, and floating junk, so that there was little room to pass by.
"Sarah," he yelled, "unbuckle your seat belt." His own belt was now under the chilly water. He fumbled with it, as the car rolled.
"I can't," she said. "I can't get it."
He bent to help her.
"What are we going to do?'
"We're going to get out," he said.
The car raced forward, then slammed into a mass of branches. It shuddered in the current, but held position. It clanged against an old refrigerator (a refrigerator?Evans thought) that bobbed in the water nearby. The pylon loomed above them. The river was so high, the road overpass was only about ten feet above them.
"We have to get out, Sarah," he said.
"My belt is stuck; I can't."
He bent to help her, plunging his hands into the water, fumbling for the belt. He couldn't see it in the mud. He had to do it by feel.
And he felt the car begin to move.
It was going to break free.
Sanjong was driving furiously along the upper road. He saw Peter and Sarah in their SUV, riding the current toward the bridge. He saw them crash against the pylon, and hold precariously there.
The traffic on the bridge was swarming away from the park, passengers panicking, honking horns, confusion. Sanjong drove across the bridge, and jumped out of his car. He began to run across the bridge, toward the car in the water below.
Evans hung on desperately as the SUV rolled and spun in the churning water. The refrigerator clanged against them, again and again. Branches stuck through the shattered windows, the tips quivering like fingers. Sarah's seat belt was jammed, the latch was crumpled or something. Evans's fingers were numb in the cold. He knew that the car wouldn't stay in position very long. He could feel the current pulling at it, dragging it laterally.
"I can't get it open, Sarah," he said.
The water had risen; it was now almost chest high.
"What do we do?" she said. Her eyes were panicky.
For an instant he didn't know, and then he thoughtI'm an idiot and he threw himself bodily across her, plunged his head underwater, and felt for the door post on her side of the car. He dragged a three-foot length of the seat belt away from the post, and brought his head back up, gasping for air.
"Slide out!" he yelled. "Slide out!"
She understood immediately, putting her hands on his shoulder and shoving as she slithered out from the belt. His head went back under the water, but he could feel her getting free. She moved into the backseat, kicking him in the head as she went.
He was back up above the water, gasping.
"Now climb out!" he yelled.
The car was starting to move. The branches creaking. The refrigerator clanging.