Arrival (33 page)

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Authors: Ryk Brown

BOOK: Arrival
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“YEE HAW!” Mac screamed as the ATUV bounced up from the impact. Mac adjusted their course to take the next mound head-on, sending them flying at least two meters off the deck, landing hard again.

Despite her seatbelt, Sara flailed wildly as they landed. She wondered why she had ever suggested driving over the mounds. She glanced back over her shoulder. The water was still coming, but they were increasing their distance from the leading edge of the flood.

They continued on for several minutes, jumping mound after mound, nearly tipping over a few times when they failed to hit the little hills at just the right angle. Sara kept checking the water behind them. They were still keeping ahead of the surge, but they were a long way from the western end of the depression. “We’re running out of time!” she exclaimed. “We’ve gotta veer south now or we’ll end up trapped against the western wall!”

Mac didn’t dare look over his shoulder to check Sara’s assessment of the situation. Trusting her instincts, he veered to the left to head southwest instead of due west.

Within minutes, the water was licking at their wheels again, ankle-deep in only a few moments. But the surface was still lava rock, and it provided decent traction even when wet.

They plowed through the water toward the edge of the depression. It was only fifty meters away.

“Hurry, Mac! Hurry!”

The rushing water quickly grew deeper, slowing their progress. Muddy water spat from their tires, and from the nose of the ATUV, as they plowed through the deepening water. Soon, Mac found he had to add continually more left turn to stay on course. With quick glances to his left, he could see that the water was rising too fast. “We’re not going to make it!” he cried out. “Hang on!” He changed course again, turning more to the left to run parallel to the water’s course in a last-ditch attempt to reach the ridge before the water washed them away.

Sara screamed in terror as the water quickly rose up and spilled onto the floor of their vehicle. Their speed dropped sharply and the motor began to die as the water from their wake spilled out over the top of the nose of the vehicle, pouring into the engine compartment through the hood’s ventilation ducts. Panic swept through Sara like a cold wind, the memory of Frank’s near drowning suddenly fresh in her mind.

Mac swerved to the right to get the water away from the ducts, but it was too late. The engine died completely, still fifteen meters from the ridge, as water quickly began to cover the floor of the ATUV.

“Get out! Get out!” Mac ordered as he grabbed his survival pack out of the backseat and began climbing toward Sara.

She thought he was crazy, but followed his instructions and jumped into the water. Mac was right behind her and grabbed her around the waist with his right arm, shielding her against the current with his body as he slung the survival pack onto his left shoulder. “Go! Go! Go!” he barked, dragging her through the rushing water.

As they past the front edge of the vehicle and stepped into the direct flow of the water, the current nearly knocked them off their feet. The water was already waist-deep, the current driving into Mac’s backside, its wake climbing halfway up his back before spilling around him.

He shielded Sara from the brunt of the deluge, carefully side-stepping toward the edge of the depression ten meters away. He continued leaning backwards into the current as they slowly made their way, step-by-step, toward the edge of the water climbing up his back.

Sara clung to Mac, hiding from the water swirling around them. His bulk was to her advantage, as it blocked the water and formed a low-lying trough in front of him and around her. Each step was more difficult than the last, and Mac kept losing his footing as he fought to keep from being swept away.

The water was cold, and Mac could barely feel his legs as he struggled along. The water continued to deepen, and the wake now spilled over his shoulders and poured down on top of Sara in front of him as she clung to his torso, holding on for dear life. The force of the water shoved the survival pack up against the back of Mac’s neck, pushing his head forward, making it difficult to breathe as they inched closer to the edge of the freezing water. Then, just as the water was about to overcome them, the ground under their feet started to slope upward.

Mac planted his left foot higher up the slope and pushed himself upwards, dragging Sara along with him. He repeated the process twice more until he was only waist-deep again, before shoving Sara up the slope and onto dry land.

Sara crawled up the slope, sputtering and coughing, drenched in dirty gray floodwater. Cresting the top of the slope, she fell to her stomach and rolled over onto her back, cold and exhausted.

Mac tossed the pack up onto the top of the grade and stumbled up the incline, collapsing to his knees next to Sara. “Are you alright?” he panted.

Sara couldn’t answer. She was still too scared and still breathing too hard to speak. All she could manage was a thumbs-up gesture with her left hand as it lay across her muddy abdomen.

Mac turned his head to look at the water; it was still rising. “Come on, we can’t stop now, the water is still rising.”

“I can’t,” Sara whined.

“Yes, you can,” Mac barked. “Let’s go!” He reached over and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her up off the wet ground as he grabbed his pack with his right hand. “Don’t make me carry you!”

Sara stumbled to her feet as Mac dragged her up. There was no way she was going to let him carry her. The water was no longer lapping at their feet, but Mac’s pace was still just as rushed.

They made their way across the short stretch of flatland and down the other side, stumbling through a shallow tributary of floodwater that made its way more leisurely down the narrow slough.

As they climbed up the hill on the other side, Mac could see that the mountains seemed to turn away from them on either side. He remembered the images he had studied with Tony the night before, the ones from the ARD flights over this area. It was a small canyon, but of an elevation even higher than the rest of the valley. The water would spill into the valley long before it climbed up into this canyon.

“Mac, please,” Sara pleaded. Her legs hurt and her feet were still numb from the cold water.

“Just a little further,” he urged, “I promise.”

Another twenty meters and they came to the top of the hill. The canyon lay before them, maybe fifty meters across at the mouth, and about eighty meters deep with vertical cliffs towering above them on either side.

“Okay, that’s far enough for now.” Mac told her.

Sara collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

“Frank,” Mac panted over the comm-set, “this is Mac.”


Mac! What’s your status?

“We made it… to high ground,” he panted. “But just barely. I think we’re safe for now.”


Copy that! Standby one!

Mac looked down at Sara. She was still crying. He knelt down beside her, putting his arms around her for comfort. “It’s okay, Sara,” he whispered softly as he took off his coat and put it around her. “We’re safe.”

* * *

Jack and Will laid there on the rock, resting after their white-water ordeal.

“What do we do now?” Will asked, still slightly out of breath.

Jack sat up and looked around. The rock they were on was mostly flat across the top, about four meters long and six meters wide, sitting a mere half meter above the green water rushing past them on either side. He stood up and examined the water, looking about from side-to-side, shore to shore. “Look,” Jack spoke up, noticing the area just beyond the far side of the rock. “The water over there is moving more slowly.” He looked farther downstream. “You see that down there?” he pointed. “Where the water is rippled?”

Will blocked the sun from his eyes with his right hand, looking where Jack was pointing.

“It’s shallow there.”

“How do you know that?”

“That’s the same way the water looked where we first entered. The water becomes rippled as it flows over the rocky bottom. It’s probably not more than a meter deep all across there.”

Will scanned the area. The rapid green water next to them curved around the downstream end of the rock to rejoin the main force of the river. Between the main flow and the far shore was a large, slower moving part of the river, but still well over their heads in depth. But about thirty meters downstream, the ripples started which, according to Jack, signified shallower waters. Even further, the river formed a nearly still pond along the far shore.

“If we can get across this fast water here, we can float downstream and then just stand up and wade the rest of the way across.”

“Jack, it’s at least twenty meters to the slower water there,” Will pointed out. “And then another ten across that. How are we going to get across?”

“Like I said, we may not have to. The current looks like it will carry us right into the shallow water on the far side down there.”


Looks like?
No offense, Jack, but your guesses have been less than perfect lately.”

“Oh, come on.”

“How do you expect to get through that?” Will asked, pointing at the water rushing alongside the rock they were standing on. “Neither one of us can swim, remember?”

“We don’t have to,” Jack reminded him, picking up his backpack. “We can float on these.”

“Okay, but how do you propose we get past
this
water?”

Jack looked around the rock, pacing across its width. “We get a running start, and jump across,” he theorized.

Will’s mouth fell agape. “You’re kidding, right?” It was a pointless question; Will already knew the answer.

“It should be easy.”

“You’re crazy!” Will sputtered. “I had my doubts about you when you suggested we hike across this planet, and again when you wanted to climb down that cliff. But now I’m certain, you’re insane!”

“Well what do you suggest we do, Will? Wait, I know!” Jack raved. “We can set up camp here and wait for the rest of the colonists to come and rescue us! Yeah, that’s it! We can fish for dinner, use the fire paste to cook it up. It might be a little cold at night, but what the hell, it’s safer than trying to move on, right?”

“Real funny, Jack.”

Jack turned away from Will, looking out over the water toward the far shore. Beyond the shore lay a vast mountain range, the last obstacle between them and their best chance of survival. He wanted so badly to get there, to resume command of the mission. His mission. He felt sorry for Will. He hadn’t signed up for anything like this. Yet he had stuck it out, following Jack through every scrape along the way. “I’m sorry, Will. That was uncalled for.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Will assured him. “After all this time following you across the country, I’ve grown a tougher skin than that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You have.” Jack admitted.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re crazy.” Will stood up and straightened his jumpsuit. “But you
are
right, we can’t stay here.”

“Great.” Jack picked up his pack and began to put it on, backwards. “And since I’m the crazy one here, I’ll go first.”

Will stepped up to help Jack with his pack. “Damn right, you will.”

Jack slipped his arms through the straps, leaving the pack hanging from his shoulders, in front of his torso. After securing the strap behind Jack’s waist, Will tied the rope around him once more, checking the knot to ensure it was secure. “Okay, Jack. You’re all set.”

Jack walked back to the far side of the rock clumsily, the weight of the pack in front of him forcing him to lean back at an unnatural angle. He looked at the rock in front of him. It wasn’t entirely flat at all; rather, it had crags and valleys, making it a fairly uneven surface on which to run. He prayed he wouldn’t slip along the way and go tumbling into the river headfirst.

“Hey, Will?” Jack asked as he mentally prepared himself for the leap.

“Yes?” Will responded, rising to his feet and picking up his pack to move out of the way.

“Who’s crazier? The maniac with the crazy ideas, or the nut who follows him?”

Will looked over at Jack, only to see him grinning from ear to ear.

“Interesting question,” Will answered as a smile spread across his own face. “We’ll have to ask Maria.”

Jack looked around. The sky was clear. The jungle on either side of the river was dense and green, and the water sparkled in the Cetian sunlight. It was a breathtaking sight. Hopefully, it would not be the last thing he ever saw.

Jack looked again at Will. He winked, and then took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.” Another deep breath and he was off, sprinting across the top of the rock at full speed, his arms wrapped around the bouncing pack in front of him. With a mighty leap, he launched himself off the edge of the rock, the rope tied around his waist flapping out behind him. He sailed at least five meters out before his feet dipped into the water. But it was just enough, and his torso landed just beyond the edge of the faster moving water, his backpack plunging down deep under the surface.

His chest struck the sinking backpack hard, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He began to roll to his left, and flapped his arms madly as he tried to right himself. After a few seconds of splashing, he managed to stabilize himself as the water carried him downstream. He began kicking his feet in earnest, trying to traverse the current before it carried him so far down the river that he might miss the shallows and end up in the deadly white water beyond.

Will watched as Jack kicked and paddled with all his strength. He glanced down at the rope connecting him to Jack, as it was pulled off the rock and into the water. Will began to brace himself for the tension of the rope, certain that Jack wasn’t going to make it across in time. But after a few moments, Jack’s downstream progress seemed to slow, and he began to make headway across the calmer waters.
That crazy son-of-a-bitch just might make it after all!
he thought. “Swim, you crazy bastard! Swim!”

Jack clutched his pack under his chest, moving closer to shore with each kick. As he approached land, he began to paddle with his arms as well, rocking from side to side as his weight shifted with each successive stroke. Less than a minute after he had leapt into the water, Jack stopped kicking, slid his arms out of the straps of his pack, and stood up in the waist-deep water. “Yes!” he cried out as he held his right hand up in triumph. “Yes!”

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