Washed Away by Carol Marinelli

choice.
    But, Noah thought now as he drove toward the clinic, the radio announcer might start getting anxious, and any urgency in his voice would only worry the animals. Perhaps CDs instead?
    Wiping the foggy windows with the back of his hand, he thought about all the jobs he had to get through when he finally made it home—locking up the animals, giving out some drugs, filling their water bottles and bowls, leaving out food. Yes, he’d stack some CDs on the portable player for them, a mixture of rock and dance, a couple of classical golden oldies for Georgina the miniature horse. He’d switch the CD player to batteries and leave it on low for them.
    “Mabel!” He shouted the name out loud as it sprang into his head, sending the animals in the rear into a frenzy. But Madge didn’t even turn a hair, more than used to her master’s occasional eccentricity.
    “She’ll freak,” Noah exclaimed, thinking of the massive pig in his shed due to farrow her first litter at any moment. “She’s going to freak, Madge.”
    Madge raised one tired eye and Noah swore the old girl shook her head, reassuring him just as she always did.
    They’d be fine.
    “No!” This time his shout was instinctive, guttural, his body rigid with disbelief. Madge was immediately standing on the passenger seat and barking, her ears pricking up.
    “No.” The word strangled in his throat and his van skidded to an untidy halt as he slammed his foot down hard on the brake. His eyes widened in horror as the reality of what he was witnessing sank in.
    Someone was on Hansen’s Bridge.
    On Hansen’s Bridge, for God’s sake!
    No one went on Hansen’s Bridge. It was derelict and had been closed off for as long as Noah could remember. There were Closed signs everywhere, a barrier even….
    But in this weather, who could see them?
    His eyes scanned the pounding water. The flimsy barrier wouldn’t have stood a chance against its force, but the locals knew it was a death trap.
    Only a fool or a stranger in town would be nudginghis vehicle along the bridge and hoping to make it over to the other side, but someone was doing just that! Inching his Jeep along the rickety bridge before Noah’s disbelieving eyes.
    His hands raked through his hair, gripping it for a moment as he shook his head in horror. His breathing was so rapid he had to tell himself forcibly to slow it down, but he never even finished the thought. Instead he jumped out of the van, roaring at the driver on the bridge to get back. Although as he gestured furiously, Noah knew it was useless. There was no way the Jeep was going to make it. Already he could see the wood buckling. Any minute now, the whole bridge would collapse like a pack of cards.
    Think, Noah!
    He raced around to the back of the van and wrenched the door open, shouting at the animals to stay back. Rummaging through the rope used to secure animals, he pulled out the longest before discarding the rest on the muddy ground beneath him. Slamming the door closed, he realized with a shock that he was already too late. A terrified female scream resonated in his skull as the bridge buckled farther and the vehicle lurched dangerously closer to the swirling water. He held his own scream in. He would need every last breath.
    Pulling off his boots and heavy jacket, he slung the rope around his waist, tying a knot, then securing the other end to a tree, praying, just praying there would be enough length. And if there wasn’t?
    The rope would come off.
    A tiny voice of reason was attempting to make itself heard, a tiny nagging voice that told him not to take stupid risks, that it was pointless losing two lives instead of one. But instinct was taking over now, and he felt no fear, only a sense of urgency as the bridge finally snapped, the Jeep lurching sideways, tossing in the foam like a child’s toy. Noah dove after it.
    There could be a family in there, a mom and dad, kids….
    Please, God, no.
    He forced himself to ignore the sting of