Red Rover | gxg | Wattys 2023 Winner | ✔

(11) Fast Cars

I found Patrick underwater half a mile downriver, already gone limp, and dragged him to shore. He shouldn't have survived. Not without my breaking all his ribs on proper CPR. And not with what I saw at the bottom of that river when I finally caught up to him. But we turned him over on the bank, and he threw up enough water to drown a fish, then coughed and sobbed for close to an hour. Completely incoherent. When we looked back at the bridge, the other person was gone.

Calico J picked his nickname. Well, Calico J said all Patrick's luck must have come back for him on that day, and Patrick was the first name I could think of associated with anything lucky. It was meant to be temporary, but Patrick didn't question it. He didn't question much of anything. It was two more days before he said a word, and nobody could touch him without him leaping like he'd been shot. I think Calico J was happy to have another guy in the group, though, because he stepped in right away, and Patrick kind of glommed onto him. He's been with us ever since.

This is the first time we've been on a bridge since that day. We cross it in unusual silence, which continues as the university campus opens up around us. It's architecturally beautiful, tastefully forested, and unnaturally serene if you can ignore the dozens of bodies scattered over its lawns. Sleepers. Only Ditzy seems desensitized. She drives straight through, eyes sharp for obstacles, dodging any bodies on the road without batting an eye.

Then we're past, and the road opens up again. The atmosphere in the vehicle lightens. Ditzy digs a pair of glamorous shades from the glove compartment, then rolls down all the windows so the wind whips our hair. In another two minutes, we're taking the last intersection out of town and onto the highway. Ditzy shuts the windows again. I see what's coming the moment before she floors the gas pedal, and our screams and whoops fill the car. We have the road to ourselves. Calico J finds a saved song on his phone to blast in place of the radio, and we all sing along. I grip my seat and grin like an idiot. Everyone else's excitement is contagious.

After peaking at ninety miles an hour, Ditzy slows to a normal-fast highway speed so we can reopen the windows. By the end of an hour, we're all belting out our own renditions of popular songs we know even half the lyrics to. Calico J plays them on his phone when he has them saved. Someone breaks out snacks. It's a six-hour ride to Plyster-Anport county, but the first two hours fly by like nothing more than a joyride. After a quick break for lunch and a bathroom stop, we switch drivers, pile back into the car, and embark on the second leg of the journey.

This half is quieter. Some of that is because our throats are sore from howling, but there's a certain quiet to the road that weighs down like an invisible gravity blanket the longer we drive. We haven't passed a single moving vehicle. We've hardly passed an abandoned one, though they exist: I've spotted six so far, all of them gone off the side of the road after their owners fell to the Redding's curse while calling a loved one or emergency services.

Right around the four-hour mark, we pass a bigger accident scene. A car went over and burned at the side of the road. Dozens more are parked on either side, their occupants slumped over their steering wheels or collapsed just outside. At least half a dozen lie on the ground near the burned-out vehicle itself. I can picture each successive, unsuspecting driver pulling up behind the line of pulled-over vehicles, exploring the scene in horror, maybe even calling back to their loved ones. Then calling emergency services. They all went down. I slow as we drive past. There's no traffic to hold up as we survey the scene grimly, then speed up again without a word. You don't survive the apocalypse by dwelling on these scenes.

We make another, longer stop when the anxiety of the crash and the bridge catches up with Patrick, and he falls into a panic attack. I pull over. I think the car is a trigger, because Calico J pulls Patrick outside and sits him down in the grass there, facing the forest, like they've done this before. I join them. Nobody says anything, but even after Patrick recovers, we stay there for a while.