OverTime 03: Slipping (First 70 Chapters)

Chapter 51: Underwater (Lillabit)

The locale of Lightning Creek was a pretty enough spot, largely because of the creek itself. The narrow strip of water bisected a much wider notch of earth, like itty bitty cliffs to either side of it. A few trees clustered beyond those dry, secondary banks. Further to our west, rounded bluffs rose toward a flat overlook, so abruptly that beige earth overpowered the dull grass. Benj had ridden off that way, probably to watch for Slade Callahan from high ground.

So far, I'd heard nothing about Callahan following us. Maybe he didn't care about me after all, now that he'd taken out my friends. But I appreciated my menfolk staying so vigilant.

Still, I had a bad feeling. I didn't like the name of this creek. Lightning. It made me think of losing Murphy, back in Nebraska. The big chuck wagon almost falling on top of Jacob scared me, though I enjoyed the excitement of urging Jughead and Muddy forward, doing my part for the outfit. And when a gunshot interrupted everything--was that even a gunshot? I felt less surprised than resigned.

And then the calf cart went over, dumping both Clayton and Amos into the little creek... and they didn't come up!

Jacob had his hands full grabbing for Lulu, whose twisting and bucking had tipped the cart in the first place. So I jumped into the creek and let gravity take me down, even as my boots hit the muddy bottom. Inhaling deeply, I ducked under the surface, aiming for Clayton.

All sound changed, from wide-open wind to claustrophobic, submerged echoes. Worse, I could see nothing but a grainy brown swirl around me, mud fighting the sunshine.

Reaching outward, and down, I immediately found a flailing arm.

I grabbed it.

It grabbed me, too, yanking me down so hard that I hit my shoulder against an unseen edge of the cart and landed on my holstered hip. I had ignored the first tenet of water rescue, which was not getting drowned by the panicked victim, and I was paying for it.

Thank God the creek was so shallow! I managed to land a knee against the bottom and brace upward. At the same time, with a rush of current, the cart moved--someone had moved it. I straightened up, standing, dragging the arm and its suddenly freed owner with me.

Surfacing felt amazing--and noisy. A mule brayed, and horses galloped closer, and someone shouted questions about what was happening. Clayton, whom I'd dragged up with me, coughed and hacked loudly as he found his feet, water streaming from his hair and into his eyes.

"I'm all right," he gasped, staggering back from me. "I'm... my apologies, ma'am. I'm fine."

Apparently, Jacob and Schmidty had freed Lulu from the cart and then lifted it off of Clayton. Thank God!

Now I turned to check on Amos, who had merely fallen.

But I saw no Amos.

"Lizabeth." Jacob waded toward me with what looked like fury in his eyes, water slowing him considerably. He was probably mad about the wet revolver.

"Where's Amos?" I demanded--then recognized his intense glare as not fury so much as alarm. I didn't wait. I dove under again, now aiming downstream, groping past the slimy mud and mossy rocks of the grass-hairy creek bottom while water again muted the chaos above me.

Why hadn't Amos surfaced? Even if he'd hit his head in the fall, he should have floated!

My chest began to constrict, and I knew better than to wait too long, since my boots and clothes and five-pound gun didn't exactly make me a water creature. At least I wasn't dealing with layers. Having altered Murphy's canvas pants, I hadn't worn long underwear today. Even what clothes I had on felt like a lead coating as I stood, breaking the surface to gasp needed breaths of outdoor air. Hoofbeats, and shouts, and splashes announced the presence of others--but, standing hip-deep, I still saw no Amos.