clean, pebbly creek bed. After that she splashed along happily, getting wet up to her knees but not caring in the heat. It took her longer than she expected to reach the bridge where the creek crossed the lake road for the first time, and she decided that for today it would be enough to find the entrance near Joe’s. She climbed up the slippery verge, crossed the road, and slid in the thick mud all the way back down to the creek on the far side. She peered under the bridge, wondering if the next time she came this way she might just crawl under, but the two cement pipes that carried the creek under the bridge were barely sufficient to handle the water flow and one of them was almost entirely blocked by a dam of flotsam half-way through. She dismissed the thought and was turning to go when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.
Aubrey leaned in, but the water was too high in the blocked pipe for her to get close, and she didn’t have a flashlight. She splashed back to the bank and fought her way up to the road, creating deep furrows in the bank. She trudged across the road and slid back down the other side. From the back, the clear pipe was full but the one that was blocked only had a trickle of water coming through. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled in.
The pipe was only about ten feet long and the block was right in the middle. She reached it easily and tried to get a better look. From the other side she had only been able to see branches, mud and leaves with a hint of something else behind. From the back it was obvious that something large had caused the obstruction, and the rest had simply been caught against it. She didn’t want to touch it, already sure of what it must be. She pulled at one of the branches that had poked past it, hoping to dislodge it so that she could see it in the light of day.
The entire damn shifted when she pulled on the branch and the obstruction broke free. Aubrey found herself pushed backward out of the pipe at the head of a column of water. She slid out of the concrete pipe on her belly, her shirt pushed up under her chin and her face full of mud and flotsam. Her stomach scraped against the rough surface and she lost a layer of skin. When she came out of the pipe, the current spun her around and all the leaves and branches caught at the flesh of her arms and face as they rushed past her. She came to rest and opened her eyes to find herself staring into the huge, opaque eyes of the deer.
Joe was fishing on his dock. When he heard the clop of heavy boots on the wood he turned and saw Aubrey rushing toward him. The long black hair she normally kept so carefully pulled back had come free in places and long strands of it were plastered to her face. Her wet shirt clung to her heaving chest and belly, and blood was soaking through it all along her torso. Blood also welled up from the numerous small scratches that laced her arms and cheeks, and flowed freely from at least one deep gouge. It mixed with the water dripping off of her to trail in a thick snaky loop down her arms and drip from the tips of her fingers.
Joe’s heart leapt into his throat. He jumped up and met her along the dock, half-expecting her to collapse into his arms. Instead she took his hand and turned in mid-stride, pulling him back the way she had come.
He was prepared for hysterics and a near incoherent account of what had befallen her, but her insistent tugging and urging for him to hurry up and get some shoes on baffled him.
He did as he was told and wordlessly followed her back down the road toward the cabin. They passed it without stopping and continued on to the bridge. Aubrey finally stopped and pointed over the side triumphantly.
Joe looked down into the creek.
“What am I looking at?” Joe asked her.
Aubrey gaped at him. She turned and looked down at the empty creek. Water rushed below them placidly.
“It was here,” she insisted.
“What was?” Joe asked, completely
Aubrey leaned in, but the water was too high in the blocked pipe for her to get close, and she didn’t have a flashlight. She splashed back to the bank and fought her way up to the road, creating deep furrows in the bank. She trudged across the road and slid back down the other side. From the back, the clear pipe was full but the one that was blocked only had a trickle of water coming through. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled in.
The pipe was only about ten feet long and the block was right in the middle. She reached it easily and tried to get a better look. From the other side she had only been able to see branches, mud and leaves with a hint of something else behind. From the back it was obvious that something large had caused the obstruction, and the rest had simply been caught against it. She didn’t want to touch it, already sure of what it must be. She pulled at one of the branches that had poked past it, hoping to dislodge it so that she could see it in the light of day.
The entire damn shifted when she pulled on the branch and the obstruction broke free. Aubrey found herself pushed backward out of the pipe at the head of a column of water. She slid out of the concrete pipe on her belly, her shirt pushed up under her chin and her face full of mud and flotsam. Her stomach scraped against the rough surface and she lost a layer of skin. When she came out of the pipe, the current spun her around and all the leaves and branches caught at the flesh of her arms and face as they rushed past her. She came to rest and opened her eyes to find herself staring into the huge, opaque eyes of the deer.
Joe was fishing on his dock. When he heard the clop of heavy boots on the wood he turned and saw Aubrey rushing toward him. The long black hair she normally kept so carefully pulled back had come free in places and long strands of it were plastered to her face. Her wet shirt clung to her heaving chest and belly, and blood was soaking through it all along her torso. Blood also welled up from the numerous small scratches that laced her arms and cheeks, and flowed freely from at least one deep gouge. It mixed with the water dripping off of her to trail in a thick snaky loop down her arms and drip from the tips of her fingers.
Joe’s heart leapt into his throat. He jumped up and met her along the dock, half-expecting her to collapse into his arms. Instead she took his hand and turned in mid-stride, pulling him back the way she had come.
He was prepared for hysterics and a near incoherent account of what had befallen her, but her insistent tugging and urging for him to hurry up and get some shoes on baffled him.
He did as he was told and wordlessly followed her back down the road toward the cabin. They passed it without stopping and continued on to the bridge. Aubrey finally stopped and pointed over the side triumphantly.
Joe looked down into the creek.
“What am I looking at?” Joe asked her.
Aubrey gaped at him. She turned and looked down at the empty creek. Water rushed below them placidly.
“It was here,” she insisted.
“What was?” Joe asked, completely
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