The Red Bridge

Molly

Con sniffed, "Can we ride the flood?" He was cold.

Molly felt chilly too. Her hands were starting to tremble, and goosebumps grew on her skin. Or perhaps, it was that she was horrified. Of dying. Of being snatched by the birds. Of being trampled by giants.

"They'll see us. And the current leads to the eye of the storm. We can't risk that." They were between Scylla and Charybdis - in its most literal meaning.

The flood was almost above their heads now. They kept to the safety of the staircase where it cannot reach them.

Con looked through the window. "Then we should hide."

Molly glimpsed the rainbow of waiting birds of prey, sitting atop the bridge railing, looking over the village. Blood painted the bridge in red, minced human flesh littered it. If she looked closely, she could identify toes and skulls among them. With all those food, you would have thought they'd had their fill. But Molly knew better than to risk it. "We don't know which house has any cellar. This one obviously has none."

Unable to cross the bridge, they had to retreat back into the houses, hatch another plan. So far the only thing that came to their heads was that they were going to die. Three children inside a stranger's home waiting to meet their fate.

Molly could not fight back the tears that swelled in her eyes. "I'm so scared."

Princess, seeing her, began to cry too.

Molly scooted over to her and held her shoulders. In her arms, Princess looked so small. "No, no. I'm sorry. Shhh. Don't. We're going to make it."

Con only looked at them, his face empty of tears. He dealt with his own despair in silence.

He was back to his old self. In the orphanage, he seldom talked. He could not stand or run so he was aloof with the boys. He did not seem to be acquainted to girls either, not even to Molly.

When the sisters declared that they need to evacuate, Con was all alone in his room. Molly did not even know and would not even have come back for him if Princess had not notified her. "Connie," P had said. And so the two of them retraced their steps, promising the sisters that they would be right behind, following. They found him sitting on his bed, listening to the wind.

By the look in his eyes, Molly was pretty sure then that Con was ready to die. Now, he had that same subdued look saying, It does not matter.

At least he was not insisting to be left behind.

However, the gusts were pounding stronger than before. The eye was approaching.

'God,' Molly prayed wordlessly, 'help us.' Molly had never prayed so sincerely before.

"Molly," Con said, "We should be moving now. With or without a plan. We're dying anyway."

After hearing that, Princess broke into tears again.

"I'll distract them," Molly said. "As soon as the bridge is clear, make a run for it. P, you need to help Con. You need to drag him." It was so unlike Molly. She only used to think of herself.

Con protested against the idea. "No! We're doing this together. I thought no one gets left behind."

"Molly," Princess cried, grasping onto her shirt, not wanting to let her go.

"There is no other way."

"I should be the bait. I'm the man here. I should be the one making all the sacrifices," Con began to weep too, helpless. He pounded on his useless unfeeling legs. "Damn you! Damn you!"

Molly restrained his hands. "Stop. You're not helping. Con, listen, never look back. Make for the other side. Promise me, promise me!"

Without saying anything, he enveloped her with his arms. They just cried on each other's shoulders.

It was Molly who broke off first. "Now, c'mon."

Molly tightened two ropes around her belly. One to drag Princess and one attached to a large stone to anchor them to the ground so that they don't get carried away by the flood.

Covered by the boat, she walked them over to the foot of the bridge. "Con, you will need to push yourself forward. P, you will need to help him. Okay?"

Princess nodded, Con just looked down, unable to meet her eyes.

Molly undid the ropes around her and let them fall. She heard Con sniffing again. She almost cried too. "It's okay. I'll be right behind you."

Then she dove into the flood and let herself be carried by the current, away from the two. The invisible fluid pushed her forward, making it easy for her to advance meters. She held her breath as she drifted along with fallen logs and refuse, not wanting to surface too soon. As she was far off but still visible to the birds, she reached for the lamppost, held onto it and waved. "Hey!" A few feathered heads turned. The upturned boat lay still on the pavement. "Here I am! I'm young and yummy. Don't you want my flesh, you fuckers!" She flashed them her middle finger.

The birds took off to the air and soared in her direction. When there were already a considerable number of them, she dove for the flood again and swam. She must not hide.

She heard the frantic beating of wings just behind her. It sounded like there were thousands of them.

She had to check. She grabbed for a fence and stood. They were hot on her trail. The boat was climbing up the bridge, slow but steady.

Then to her horror, a huge red bird descended upon her friends. It overturned the boat with its talons. Many more came. She forgot about the flock coming for her as she watched Con and Princess wrestle a bird's foot. It won. It grabbed Princess by the legs and sent her off balance, knocking her head on the pavement. After that she dangled limply, lifeless. Molly could hear a faint trace of Con's blood-curling yell amid all the gusts and flapping wings.

Con fought still. The red monster wrestled him with its beak as Con grabbed at its feathers and the crown on its head. He managed to tear them off. It almost had him in its talons but it suddenly stopped flailing.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds.

One of the birds that followed her poised for a grab as it came down.

She braced for the sharp talons to rip into her flesh, intinctively putting her free arm around her head.

A violent whip of wind hit her but no talons came. Breathing ruggedly, she looked over her arm and squinted at a generous rain of sunshine. The birds were suddenly gone. And the storm clouds. And the flood.

Her eyes shot to the bridge where an empty wooden boat slowly tumbled down the climb. There was no sign of Connie.

Stumbling and still dazed by all the turn-out of events, she walked for the bridge. She could not stop the trembling of her lips or suppress the utter despair that had taken root in her heart.

"Con!" she called. "Con!"

"Con," the wind echoed back her voice. It was eeriely quiet, even the breeze had abandoned her.

She climbed the bridge with tremulous feet, her knees so weak she feared they would buckle. She saw a smudge of blood where Princess had hit her head. Blood dripped on the railings and formed pools on the pavement around masses of flesh and shreds of human organs.

"Con," she called out again, this time without passion, hopeless as she was.

She continued down the path, not bothering to evade the human parts. She must have hit a man's head and sent it rolling. She could not see much. Her vision was swimming. Blood felt slick under her bare feet. Flesh squished when she stepped on them.

There were but more bodies as she went on. More red blood trickling down the road.

Her knees gave way at last. Fatigue had taken its toll.

But she had made it to the other side.