the Rescue (2000) by Sparks Nicholas

Author:Sparks, Nicholas [Nicholas, Sparks,]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-12-19T00:40:20.859000+00:00

Taylor shook his head, numb. He knew he'd have to answer these questions again, when Joe grilled him in earnest. "I didn't know what else to do," he said.

Mitch studied him with concern, hearing the flat discomfort in his voice. He'd seen this look before, the shell-shocked appearance of someone who knew he was fortunate to be alive. He noticed Taylor's shaking hands and reached over, patting him on the back. "I'm just glad you're all right."

Taylor nodded, too tired to speak.

Chapter 17

Later that evening, once the situation on the bridge was fully under control, Taylor got in his car to head home. As he'd suspected, Joe had asked every question Mitch had and more, walking him through every decision and the reasons for it, covering everything two or three times. Though he was still as angry as Taylor had ever seen him, Taylor did his best to convince him that he hadn't acted recklessly. "Look," he said, "I didn't want to jump. But if I hadn't, neither of us would have made it."

To that, Joe had no reply.

His hands had stopped shaking, and his nervous system had gradually returned to normal, though he still felt drained. He was still shivering as he made his way down the quiet rural roads.

A few minutes later Taylor walked up the cracked cement steps to the small place he called home. He'd left the lights on in his haste to leave, and the house was almost welcoming when he entered. The paperwork from his business was still spread on the table, the calculator had been left on. The ice in his water glass had melted.

In the living room he could hear the television playing in the background; a ball game he'd been listening to had given way to the local news.

He set his keys on the counter and pulled off his shirt as he walked through the kitchen to the small room where he kept the washer and dryer. Holding open the lid, he dropped the shirt in the washer. He slipped off his shoes, then kicked them against the wall. Pants, socks, and underwear went in with the shirt, followed by detergent. After starting the washer, he grabbed a folded towel from the top of the dryer, made his way to the bathroom, and took a quick hot shower, rinsing the brackish water from his body.

Afterward he ran a quick brush through his hair, then walked through the house, turning everything off before slipping into bed.

He turned out the lights almost reluctantly. He wanted to sleep, he needed to sleep, but despite his exhaustion he suddenly knew that sleep wouldn't come. Instead, immediately upon closing his eyes, the images of the past several hours began to replay in his mind. Almost like a movie, some moved in fast-forward, others in reverse, but in each case they were different from what had actually happened. His were not the images of success-his were more like nightmares.

In one sequence after another, he watched helplessly as everything went wrong.

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