The Bridge Back: Sisters, Cousins, Foes and Lovers

Chapter One

The road was dark but the view of the bridge was clear inside the rapidly moving vehicle. Once the start up the bridge began, there would be no room to pass. Before embarking on the uphill ramp, the wind shifted like the quiet before the storm and a soft whistling sound emerged encompassing air around the car. Tall beams lined the full stretch of the bridge with many of them missing and some leaning from decay. As the vehicle approached the bridge, an echoing wind rang out with a slight pause between each beam that it past on its way up. The driver started losing speed on his climb up the bridge so he gripped the stick shift and moved to third. The engine reacted to the gear change with ease and precision as it zoomed forward on the uphill path. When it reached the peak of its climb up, the vehicle stabilized, and in the wind it went. The car was a frightening streak of medal and lights until it reached the detour where the lane forked. It slowed down a little as it took the curve around the one lane stretch toward the off ramp. The young man and woman inside the fast moving car didn’t seemed to mind the dangerous driving conditions they had encountered to cross the collapsing old bridge.

If we make it across we are home free, baby The driver said as he held the hand of the female passenger. The car had been racing through traffic for several miles causing a great stir with the other drivers far behind them on the other roads. There was two levels on the bridge but the start up consisted of two way traffic that seemed to bare off like a roller coaster. The fork in the road at the peak converted the traffic on both sides to two way lanes. Then the bridge wind sending vehicles either to the upper level or lower before reaching the end of it.

The bridge’s construction design was quite unique and ahead of its time. It serviced traffic on an upper and lower deck, with circling merging lanes and a steep uphill incline that was like driving up a mountain. The entire stretch of Brighton Bridge was three miles long. But not all of it was over water, some of it went over a dangerous terrain but still the bridge was falling apart daily. It was considered one of the most unsafe bridges in America and is referred to as Broken Bridge. Historically, it was built in the early part of the 1900’s as a secret passage for the smuggling of alcohol across state lines. Strangely, the bridge and the road leading to it was never put on any road map and technically did not exist. More to the point, it should have been demolished long ago but people still took chances across in order to tell their fables of high adventure. At times people would stumble upon the old bridge unaware of its fragile state trying to find their way back to a main highway. Some fell over the side meeting a terrible end because the guard rails fell apart years ago. There was nothing to protect the cars from falling off the bridge. After numerous accidental deaths on the bridge due to its decaying structure the Road Commission band the use of the bridge and the roads leading to it years ago. Unfortunately, they failed to tear down the bridge after they closed the roadway. Now another way to the bridge has been discovered and it continue to be used by haphazard thrill seekers, criminals and daredevils who have their own agendas on the bridge. One fact remains, no one has ever survived the plunge over the side.

The steering wheel was covered with prints from the sweaty palms of the driver that gripped it. He had a lot to be concerned with but he was determined to make it across the creepy old bridge in one piece. The car roared across the bumps on the road but did not slow down. A radio was playing that could not be heard clearly for the wind sweeping through the car windows. The temperature in the air was perfect but the wind blowing in the car drowned out the sounds inside. There was a briefcase in the backseat laying on top of a few loose papers that flapped noisily with the air blowing through the car. After a while, the papers worked their way free flying inside and outside of the car along the road. The couple in the car was too nervous to pay attention to what was going on inside the car. They seemed to be focus only on what was ahead of them and what was behind them on the road. The flying debris went unnoticed. They kept their eyes fastened on the road ahead and checked behind them every so often as though they were being followed. The wind blowing kept them from hearing each other’s heartbeats as they pound with adrenalin rushing through their bodies. They had to brace themselves for the final uncertainties that they might encounter ahead as they came to the end of the bridge. The car hurried its passengers to the merging lane on a perilous journey to destination unknown. Suddenly, they were met by blinding lights coming from the opposite direction. The other vehicle’s high beams were so bright until it blind everyone coming their way for a distance. At the rate of speed the couple traveled, it was impossible to see where the road curved. They had everything against them, a vehicle tailing them, high beams and they were moving at a dangerous rate of speed and not to mention, it was dark. The speed at which they were traveling scared the other drivers so badly that they simply stopped on the narrow shoulder. The bridge was scary enough on it own, but a speeder in the dark on a reckless course across the bridge was a little too much for amateurs trying out the bridge for the first time.

There was a vehicle in the rear on the bridge approaching at a high rate of speed. When they saw the headlights they gasp a little. It was obvious that they knew the driver and realized the position that they were in. The couple fastened their eyes upon each other for a split second as if time had stopped then they prepared themselves emotionally. There was no words exchanged just a quick look at each other that lasted a total of three seconds. The driver released the hand of the female passenger so that he could take hold of the stick shift and past the on coming traffic. The speed of the couple’s vehicle increased as they took the most dangerous part over the top, circling then merging downward and off. There was no barrier to protect them on the bridge. The driver handled the vehicle like an expert over Broken Bridge. It was perhaps the first time that the bridge had a driver speeding consistently throughout the entire stretch that did not meet its end along the way. When the female passenger saw the end of the bridge ahead she glanced at the driver and smiled. That twinkle in his eyes was back that had been absent and she remembered adoringly what he had meant to her.

She dared not show her emotion but she wanted to. Finally, they made it across the dangerous bridge just in time for the rain to start. Crossing the bridge did not change the speed at which they were traveling but they did breathe a sigh of relief after crossing it even though they still had a problem closing in on them.

It was quiet inside the vehicle and there was no conversation only eye contact. He gazed at the rear view mirror then into her eyes. He could see how much she struggled to reject him but he didn’t care. He tried to get her attention in order to tell her something but she wouldn’t acknowledge his attempts. Assuming the worse, she couldn’t bare to listen to anything that he had to say. She just kept her head turned away from him and focused on what was presently going on.

This was their night to end all nights which would otherwise marked a new beginning or an uncertain end. They held hands at first not because they were in love but because they needed assurance. No one was talking. Dialog was null and void even though they were riding in the same car. From her appearance it was obvious that she had endured a horrible ordeal. Her clothes was missing, she was dressed in a man’s jacket and a pair of panties underneath. Both earlobes were bleeding and she had scratches on her arms and face. A loaded gun was pressed between the driver’s bucket seat and the arm rest with only the butt exposed. The driver must have kept it there for easy access. From the state of the female, it seemed as though she had endure physical abuse to her body. She did not want to fall apart because she wanted the driver to remain focus. There was one sure fact about them, they were acquainted with one another.

The female’s passenger is Brooklyn Lawrence and the driver is Aaron Shepard, a struggling first year practicing attorney. If only he had been strait with her from the start all the prior events of the evening could have been voided. Aaron took Brook’s hand, kissed it and placed it over his heart. She hated him at that moment and what he was awakening in her. She felt his heart beating in the palm of her hand the way her own heart beat whenever she was near him. Brook had been through a lot and needed medical attention. Her body was bruised, bloody and battered. Besides all of it, the man that she loved broke her heart. Brook was determined to hold on to her hatred and not surrender it. I want give in no matter what we are going through right now. She thought to herself. Knowing that if she allowed Aaron to touch her in any way, it could cost her everything that she was protecting herself from. For a few minutes, there was a quiet peace between them as they turned their focus back to the road. Aaron accelerated to top speed and lost the vehicle somewhere on the road. The car behind them disappeared in the distance long enough for him to come up with an escape plan. He stopped the car and jumped out on the old road with the gun in his hand and told Brook to keep going. They only had a few seconds before the headlights would be spotted by the other driver coming about a minute behind. Aaron shut off the head lights to the car to give Brook a chance to get away. There was no time for goodbyes, everything was happening rather quickly. He shut the car door behind him and signaled her to go and not to stop. The car sped off out of sight disappearing into the darkness toward the main road just a couple miles away. Aaron ducted down behind a bush on the bank to avoid being seen by the driver in the approaching car. He planted his body flat with his arms extended pointing the gun at the road. He kissed the gun for luck and sighed. This is for you, Brooklyn. He whispered to himself.

A truck driver on the highway express spotted a fast moving object between the trees on the old path to the bridge. It was not slowing down and was about hundred feet away from a collision with the truck. Brook was still panic stricken and driving the vehicle on a strait path to the main highway without headlights. Unable to see clearly, the vehicle plowed through everything in its path. But just before reaching the end of the old road there stood an iron gate held shut with a chain and padlock on it Brook’s state of mind was to keep going no matter what. She was driving faster than she had ever driven in her life and it frightened her. Her body was soaked with blood and sweat and she was horribly afraid to stop. Forced to drive on the dark pathway was only one of the many dangers she had encountered throughout the evening and less than a mile away was freedom to her. Luckily the road was strait without curves so the final stretch was easy to drive in the dark. It was hard for the trucker to see exactly what was going on because it was dark and the trees got in the way. He tried to keep his eyes on the vehicle but for a split second he looked away to check his mirrors. Then an odd thing happened, when he look again for the vehicle. Brook’s vehicle had disappeared from plain view. As he got closer to the old road up ahead, all of a sudden the vehicle reemerged out of nowhere and it was coming right across his path. Brook’s vehicle rammed the gate sending fragments of broken metal sailing in the air upon impact. The truck driver saw the flying debris above the brush on the old road. Then in a flash, the car was on the highway crossing the path of the eighteen-wheeler truck. The truck hit the car sending it back to the same side of the road that it was trying to exit in an upside down position. The trucker skidded several feet before regaining control. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

Chapter Two

There were lights hovering above her in a circular motion slowly twirling almost hypnotically. She was able to hear the soft whispers of people around her asking the usual questions pertaining to an accident. Everybody was in a frenzy to get close enough to see the victim in the smoking pile of twisted metal on the road near Brighton Bridge. Brooklyn Lawrence was a beautiful woman that now laid helpless at the wreck as on-lookers past her by.

After the immediate impact, Brook was thrown from the car. She was calm but unable to move. Her battered body was numb and soaked with blood from the accident. The first thing that she recalled after being ejected was the voice of a stranger telling her not to give up. Brook was confused and suffering with partial amnesia. It was puzzling to everyone around her as to why she was wearing a man’s jacket, panties and yet there were no other clothes in the car. Unable to move, she laid motionless on the side of the wrecked car searching for a familiar face to comfort her. She tried to speak but she was too weak. Feeling alone and scared ignited warm damp tears to streamed slowly down her cheeks. A strange tingling sensation swept through her body which caused her to fall into a deep sleep. She fought to stay alert but she was too weak. Suddenly, she succumbed to the darkness.

Shortly after the wreck, an ambulance was on the scene to move Brook to a stretcher. The medics went through a series of tests checking her injuries before attempting to transport her to the nearest hospital. At first, she appeared lifeless to the medics after they tried administering several tests for a response. It took the shock treatment to bring her around. She heard a familiar voice calling for her in the distant telling her to open her eyes. The voice was in the distance but it was obvious someone among the spectators that knew her. Slowly her eyes were opened to a brown-eyed man about thirty wearing a wrinkled white suit. Good girl. I knew you could do it. He cheered. She just stared at him with her big brown eyes filled with tears. It seemed to her that perhaps it was the medic calling to her but the voice was different. His face was unshaved and he had long straggly hair.

It had been a long night for the medics all over the city. There were a series of accidents and emergencies all over the city. Just about every ambulance in the city was occupied somewhere. They were pulling a double at this point. The straggly haired medic had dizzy brown eyes, the kind of eyes that looked tired even when they wasn’t. He kept a close eye on Brook as they made their way to the hospital. Brook’s pulse was getting stronger as she regained consciousness. Desperately, she tried to piece together the voice calling to her and why they didn’t come forward. She wanted to remember what had happened but her memory was fading. Where was I going? She asked herself. She stared at the ceiling of the vehicle trying to piece together everything. Suddenly, her senses zoomed in on the aroma of coffee in the vehicle. The driver had a cup of coffee sitting in a cup holder that smelled delightfully like fresh brewed. The smell of the coffee triggered her memory causing flashes of places she had encountered somewhere. Brook saw an image of an old coffee shop in a rather seedy part of town that caused her to almost tremble in horror. She continued to lay motionless, sobbing quietly.

Brooks had been thrown from the vehicle and in serious condition. Most of her injuries were internal. Her pain was intensifying and the medic knew it. They were rushing to the hospital and shaking her body with hard bumps all the way as she laid helpless on the gurney. They were not far from the emergency room entrance when the one riding in the back yelled to the driver to hurry. She knew that she had to hold on and tried with all her might to resist the doom that awaited her. An image of a man flashed in her mind that she couldn’t see clearly was still laying on the road near the bridge. Her heart was prinked by him and it gave her the encouragement to hang in there and fight for her life. She saw him struggling to get to her but couldn’t. Who is this man? Brook wondered to herself. Suddenly she saw the same man place his jacket over her body. At that point, she wanted to cry out but only a warm stream of tears flowed down the side of her face. At first it seemed like a mere dream until the image was coming in clearer but then it faded away. All at once, her memory vanished and leaving him behind alone on an old abandoned road.

What she thought she could piece together from his likeness vanished from memory also. Brooklyn had no name, and no description of him left only that there was a man. Why did he covered me and why wasn’t I wearing my clothes? Her heart raced uncontrollably as she tried to piece together what had happened to her. It was quite obvious to her that there was an emotional involvement with him. Where is he now? She wondered.

Again she saw his blank face then a feeling of panic overtook her and she nearly gave up and died. Brook found herself back in the same situation on the road. This time it was the ambulance driver speeding through every intersection. There were bumps, dips and high dives all the way to the hospital with every second counting. The medic that sat in the back watched closely for changes in her vitals. He kept talking to her in an effort to keep her alert.

Chapter Three

Nurse! What’s happened to her? Will she be alright?" A striking middle age woman asked with panic in her voice. The nurse called for the doctor that stood near the nurse’s station to come over and speak to the lady. He was looking down at a clipboard scribbling and he didn’t notice the large group forming at the doorway where they had placed Brook. Several of her family members started in on the doctor the moment he walked over to them. They thrust a series of questions at him all talking at the same time that sounded like noisy rambling. Luckily the doctor was use to this sort of behavior from worried families and he was experienced to discern any attacks on him personally. He held up his hands to the group in his preparation to calm them down all the while explaining that yelling at him was pointless. They all settled down to hear what he had to say and he answered all their questions about Brook’s condition. Eva Lawrence, Brooklyn’s mother, was shaken to tears. She was an attractive older woman approaching middle age with defining features in her face which complimented her maturity. She had dimples and high cheeks. Her eyes were red from worrying and she couldn’t stop crying.

Tessa tried to console her but nothing was working. Tessa was Eva’s sister in-law. She had been married in her youth to a wealthy man from New Orleans. His untimely death after three years of marriage left her with a comfortable bank account which she now believes entitles her to the head position in the family. Her money has been spent spoiling her family.

Aunt Tessa gave a sort command to the group to settle down while the doctor spoke. No one was listening. Dr. Gary Jensen was one of the trauma specialists on duty usually worked the graveyard shift at the county hospital and he needed permission to operate. Do the patient have a spouse or parent present? He asked. I’m Mrs. Lawrence, her mother, doctor. Eva replied.

If you’d like to know what happened to your daughter, unfortunately I can’t help you with that since I don’t have all the facts. You may want to speak to the state trooper that arrived on the seen and made out the accident reports. Your daughter however has sustained quite a few injuries and we need to act quickly to help her. I am going to need your permission to operate right away. He said.

Whatever you have to do to save my child just do it. Eva replied. Dr. Jensen made a point of informing the family that there were signs of preexisting injuries that seemed to be present before the accident occurred."

What do you mean? Are you saying she was hurt before the wreck? Eva asked. I don’t have enough information to suggest that but there are a few unexplained injuries that could not have happened due to the accident. All that I can tell you right now is, we will do all that we can. The doctor stated. Brook had suffered a concussion along with two cracked ribs, a broken arm and her left leg was nearly severed and strangely both earlobes were ripped.

Dr. Jensen thought that she was not trying hard enough to fight her way out of this state. Most of her healing was going to depend on her mental state and it was as if she did not want to help herself. His diagnosis worried the entire family. We can do only so much as doctors. The rest will depend on her will to live. Dr. Jensen said. Are you saying my daughter don’t want to live? Eva replied. I am not saying that exactly but I can say we are giving your daughter the best help possible. Dr. White is a noted psychologist and highly regarded in her field. As soon as we see some signs of improvement in her condition we’ll set up some sessions. Your daughter will get better. He replied. She was notified shortly after your daughter arrived." Dr. Jensen boasted.

The doctor walked over to the patient’s chart and looked at it without raising his head to speak. "She’ll be in tomorrow morning to check on Brook’s condition. One thing is certain, she’s alive and her vitals are good. In a few months, with therapy, she’ll be good as new. It’s advisable