Page 125 of River Wild

Carrie

We’re fifteen minutes into the thirty-minute drive to the hospital when my car starts making a sputtering, chugging noise. The car comes to a slow, rolling stop at the side of the road.

“Uh, what’s happening?” I wheeze out, mid-contraction pain.

I’ve been trying to keep track, but they seem to be coming thick and fast. And they’re getting more and more painful.

I’m going to need all the drugs when I get to the hospital.

“I don’t know.” River turns the ignition again, and nothing happens. “Wait here.”

He flicks the hazards on and climbs out of the car. He lifts the hood, and I see a crapload of smoke billow out of it.

I wind my window down and stick my head out of it. “What’s going on?”

“I’m no mechanic, but I’d say your shit car has broken down,” River grunts from under the hood.

“Hey! Don’t be hating on the Impala.”

His head appears around the hood. “Seriously? You’re in labor, your car broke down—our only current way to get you to the hospital—and you’re upset because I’m calling your car shit?”

Ugh. Fudgesicles. He’s right.

“I fucking knew we should have gone in my truck. But, oh no, we had to go in your car.”

“I didn’t know it was going to break down!” I yell at him.

He slams the hood down. “Well, this is just fucking great.”

I open the door and ungracefully clamber out of my car. “I don’t know what you’re annoyed about. I’m the one in la—bor—argh!”

I pitch forward, grabbing hold of the car door. River’s at my side in an instant.

“They’re getting worse,” River says.

“No kidding,” I bite.

“Be nice, Red.”

“Fudge off. I’ve currently got a baby playing Twister with my uterus, so I think it warrants me being a bee-yatch.”

“You mean, bitch.”

I give him an evil glare. The jerk just smiles.

I breathe deeply through my nose, letting the breath out of my mouth, riding the contraction out. River rubs my lower back. It helps.

“Let’s get you back in the car,” he tells me.

“Why? It’s not exactly going anywhere.” And neither are we. Panic starts to circle in my chest. “What are we going to do?” My voice has dropped to a whisper.

River looks around. The road is deserted. No cars have passed since we broke down.

“Someone will come soon.”

“And what are we going to do, hitch a ride?”

“You’re being bitchy again, Red.”