The Ford Contour barreled down the Northern California two-lane highway. At the wheel, Josh Michaels was feeling good. His visit had been worth the overnight stay in Bakersfield and the meeting with the new supplier had gone well. He had approved the contract and squeezed out an extra discount improving the project budget and was looking forward to his performance bonus when the drinking water plant came online.

Adding to his good mood was the drive home. He loved the narrow winding highways rather than the bland interstate. He preferred the challenge of the sharper bends with no shoulder, which created the illusion of greater speed. The close proximity of his car to stationary objects gave him a thrill he could not experience outside of a racetrack. The lack of patrolling police cars on the back roads meant he had the opportunity to bend the law as much as he wanted. And most importantly, because the major highway attracted all the traffic like bees to a honey pot, he would go miles before coming across another vehicle and when he did, he overtook it. And God damn it, the reason he used the highways and not the freeway was because it was fun.

One hand on the steering wheel, he removed the cellular phone from his shirt pocket. He selected a speed dial number and the phone chirped in his ear as it dialed. The phone rang three times before someone picked it up.

"Hello, the Michaels' Residence," a young girl's voice said.

"Hi, can I speak to the lady of the house, please?" Josh said pleasantly.

"Speaking."

"My darling wife how are you, it's good to hear your voice, I've missed you so much. How is everything? Have you sent the adoption papers off so we will be free of our troublesome daughter?"

"Is that you, daddy?"

"Oh no! You found me out," Josh said smiling.

"Yes daddy, I knew it was you when you started speaking," his daughter said, bored with Josh's poor attempt at deception.

"I wouldn't make a very good superhero would I?" Josh said, now grinning.

"No," she said disapprovingly.

Josh heard his wife speaking to his daughter in the background.

"Yes, it's daddy and he's talking about giving me away again," she said to her mother before returning her attention to her father, "Here's mommy."

"Hello Josh," she said, unimpressed.

"Hey babe."

"I wish you wouldn't say that stuff to her. She'll believe you one day."

"Abby knows I'm playing."

"I hope she does because you can pay for the years of therapy. Anyway where are you?"

"I'm about thirty minutes away."

"Are you going back to the office?"

"No, I'll give them call in a minute but I'll go in tomorrow."

"Okay then, see you later."

"See you about four."

Josh hung up and immediately punched another speed dial number. This time it was business. He got through to the project manager and filled him in on the site visit, the quality assessment and the new contract price. Josh promised to give him a full update in the morning. He hung up and put the phone on the seat next to him.

The phone calls out of the way, he settled into the drive home. He slowed for another small town that littered the seldom-used highway. These once vibrant townships were now forgotten, squeezed out by the all-powerful cities. Tiny places with forgettable names and a few hundred residents, they relied on passing trade for survival and barely received it. Storefronts displayed the names of the proprietors who ran them. No national chains here, there weren't enough consumers to warrant a franchise. Leaving the town, he accelerated up to seventy-five. The road unraveled before him, snaking across the land like an asphalt carpet. A clear road ahead, Josh pressed on.

Cresting the hill, the road fell away towards the river some two miles distant. The Ford gathered speed on the descent. Josh glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a vehicle in the distance. He had not seen the sports utility vehicle join the road. Like minds think alike, he mused. The car closed on Josh's Ford and he checked his speedometer, nearly seventy miles per hour. "Someone's in a bigger hurry than I am," he murmured to himself.

Josh hadn't been checking his mirrors, there wasn't any point, but now that he did, he saw in half the distance to the river the SUV had closed onto his tail. Menacingly, the large chrome radiator grill filled his rearview mirror like an alien beast about to consume him. Obscured by the close presence of the larger vehicle, the other driver wasn't even visible in Josh's other mirrors. The black sports utility clung to the Contour's bumper.

"Pass me, God damn it," Josh shouted, unnerved by the overbearing proximity of the vehicle.

As if answering Josh's request, the SUV darted out from behind him onto the left-hand side of the road, crossing the double yellow lines in the center. Side by side, both vehicles approached the steel truss bridge spanning the Sacramento River like two runners heading for the finish line. The SUV's chunky tires whined on the road and their sound droned in Josh's ears. The vehicle eased past Josh without effort, although Josh backed off slightly on the gas to assist the overtaking maneuver. At the speeds they were going, the thought of meeting an oncoming car scared him.

The SUV passed Josh and its rear was just ahead of his hood, when without warning it swerved back into his lane. With no time to think, Josh reacted to prevent a serious accident. He stamped on the brakes and yanked on the steering wheel, the power steering exaggerating his intentions, jerking the car violently to the right. The vehicles missed each other by a distance that could not be measured in inches. Josh's car crossed the white boundary line of the highway and left the safety of the road for the loose dirt of the makeshift shoulder. Wildly, the Ford slid on the slippery surface, fishtailing as it went, kicking up plumes of dust as the tires fought for traction. Cursing, Josh struggled to get the car under control, his actions as frantic as the vehicle's motions. Clutter of the modern car owner--cassettes, gasoline receipts, baseball caps and the phone, flew about the car's cabin like tiresome mosquitoes. Time was running out, the river loomed and he was on the wrong side of the white line to make the bridge crossing.

"Jesus Christ! You crazy fuck," he screamed at the other driver. Did the driver of the SUV have any idea what he had done?

Braking on the loose surface, the wheels locked but the anti-lock braking system released them to aid the speeding car. The bridge's concrete safety divider raced by. He had no chance to get back onto the road. Man and machine working in perfect harmony failed to stop the car in time.

The Ford leapt off the riverbank, trimming the tops of the scrub bushes as it went. Airborne, the car's nose pitched forward and it arced downwards like a derailed roller-coaster car. Josh's vision was filled with the view of the dark waters rushing up towards him. Fear grabbed him when he saw his fate, his hands gripped tightly onto the wheel and his fingernails cut grooves into his palms. He continued to jam his feet on the brake pedal in the vain hope it would prevent the car from ever hitting water. The weightless feeling in his stomach made him nauseous. He wanted to slam his eyes shut but a morbid curiosity kept them open.

The car's engine tone died in time with the slowing wheel revolutions. The Contour sounded as if was sighing. Resigned to the thought of its impending doom, the mechanical creature seemed noble in the face of defeat.

Falling, falling, falling, the Ford struck the unforgiving, sledgehammer hard water. Inside the car a dull thud reverberated on impact in conjunction with the splash of a thousand gallons of water being displaced around it. Water hissed on the hot exhaust and engine block like an attacking cobra.

The shock resistant bumper, unable to resist the shock was ripped off, dragged under the car and the hood buckled in sympathy. The side panels splayed and were shunted back into the door pillars. The trunk popped open and cast its contents into the river like a fisherman casting live bait. Pens, napkins from assorted fast food franchises and other diverse junk clattered against the back of Josh's head and the windshield.

Josh did not get to witness the impact. He felt a jolt of pain across his chest and his right side tingled. A billowing cloud mushroomed before him in an instant and his field of vision was filled with a silver-whiteness. For a moment he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Josh was not dead and he was not in heaven. The inertia reel seatbelt had locked, restraining his movement and the driver's air bag had detonated, exploding into his face. The chilling water seeping into his shoes told him he was not dead and the ordeal was not over. The car was in the water and sinking.

He smashed his fists into the deflating air bag, he had to see how bad it was--and it was bad. The car was tilted forward at an angle, the heavy engine forcing the crumpled hood under water while small waves lapped the windshield showing him glimpses of the depths of the river. Water leaked in from the door seals and from somewhere under the dashboard bulkhead. He realized he was halfway between both shores less than a hundred feet from safety. A hundred feet, it was less than the length of a swimming pool, easy for someone to swim. Except, Josh had never learned how.

He had taken a few lessons as a kid but had scared the shit out of himself when he went down a water slide and panicked when he found himself at the bottom of the deep end. Since then he had never been in water any deeper than his chest. The water slapped the windows at his shoulders.

He froze, paralyzed with fear, not knowing what to do; his feet were still on the brake pedal. He wanted to open the windows and cry for help but knew it would let the river in. He looked at the bridge for someone who might have seen him go off the road. The sports utility vehicle's driver stood on the bridge in front of his car leaning against the safety railing. The driver was watching him, watching his car sink, watching him drown. Josh screamed at him to help, to do something. The driver did nothing.

Josh could not see the man well enough to distinguish his features. Sunglasses and a baseball cap obscured the man's face. The sun glinted off the SUV's windows and reflected sunlight back at Josh but he could make out the driver's movements. The driver removed a cell phone and started punching in a number.

"Thank God," Josh said aloud and let his head drop. The emergency services would be on their way. He hoped they would get to him before the car sank. It was going to be okay.

The driver put the phone away, then did something Josh didn't understand. He held out his right arm, straight, perpendicular to his body and put his thumb up as if he was thumbing a ride. Slowly, the driver twisted his arm around until his thumb pointed down like he was a Roman Emperor giving the thumbs down to a vanquished gladiator.

Open-mouthed, Josh stared incredulously at the man. He could not believe it. What is he doing? What does he want? Does this man want me to die? It had never occurred to him that malice had been intended. He had assumed it was no more than an accident, he had been run off the road by someone who knew no better. The gesture was weird, bizarre. It didn't make sense. The only person who could help him didn't want to. Hands against the window, he murmured, "Help."

The driver put his arm down. He got into his vehicle and accelerated off the bridge.

Shock galvanized Josh into action. He reassessed his position. Water circulated around his ankles. He had a submariner's view of the murky depths of the river. With most of the windshield submerged, he was shown the depths but not the bottom. Silt mingled in the water blocked a clear view. River debris slid past, dragged along by the current, as was Josh's sinking car.

Suddenly, he realized he had the cell phone. He could use the cell phone. Uncoupling the seatbelt, he searched for the phone. He found it wedged between the windshield and the dashboard. He picked it up, saw the LCD display was cracked and hoped it didn't matter. He tried to dial 911 but could not get a dial tone. The shock of the collision had broken it. Josh cursed and threw the phone into the rapidly filling footwell.

The car continued to sink. The windshield was totally underwater now and the driver's side door was three quarters submerged. The water tugged at Josh's knees.

He could do only one thing. He could swim for it and hope for the best. I can do this, right? He knew the techniques. He just lacked the confidence. He pulled on the door handle to open the door but the force of the water and the buckled panels made it impossible. He tried the passenger door but it was the same story. He pressed the power window buttons but the electrical system had shorted out.

His exit points were blocked in the front but he had the rear passenger doors to try. He clambered into the car's rear; his every clumsy move made the car rock and roll in the water. Frantically, he tried the doors kicking and banging them but they were stuck just like the front ones. The windows were his last chance or otherwise he was going down with the car to drown on the riverbed. Josh had not been able to afford power windows all around at the time of purchase and he had cursed the inconvenience. He blessed his good fortune now.

He turned the handle. The mechanism strained against his weight, the water pressure on the window made the handle difficult to turn. He looked into the dirty green water pressed up against the window as flotsam nudged the glass like dirty faces in the night. He did not relish the prospect of the river and it's crap gushing into the car with him but he had no choice. He leant harder on the handle and felt the mechanism budge under the load.

Slowly and with great effort, the window moved. The glass retracted into the body of the door and he smelled the air on the river. He breathed in the pleasantly earthy freshness. He continued to wind the window down as the river broke over the level of the receding glass.

An arc of water flooded into the car with him. Christ, it's cold, he thought, as the water drenched his thighs and groin. Struggling with the overwhelming chill of the river, he took sharp hurried breaths. The window open, the water flooding in, the car sank at an accelerated rate and Josh had the disorientating sense he was falling. He had opened the window but not enough to get his athletic five foot ten body through. He retracted the window fully as the water climbed up his chest. The fear of swimming filled him as quickly as the water filled the car. Knowing his head would be under the surface at any moment, he took deep breaths to fill his lungs.

For a moment, a long moment, he hesitated. He did not move and held his head against the roof of the sinking vehicle. I can't do this. I don't wanna do this. Someone will save me, won't they? Not knowing whether he could do what he had to, he did nothing. Realizing doing nothing would not help him and action would do everything, he gripped the window frame against the force of the incoming water.

Josh took a final breath and held it. He threw himself through the open window but the river forced him back into the car with the strength of a nightclub bouncer refusing entry to a drunk. He fell back into the vehicle and swallowed water before he thrashed his way above the surface. He took refreshing gulps of air from the vastly diminishing pockets still left in the car.

The car disappeared below the level of the river and Josh was subjected to a view he didn't want to see. The pressure equalized in the car as it dropped to the riverbed allowing Josh to squeeze himself through the aperture and out of his watery would-be coffin. He made inefficient mauling motions with his arms and legs that could be construed as swimming. He lost most of his air on the way to surface and gulped mouthfuls of dirty river. He surfaced with a froth of effervescent bubbles spiraling up from the car, which dissolved into the river like a giant Alka-Seltzer tablet.

Coughing and spluttering, he took lungs full of life preserving air. Concentrating on breathing and not on swimming, he sank below the water. He reemerged, thrashing in some semblance of a crawl crossbred with a doggy paddle, which kept him buoyant.

Josh looked towards the safety of the shore and nothing else. Fighting for breath, he took mouthful-sized bites out of the water and smashed at the river with his arm and legs as if he were beating off an attacker. His motions took him slowly towards the shore but he had the added problem of the river current to contend with. The Sacramento River was a powerful beast with immense strength that had consumed many a good swimmer. He would be damned if he would lose to the river. He fought on.

His heart pounded against his ribcage making his chest hurt. Water filled his ears and making a sickening gurgling sound inside his head. His limbs were tired from the kicking and punching he had inflicted on the water and he felt the energy drain from them as if he had a leak. His head was going below the surface more often than it had and he still had fifty feet to swim.

Josh did not know where the strength or the ability to swim came from but they were getting him to shore. He kept his eyes on the riverbank coming closer and closer to his grasp. He wanted to make it. He had to make it. Invisible hands continued to tug at Josh dragging him further down river and his landing point on solid ground changed with every moment. It was not far now. Or was it just an illusion?

Fearing he would be lost to the river, Josh lunged with his hands for the shore and a hand struck the ground, silt compacted under his fingernails and he stopped swimming. His knees sank and touched down on the riverbed. To his relief, his head was still above water. He crawled like a babe on all fours and collapsed at the river's edge, his head barely clear of the water. He expelled air from his chest in sharp short breaths. Stars twinkled in his blurred vision and remained there even when he closed his eyes. He wanted the sour taste in his mouth to go away. He was happy to be safe but too tired to show it. Now that he had done what was necessary, his body relaxed and his bladder emptied its contents in the river.

"Yeah, piss on you," he murmured hoarsely to the river, smiling.

A buzzing rang in his head. The buzzing continued to get louder and he closed his eyes to put it out of his mind but the noise increased in volume and voices joined it. He felt the water swell and his body was shunted along the shore. He listened to the voices as he fell into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness. He was safe.