Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

71: The Sinking Van

After a little while of riding, we came across a fenced field, with a large barn in the near distance. Rick rolled the van right into the fields green grass, and began heading towards the building, hoping there would be more food for us to take.

As we approached the barn, I started to hear a loud banging noise from atop the van. I furrowed my eyebrows, looking to my dad, and found he was looking up at the ceiling of the van, shaking his head angrily.

"That son of a bitch is on the roof!" he exclaimed, pointing upward.

"Hold on," Rick retorted, and immediately slammed down on the brakes. I went lurching forward, but Dad outstretched his arm to stop me from connecting with the dashboard.

Outside the van, Paul tumbled down from the roof to the ground, causing loud thuds to ring through the air. He stood up soon after, and lifted his hand as if he were about to speak.

He made a run for it.

"No way," Dad muttered, jumping out of the van and breaking into a sprint after the guy.

Rick, fuming, began to try and chase him in the van, but it was to no avail; both Dad and Paul were making sharp, unexpected turns, causing Rick to have to shift into reverse and change directions multiple times. Eventually, he halted it to a stop near the edge of the lake bank, and jumped out of the van.

I made a move to go after him, but he was quick to stop me. "Stay here, in case he goes for the truck," he told me quickly before shutting the door after him. He locked it from the outside with the keys, and I sighed, slightly frustrated.

I watched them run around like chickens with their heads cut off for at least a minute before Paul made a break for the truck, Dad hot on his heel. Paul tried to open the door when he got the vehicle, but Dad slammed into him from behind, hitting the side of the van like a freight train. Dad took him by his shoulders and threw him to the side like he was nothing, and the chase was back on.

It wasn't until then I noticed that the van was suddenly rolling.

Directly into the lake.

I don't know how, but Dad must've knocked into the van so hard that a mechanism went loose, and it shifted gears. By the time I noticed, the pedals were already submerged. I tried to shift the vehicle into park, but the stick was jammed; it wouldn't move an inch. My next plan was to knock out the window with my elbow, but the glass was immensely strong. I rammed it a few times until my elbow throbbed, and by then, the water was already up to the seat. Why did Rick have to lock that damn door?

"Guys! Hey, over here!" I yelled as loud as I could, pounding on the window as my legs began to go beneath the water. It was fall, slowly turning to winter, in Virginia, so the water was naturally cold, causing me to gasp.

"Come on! Unlock the damn door!" I screamed, throttling the car door handle. Soon enough, though, it was submerged, along with my upper body. The water was completely covering the dashboard, only leaving a small pocket of air near the ceiling.

As the water rose and took up the last bit of air I had, I drew in the deepest breath I could manage, and ducked underwater. There had to be a way for me to get out of that damn van, and I just needed to find it, preferably before I drowned.

I tried banging on the window harshly a few more times, but the water slurred my movement, making me feel like I was moving in slow motion. The impact of my ramming was no more than a knock, and was therefore useless.

Becoming frantic, I looked around me for any possible way to escape. As I looked to the ceiling, I noticed something I hadn't before, and immediately swam up to it. I put my hands on the handle of the sunroof, pulling as hard as I could. It didn't budge.

I was running out of air, and fast. I could feel my chest heaving, desperate for air. I grasped the bar of the sunroof as tightly as I could, and gave it the strongest pull I could muster, given the circumstances.

Thank God it moved.

It had slid just enough for me to prop my hands up against the sunroof, and push it the rest of the way open. It fought against me, but eventually caved, and I kicked up from where I was standing in the car, propelling myself upwards.

I knew I needed to get air, because black spots were beginning to cloud the outskirts of my vision. If I passed out underwater, I would surely die.

I saw the light growing closer as I swam upwards, my chest screaming desperately for air. As I grew closer, the black spots grew bigger, and I stretched my hand upwards as far as it could go until I felt a cool rush of air breeze between my fingertips.

With one last kick, my head was above water, and I was getting as much air into my lungs as I could. The spots faded away, and I began to shiver with the cold air blowing onto me.

"Sidney! Hey, can ya get to me?!" I looked forward, and saw that Dad was wading in the water, a worried expression etched onto his face.

Wordlessly, I gave him an exhausted nod, and paddled my way to him. He wasn't too far away, thankfully, because I wasn't sure if I would've been able to go much further than I did.

Once I reached him, he held me by the waist, and I draped an arm across his shoulders. We weren't too far from the shore by then, so he soon was able to walk out of the water, me clinging to him like a limp rag-doll.

When we reached land, I collapsed to the ground, still gasping and suddenly feeling exhausted. "Ya alright, hon?" Dad asked, rubbing my back as I attempted to hold myself up on my hands and knees. I gave a weak nod, and saw Rick running over in my peripheral vision.

"Nice idea to lock me," I breathed, "in the car, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Sidney, I didn't know," he said, squatting down to better see me. I could tell by his voice that he was sincere, and felt guilty about what happened. "Are you okay?"

I let out an affirmative hum, and attempted to stand up, only for my legs to crumple beneath me. I fell to the ground again, and I think I would've ate the dirt if Dad didn't break my fall for me. "Alright, c'mere, girl," he said, and didn't hesitate in scooping me into his arms.

For some reason, I suppose because of the physical trauma of literally almost dying, I was in sort of a dazed, exhausted state. I felt like I didn't have any strength whatsoever; talking even felt like a Herculean task.

Instead of trying to fight the exhaustion, I just let it overtake me, figuring our run was over. I hooked my arms around Dad's neck and rested my head against his chest. I was shaking like a leaf in the cold air, and Dad was the only source of warmth I could find, even though his clothes were soaked from coming into the water after me.

But, before I could think another thought about being cold or how exhausted I was, I had succumbed to the exhaustion, and fell asleep right then and there, in the security of my dad's arms.