follow the road that runs parallel to the river. That’s the first place I’d think he’d go,” Jokester informs us as he jumps down the steps.
I take two at a time, and Mime whisks me off my feet to hurry the process along, then sets me on the ground. He gives me a quick pat on my shoulder before climbing into the passenger’s seat.
“I think we need to check the river,” I add my two cents in as I struggle to get into the backseat.
How high does a truck need to be? This is ridiculous.
I jump and claw on the leather seats to try and get some type of leverage and Mime watches me with amusement. “It isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny. Here.” Jokester grabs me by the back of the jacket and hauls me into the truck by tossing me as if I’m some sort of ragdoll. “No time to waste. The storm surge is nearly here, and we need to make sure we’re back before then. One hour. If we don’t find him—”
“Then you can leave me outside, and I’ll look for him on foot.”
“It’s too dangerous. He wouldn’t want that. You want to know why people didn’t jump at finding him? Because we’ve gotten to know him. He’s all about saving lives, and he wouldn’t want us risking ours. Believe me, we’ve heard a lecture from him a time or two.”
On their own accord, my eyes tumble to the back of my skull as I cross my arms. “I don’t give a damn about lectures. He can talk all he wants. I’m not going back until I bring him home.”
“Why do you care so much?” Jokester asks, and Mime’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror to watch what I say next.
“Because he cares about me, and he hasn’t ever hesitated when it comes to me, so he deserves the same. I’m not going to hesitate. Hesitating gets people killed.”
“You sound a lot like him.” Jokester takes the road slow as he turns on the wipers to clear the rain.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet instead. My eyes follow every tree, every bush, every leaf that blows in the wind. I can see the river from the road. While we’re going slow, and I think I’m focused enough to know if I could see a body, there’s a chance I missed him.
I sniffle, and Mime turns around in his seat. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling,” I tell him. “You must be going out of your mind.”
He nods and begins making gestures. Finally, he points to himself and lowers his hand to the ground.
“When you were a kid?”
He nods.
“Rainbow,” he mouths, but no sound comes out. Instead, Mime wraps his arms around himself and points to the center of his chest. He begins to make a gesture I don’t understand. It’s too erratic. Up and down. Waves, maybe?
“I don’t know,” I say apologetically.
He blows on his hand as if it is hot and then wipes his forehead.
My brain catches up. “A fire.”
He frowns and a veil of sadness masks his features.
“He saved you from a fire?” I question, trying to piece what he’s saying together.
He holds up the number two and makes the erratic hand motion again, followed by his palm arching through the air like a rainbow, then he shakes his head.
“Rainbow tried to save someone, but he couldn’t?”
“Their parents,” Jokester finishes Mime’s line of thought.
Mime huffs in aggravation as Jokester completes the conversation for him.
“What? We don’t have all damn night, Mime. I didn’t mean any harm by it. Anyway, they’re close. It’s just the two of them. Their parents died in a wildfire in California. It’s why Rainbow became a smokejumper. Jumpers rescued him and Mime, and now Rainbow thinks he has to save everyone, to make up for not being able to save their parents.” He glances at me in the mirror, staring at my black eye.
“I’m not someone that needs saving.”
“No?” he asks, not believing a word of it. “Doesn’t look that way to me. I don’t want to see my VP getting hurt.”
“There’s nothing I could do to a man like Rainbow.”
“If you believe that, then you must not know him too well yet,” Jokester replies, then inches his chin over the wheel. “Wait, look.” He points ahead of us. “Hey, that’s McDonald’s truck. Damn, it’s fucked.” Jokester pulls the truck off to the side of the road, and I don’t waste a second,