Chapter Eleven: Tragedy

Horror is the only thing Mark Logan could feel as gravity took the boat over the waterfall's edge. He grabbed his wife and put her in front of him, hoping to shield her from the impact of the water that would most likely kill him. But she would survive, her and the baby, and he would die content with that hope.

He hit the water first, the pain jolting through him like lightning. Screaming, he held onto his wife for all he was worth. Looking at her he realized she had slipped into unconsciousness upon impact and he had to keep her head above water. Struggling to swim, he miraculously managed to pull her head to the surface.

Kicking and swimming over to the other shoreline, he pulled his unconscious wife up onto the grass. He began to perform CPR, breathing into her mouth and pumping her chest. "Come on, Marie! Come on! I'm not gonna lose you like this!" He continued pumping until she started gasping and gagging.

"Easy, sweetheart," Mark murmured in her ear. He pulled her into a hug, cradling her to him. "Just breathe now, breathe. You'll be alright." It was a few moments before she could manage to speak.

"Mark, I'm having contractions," she gasped in pain. "Please help me!"

"Oh no, oh no!" Mark exclaimed. He moved his wife so she was in sitting position beneath a tree. The rain had subsided and the sun was beginning to show itself behind the clouds. Marie's breath came in pain filled gasps. "Come on, Marie, breathe. Easy now;' inhale, exhale, inhale, and exhale."

"That's easy for you to say, you're not pregnant and having a baby!" Marie grunted. "Oh God, help me! I think I'm gonna die!"

"You won't die, you'll be fine. I'm going to take care of everything," Mark reassured her. He tried to reassure himself of that. He was a geneticist, he wasn't sure if he could deliver a baby. He looked somewhat uncomfortable at the thought of actually doing it. He'd taken classes, but actually delivering a baby made him sweat profusely.

"Mark Logan, I don't want to hear you right now. In fact, when I'm done I'm gonna kill you!" Marie's breathing became hurried and rushed as if she couldn't get enough air.

"Hey, it's not my fault!"

"Oh yes it is, it's your fault! It's all your fault!"

"Will you stop blaming me and let me do what I need to do before I lose my nerve!"

"Mark. Logan. You. Are. Going. To. Die!" Marie growled before she let out a piercing scream of pain.

"Push, Marie come on! You'll be alright," he said as she glared daggers at him.

"I'll never forgive you for this!" she hissed as she continued pushing. Mark Logan delivered the baby, successfully, he hoped. Gathering the small newborn in his arms, he held her quietly giving Marie a chance to breathe.

"Forgive me now, sweetheart?" he asked, placing the infant in her mother's arms. "She's a beautiful baby girl."

Mark quietly handed his wife the baby. "Oh!" Marie murmured, "Look at her Mark!"

"She looks like you Marie," Mark smiled at her. Bending down, he kissed her lips gently.

"You always have to flatter me," Marie whispered weakly.

"Sh, rest Marie, you're tired. Try not to talk. I'm going to figure out a way to get some help." Rising to his feet, he began looking around. All their earthly possessions were miles away in their home. Any practical items were washed away by the flood. Sighing he returned to Marie. "I'm going to see if there are any roads nearby here. I don't want to leave you alone and—"

"Don't worry about me Mark; just go see if you can get help." Marie breathed resting her head against a tree. Mark began running through the dense foliage trying to peer through the trees, looking for signs of anyone who might be able to help them. He spotted two men; they were sitting in a jeep smoking cigarettes.

"Can you boy's help me? My wife just had a baby and I need to take her to a nearby town to get her two the hospital!"

"So?" said the man, "What do we care?"

"Stokes, the man's wife just had a baby!" the other retorted.

"Doesn't matter, Kurt," Stokes replied. "Get lost mister, before you tick me off!"

"Fine," Mark huffed, turning around, he began making his way back to his wife, he heard the man named Kurt say to Stokes, "Come on, man. That guy's wife had a baby! We could've helped 'em."

"We don't help people like that. Not with our line of work. What if they turn us in?"

"Doesn't matter now, that guy's long gone," Kurt puffed on his cigarette, forgetting about the man as he continued smoking. Stokes joined him and they put Mark Logan out of their minds.

He ran back to his wife, who was still lying there quietly. She looked paler than she had earlier and the exhausted look on her face made him worried. "Marie, I couldn't get help. I'll have to carry you to the hospital somewhere."

"No, no it's too late Mark," Marie said in a ragged voice. "I won't make it!"

"Don't you say that, sweetheart, you'll be fine! I'm going to take care of you! I promise; you'll be fin!" Mark knelt down and took her in his arms; she quietly cradled the baby in the crook of her arm and gently stroked his face with the other.

"Mark, you know it's too late for me," she whispered. "I've lived a good life. I can't go on anymore, my body won't do it."

"Marie, please!" Mark pleaded with her. "You're going to be alright! Don't talk like that!"

"You can't deny it, Mark, I'm going to die," her voice was faint, almost a whisper. "Take care of the baby…"

"What will I name her?" Mark asked.

His wife didn't say anything to him.

"I'll name her after you," Mark whispered, "So she'll always know who her mother was."

"The baby…little Marie…take care of her," the light in Marie's eyes began to fade.

"Marie, don't leave me, please!" Mark pulled her close to him, she felt limp in his arms.

"I love you, Mark," with great effort, she kissed him, sweet and sorrow-filled; she put the last of her strength into it. Mark responded to it as well, tears streaming down his face, this was the last, last kiss he would ever share with his beloved wife of six years. He gently pulled away as the last breath escaped her lips. He laid her lifeless body on the ground, and burst into deep, agonizing sobs, unwilling to let her go, and unable to live with the awful reality that she was dead. He stared and attempted to absorb the shock of it all.

He looked down at the little infant in his arms, he would take care of her, he was her father, he would always remember his wife, and one day he would tell her who her mother was, and what she had done for him.

He looked blankly back at his wife's body, and he was still in shock that she was dead…