“Paddle hard!” Ethan yelled.
Lily jammed her oar into the water and rowed. Her shoulders screamed, and her back muscles cried out. As she fought against the river’s tugs, her cold fingers felt numb and clumsy.
The raft rocked and jerked beneath them. She bounced, her butt lifting off her seat. When she slammed back down, she nearly toppled overboard. Righting herself, she hunched lower and braced herself.
“Dig, dig, dig!” Ethan shouted.
Heaving the oar against the current that tried to rip it right out of her hands, she dodged rocks that wanted to shred them to pieces, and pulled through eddies that threatened to suck the raft in different directions. She fought harder than she ever had in her whole life, against forces that tried to drag her against her will. She wouldn’t give in. She couldn’t. It was fight back or succumb to the will of the river.
Ethan paused to look around. “The raft won’t take much more.”
He was right. The water inside the raft had risen almost to her shins. No wonder it seemed harder to control.
She studied the path in front of them. Up ahead, beyond the spray and mist, the water smoothed out like someone had taken a butter knife and flattened the icing on a cake.
“Look,” she told him. “There’s a gap in the rapids.”
“It won’t last long, but at least there are shallows to pull up on.”
Between quick glances, she watched the rock walls shrink to nothing. The sloped land gradually leveled out with the river to create a shallow place to get to safety.
As he steered them toward it, she put her head down and focused all her energy into her muscles, imagined filling them with power to drive each stroke. They were getting closer. But the river was faster.
They were going to miss the shallows.
The next set of rapids loomed closer. Its roaring grew louder, filling her ears, drowning out their hard breathing.
As the shallows slipped by, high rock walls rose out of the water again. The raft bucked. Waves crashed inside it, like they weren’t sinking fast enough already.
By the time the raft scraped against the rocky wall, there was barely anything to bail out of. It was filling from the sides, quickly taking on water. It dragged them down.
“The raft has had it.” Ethan grabbed a yellow bag stored at the back. “Get ready to jump out, and keep away from it.”
As the water finally sucked the raft down, Lily’s foot caught beneath her seat. Her head dipped below the surface. For a panicked moment, she thrashed under water.
Finally, she kicked herself free. The lifejacket shot her back up, and she gasped for air. Remembering Ethan’s advice, she brought her feet up to float on her back.
The river swirled and churned around them as though they were in a pot of boiling water. Water filled her mouth and smacked her face. She coughed and sputtered.
Through the foam and spray raining down on her, she spotted Ethan next to her. They were both safe. They were going to make it.
She felt a push from behind as he shoved her toward the edge of the river. Her fingers scraped against the rock and brushed the tendrils of grass that teased her from the ledge above.
Finally, she snagged the gnarled roots of a bush. The current coiled around her torso, threatening to drag her away. She clenched it with everything she had, crying out as bark scraped her palms.
Ethan floated by, still gripping the yellow bag. She reached out to him. Their fingertips grazed before he slipped away.
At the last second, she saw the bag’s straps trailing in the water. She reached out and snagged one. Ethan jerked to a stop.
The muscles in her arm stretched. She gritted her teeth and held on tight, the bush in one hand, the strap in the other, and Ethan clinging to that. They linked together like one messed up Barrel of Monkeys game.
Crack.
The root beneath Lily’s hand twitched, sending a wave of panic through her body. The wood had splintered, hanging on by a few frayed fibers. It wouldn’t take much more.
Ethan must have realized it, too, because his mouth fell open in horror. His shocked gaze shifted and held hers for a heartbeat before it hardened with determination.
The root snapped and part of the bush fell into the water beside them. Her head dipped below the water. Ethan tugged on the bag strap linking them, and she surged toward him.
When they were close enough to touch, she reached out for him. Before she could grab hold, he brought his legs up to his chest and kicked straight out at her.
His shoes hit her lifejacket hard. She grunted. As she was jettisoned to the water’s edge, he let go of the yellow bag. Her lifejacket hit the rocks.
Instinctively, she grabbed at anything she could—rock, grass, dirt. She wormed and struggled her way out of the water and up to safety until she lay face down, breathing in moss and rich soil. Rolling onto her back, she pushed herself up and searched behind her.
Ethan wasn’t there.
A flash of red peeked out of the water downriver. His life jacket. He bobbed along the rapids, dipping in and out of sight as waves crashed over him. By pushing her to safety, he’d pushed himself away from shore and closer to certain doom.
Lily struggled to her feet, realizing only now that she was still clinging onto the floating yellow bag. Smashing, she’d even taken something that could’ve helped him stay buoyant in the river.
Maneuvering along the embankment, she weaved in and out of trees. She spotted red in the water again. He’d been dragged even farther away. The current was too fast. She wasn’t going to catch up.
She pressed on, urging her legs to move faster. Soon the land evened out, and she could run. The trees thinned, and she scanned the water.
Red. There he was, clinging to a rock about ten meters out. He was safe. But for how long? She could see his tortured face as he struggled to hang on, his body thrashing around in the water like a rag doll.
What could she do? She didn’t know how to save someone from drowning. She knew only how to save them with CPR once they’d been rescued. But she didn’t want to think about that scenario, so she shoved that thought aside.
She scoured the shore for something that could reach him. A vine, a branch, anything. Nothing was long enough. Then she inspected the bag in her hands.
Arms shaking like she’d swallowed a jackhammer, she opened the top. Rope. It was a length of bloody rope.
“That’s convenient.”
She vaguely recalled Matt mentioning the raft came stocked with one when he’d given the safety speech. Ethan must have meant to give it to her.
I believe in you.
Racing to the water’s edge, she tested the weight of the bag. She’d have only one shot at it since she didn’t know how to put the rope back inside without tying it in knots. She only hoped she could aim well enough.
“Ethan! Get ready!”
At the sound of her voice, he glanced at the shore. She clenched the end of the rope in one hand. With the other, she swung the bag back and forth twice for practice. Finally, she flung it out across the water.
Splash.
It hit the river not far above him. She watched the yellow bag dip from sight before popping up again right in front of him. But it was just out of reach.
He kicked off the rock, pushing himself away from it. He surged toward the rope floating like a snake on the surface.
As he reached out, Lily held her breath. Then the rope pulled taut, jerking her arm.
She heaved on her end, yanking him toward her. The power of the current threatened to drag her in and reclaim her.
She dug her heels into the loose gravel and fought. Floating on his back, Ethan splashed and kicked. Almost there.
Finally, he flopped safely at her feet. With a sigh, she collapsed next to him.
“Thanks,” he panted.
“Easy peasy.”