Wilderness Reunion

God, please don’t let me panic. Please don’t let me seize up. Please let me guide the sheriff and his men to the guy I saw and his marijuana. Let us get in and out safely.

The raft positioned and anchored in the water, Alice stood on the bank. Wide and wild, the Rogue River rushed past her, and she breathed in the familiar smells of nature—a clear and pristine rushing river, the boulders and fish and musty loam. Memories, both bad and good, swirled around her, tumbled over her like she’d been caught in the rapids. She couldn’t stay caught in the maelstrom of the past.

Everyone looked to her—she was their guide, after all. Heart pounding, she gave the signal and they climbed onto the raft. Alice sat in her position at the back and gripped the oars.

Her pulse jumped.

With so much riding on her, she didn’t have time to be scared. That was good.

Alice focused her attention, running down her mental checklist.

Breathe in. Breathe out. And just keep going.

She worked the oars, easing the raft away from the bank and into the current, working her way, egressing out to the center of the river. Nothing bad usually happened in the middle. It was the riverbanks with the sweepers, logs and rocks that were the issue.

The river took hold of the raft, and she had the distinct impression she no longer had control over her life. But that wasn’t true. That was only her fear getting in the way. The river might fool others, but Alice knew how to tame the beast. She always had, and she let the thrill of being on the river again—after eight excruciatingly long months—wash away thoughts of the tragedy. When she spotted Griffin studying her, gauging her, she heard his silent question loud and clear.

Are you okay?

Did he truly care or was he only concerned for his own skin? The question of his sincerity aside, she couldn’t help it—she beamed at him, and in return he smiled back, admiration in his expression. Real appreciation. It warmed her heart more than she would like. She shouldn’t care if he admired her. But it seemed he’d never lost confidence in her. Too bad she had lost confidence in him. Still, she couldn’t think about any of that.

The river could make them or break them, and they still had so far to go even once they made their point of entry into the wilderness where they would hike out. If they missed that entry point somehow and went too far down the river, they’d have to travel to the end of the Wild and Scenic portion because there was no way they could simply hike out—too many canyon walls to climb.

They had one shot.

That’s another reason why the sheriff had insisted on Alice as his guide, she was sure of it. Unfortunately, their route meant taking them through Blossom Bar and the Picket Fence where she’d lost a man, but she reminded herself just how many times she’d done that before the accident. She’d won a medal in the Olympics, for crying out loud. She’d just keep building up her confidence. It wouldn’t do for her to dump the sheriff, two deputies and Griffin in the river, or end up with someone drowning again while Alice guided them.

Everyone appeared energetic and focused on the river and obtaining their goals as they entered the Mule Creek Canyon and hit Class III rapids at the entrance. She shouted out instructions so the men could use the extra paddles and assist in maneuvering the currents created from the rock walls on either side, and avoid the boils, then another Class III rapid within the canyon.

Once they were through the rapid, she should have been exhilarated but her palms grew sweaty as her anxiety increased.

Blossom Bar was next. She’d lost someone there...

Griffin shot her a glance. Nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, then palmed his paddles. She refused to release her oar but gave him a subtle nod in return. What choice did she have? They had to face the rapids like everyone else. Like she had, so many times in the past.

As they approached Blossom Bar, the roar of her pulse grew louder than the roar of the rapids. It was a churning Class IV rapid, not even as challenging as the Class V they’d yet to face. Boulders lined up on one side and could snag them. Those were called the Picket Fence. That’s where the problems could arise. People had died there.

Seven in one year. One on her watch.

If she could make this, just make this, she might be free of her terror forever. The men held on to their paddles to assist her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted their help. Might be easier to go this alone in case someone misunderstood which direction they needed to go and put them in the boil. She couldn’t see Sheriff Kruse’s eyes behind his sunglasses, but she had the distinct impression he watched her like a hawk even as he focused on the furious water around them.

She didn’t have time to worry as the rapids caught them up, splashing and soaking them where they sat in the raft. Alice worked her oars and avoided the rocks, guiding them through.

“It’s all good, Alice.” Griffin dug his paddle in. “We’re doing this.”

“We’re going to the left of the big boulders first, then we’ll have to make a quick right. We want the line of rocks called Picket Fence to our left. Everybody got that?”

The men focused on the river as she guided the raft through the rapids around the large boulders.

“Now! Right, keep to the right. We’re approaching Picket Fence. Need to catch that eddy before the rocks.” She shouted over the roar of the rapids, hoping the men would follow through or not paddle at all. The hole on the other side of the line of rocks could suck them in and never let them go.

When the raft rushed past the boulders of the Picket Fence, they all whooped and hollered as if they were tourists on the river for fun, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Still, Alice felt a measure of pure elation, and she wanted to share it with Griffin. Why, why, had her thoughts gone to him first?

Holding his paddle, Griffin pumped both his arms in the air. “You did it, Alice. I knew you could!”

She didn’t respond, but couldn’t hide her response when hearing his words made her smile even bigger. She continued to work the oars, preparing for the next set of rapids, Devil’s Staircase. After that, their stop—their point of entry into the wilderness—would be up ahead where the canyon opened up. The last rapid was minor compared to the deadly stretch she had just guided them through.

Then gunfire echoed through the canyon, bouncing off the walls. Her heart rate spiked. Alice jerked her gaze up, fear crawling over her. That hadn’t been meant for her, had it? Or for them as a group?

But she had no time to worry about that and quickly refocused on the approaching rapids and falls. Except she was the only one. The men stared up the walls of the canyon and moved from their positions. Sheriff Kruse had dropped his paddles and held his weapon out and ready.

“Focus, people! Hang on!” she called.

Another shot rang out.

Oh, God, please help us! How could this be happening?

The raft tilted and swirled as it carried them, tumbling over the rapids even as Deputy Edwards grabbed his arm and fell out of the raft and into the water. At the same moment, the raft’s balance shifted on the rapids, the white water lifted it on one end, dumping everyone into the river with Deputy Edwards.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.