“Christ, would you hurry up?” Reed said.

Once Spud seemed satisfied, Reed took Pip’s wrist and led him to the edge. “We’re climbing down this hill.” He unclipped a roll of paracord from his pack, unwound fifteen feet of it, and tied an end to Pip’s belt, clipping the other end to his own waist buckle. “Stay behind me. Lean into the hill. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m scared,” Pip said quietly.

“It only looks scary because it’s dark, but you got a light. Let’s go.”

Reed started his descent, the hillside dipping sharply downward. The lamp on Pip’s head swiveled back and forth as he looked between his father and Spud, lighting the way for the useful idiot. “Dammit, Pip, pay attention to where you’re going.”

“What about Spud?”

“Will you forget about Spud? He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

Reed leaned into the slope, keeping the weight of the pack above his center of gravity. Behind him, Pip imitated his father’s movement. Reed grinned with self-satisfaction. There might be hope for Pip yet.

The three of them moved slowly, silently, down the wall, the roar of the cascade growing louder. The deeper into the valley they went, the more agile and confident Pip seemed to grow; he didn’t complain or whimper. Reed wanted to beat his chest and yell: I told you my boy is tough!

At the bottom, Reed made his way to a row of boulders that curved across the river. The first stone was an easy step, but the second lay eight feet out. The water had jammed a fallen pine up against the rocks, a makeshift bridge. After that, they could leapfrog across the remaining boulders to the other side.

The three gathered on the bank, and Reed pulled loose a few more feet of paracord, increasing the slack between him and Pip. “Now watch what I do, Pip,” he said. “One foot in front of the other.”

“Can’t you just carry him across?” Spud said.

“How’s he ever gonna learn a damned thing if we do it for him?” Reed pointed a finger at Spud. “You need to shut up and let me raise my boy.”

“You’re putting his life in danger.”

Reed looked away and closed his eyes. He took a slow breath to tamp down his rage. It would be a good lesson for Pip. The strongest will always prevail; the weak are expendable.

“He’s tied to a rope,” Reed said as calmly as he could.

Reed stepped onto the first boulder and then onto the pine trunk, the wood slippery beneath his feet. He held his arms out to the side like a tightrope walker and leaned forward slightly to keep the weight of the pack over his legs. “One foot in front of the other.”

When he got to the second stone, he turned and beckoned Pip, holding the paracord in his hands, ready to pull his son out of the river if it came to that.