“No!” he snapped. “The ice is too thin!”

I wasn’t going to let him die. I looked towards the backpack. It was about a hundred feet away from me. Only a hundred feet. I turned away from shore and started to slide on my belly towards it.

“Erin!” yelled Danny, “No!”

I ignored him. The first thirty feet were okay. Then, as the ice thinned out, I started to hear cracking under me. I went slower, trying to make every movement syrupy smooth. Ice is strong, ice is strong. I thought of ice crystals, the water molecules locking together, icebergs punching through the steel hulls of ships, ice floes supporting polar bears. But as I felt the ice shift under me, other thoughts started to creep in. I started to think about the vibrations each movement was sending through the brittle ice, hairline cracks spiderwebbing outwards. About the weight of my body pressing down, splitting those cracks open further. About the heat of me soaking into the ice and melting it. Just a few more minutes, I prayed. Just hold together a few more minutes.

The backpack didn’t seem to be getting any closer. I couldn’t go fast or I’d fall through the ice but I couldn’t go too slow or the ice would break under Danny before I could get back to him. I took a deep breath and sped up, wincing as the cracking got louder.

When I reached the backpack, it was close to going through. The ice all around it was awash with freezing water.

“Erin!” yelled Danny. “Stop!”

I stretched out…but couldn’t reach the backpack. I shuffled a few inches closer and felt the ice sink under me.

“Erin!”

I strained, plucking the air with my fingertips…and just managed to hook one of the straps with a finger. I gritted my teeth and hauled the soaking backpack towards me until I could get a grip, then backed away from the thin ice, pulling it with me. I turned towards shore and belly-crawled until the ice was thicker, then got to my feet and ran. The ice here had split into car-sized islands that moved and tilted under me. I jumped over the gaps and finally made it to shore, not far from the little wooden building. Feeling grass under my feet was glorious but there was no time to enjoy it. I was safe, but now I had to save Danny.

40. Danny

40

DANNY

I watched her scamper over the floating ice islands, nimble as a squirrel. She passed the rope around the trunk of a tree, then picked up the end and started twirling it around her head, like a cowgirl with a lasso. Some of that Texas upbringing must have rubbed off on her because when she threw, the end of the rope landed within three feet of me.