“Shit! They’re covering the chute!”

It’s difficult to judge distance in the dark, but about a hundred yards ahead of us, a pair of headlights slices downward and across the narrow river, bright as a bonfire in the dark. And where those lights wait, guns are waiting too.

“We can’t make it past that!” I shout toward the stern. “We’ve got to get out!”

“Too late. We’re in the canyon.”

A jet of fear flushes through my system. I feel like a steer being driven into a slaughter chute. “We’ve got to get out of the kayak, then!”

“We can’t run the chute without it.”

I turn in disbelief, but all I see is Stone’s solemn face as he expertly wields the paddle.

The current continues to accelerate as the river is forced into an ever narrowing channel. The lights are only seventy yards away now.

“They won’t see us until we’re right on top of them,” Stone assures me. “We’ll be moving so fast, they’ll only have a couple of seconds to fire.”

“What if they have automatic weapons?”

“We need suppressing fire. Can you handle a rifle?”

I don’t bother to answer him. If we go through that chute in this kayak, we’ll be cut to pieces by anyone sighting down the beams of those headlights.

“Cage? Are you listening?”

As the lights loom closer, a bowel-churning roar reverberates between the walls. One thing I remember my raft guide telling me—just before he broke his leg—was that some white-water guides train by floating rivers wearing only life vests. If they can do that in preparation for making a living, Stone and I can do it without vests to save our lives.

“I said, take this rifle!” he yells.

Without hesitation, I throw myself onto the right gunwale of the kayak and press down with all my weight. Stone screams like a madman, but I ignore him, leaning harder and farther forward until the first rush of water surges over the side.

“Stop it, you damn fool!”

And then it is done. The inflatable tube that forms the right gunwale digs beyond the point of no return, and the river pours into the boat, swamping us in seconds. The shock of the cold water steals my breath again, but I roll over the side and into the main current.

The kayak is still floating upright—if mostly submerged—but Stone won’t be able to get it above water without my help. At last he heaves himself over the rear gunwale and into the river. As soon as he’s clear, the inflatable rises in the water. With a powerful wrenching move I flip it upside down in the current. When I let go, the buoyant craft rights itself as though nothing had happened.