“Maybe the force of the flood got slowed down by all the twists and turns? Or it just used itself up. The dam may be gone, but the flow of water is still amazing. All the rain, it powers the river.”

Mia agrees. “If we had a raft, we could use it for sure.”

I study the curve of the river. From above, you can see how it erodes the ravine walls, reshaping itself. Almost like the river is alive. I guess in a way, it is.

“What if we made a raft?” Imani suggests. “Use the rope we found to tie some logs together.”

The idea hits me like a surge of electricity. Yes!

“You’re a genius!” I give her a quick hug. She winces, clutching her side. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry!”

She shakes off the apology. Mia is already checking the backpack for the black rope retrieved from the remains of Sky’s van. “You think this is strong enough? Will it hold?”

There’s only one way to find out.

It takes us the rest of the day to climb down to river level and find a few logs that are the right size. Big enough to float three kids, but small enough so we can drag them into place. If we had a saw or a hatchet, it would be a lot easier, but we don’t.

“We work with what we have. What’s in the pack and what’s up here,” Mia says, tapping her forehead. “Have you ever built a log raft, Daniel?”

“No,” I admit.

She grins, eyes sparking with energy. “Me neither! There’s always a first time, right?”

The hardest part is figuring out how to use the rope. The logs need to be lashed together, tight as can be, and that’s a lot easier said than done. The knots keep slipping and the rope loosens, no matter how many times we wrap it around each log. Our raft keeps falling apart, even before it gets launched into the surging river.

Makes me wish I was a Scout. They learn about knots, I think.

Mia finally comes up with the idea of winding it tight, which is brilliant. We use a short stick, push it into the loose rope between logs, and then wind the stick until the rope tightens.

Mia sasses Imani, “Now who’s the genius? It is I, Maria Valentina Garcia, queen of not giving up!”

We’re sweaty and exhausted—not to mention hungry—and agree the launch should wait until morning. That way we’ll have the whole day to ride the current downriver, and keep clear of Deke and Tony, who are no doubt trying to catch up to us.

“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be at our destination,” Imani says confidently. “Heck, we could be in a helicopter, heading home. Or a private jet—wouldn’t that be cool?”