38. The Most Dangerous Thing

“Hush!” Deke says.

He turns in a slow circle, trying to determine where the cry for help came from. It hasn’t been repeated, at least not in the last minute or so. Was it something we imagined? Something we wanted to hear so bad that we mistook the cry of a bird?

No. It was real.

“Whoever it is, she’s probably injured. Maybe she passed out. We have to find her.” Deke holds out his hands. “Untie me so I can help. You want to find out if I can be trusted? Here’s your chance.”

Another noise or sound. Not a cry, but a faint whimper. Somewhere close.

Mia says, “Fine! Daniel?”

I take out my jackknife, open the blade, and cut the rope from his wrists. Instantly he runs to a debris pile and starts pulling aside broken branches. “Hey! We’re here! Make a noise and we’ll find you!”

But there are no more sounds. No cries for help. No whimpers. Deke, frantic, gets all the way to the bottom of that debris pile. Nothing there but busted trees and some small boulders from the flood.

“She has to be here!” Deke cries out. “Make a noise! Please make a noise!”

Silence.

Imani speaks quietly. “Sound carries over the water. It can fool you, right? You think something is close, but it’s not.”

Deke is frustrated. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe that cry for help came from the other side of the river.” She points. “There’s flood stuff over there, too.”

She’s right, at least about the debris piles on the opposite shore. But how to get there with no raft?

“Rope,” Deke says. “Tie the rope to my waist.”

“But we just cut it loose,” Mia says impatiently.

“Just do it. We need to hurry. Nobody else dies, not today.”

We retie the rope to his waist, and add another full coil of rope from the backpack. The river has narrowed to maybe fifty yards across, but the current has increased. Deke picks his spot and slogs into the water, standing strong against the current.

“Shallow here!” he shouts. “I can make it!”

Mia and I secure the rope, letting it out as he advances. Imani is on the riverbank, ready to jump in if necessary. She claims she’s a strong swimmer and has passed a lifeguard rescue test. Deke is right about the shallow area—the water never gets more than waist deep. He slips once or twice, but always regains his footing.

Before long, he clambers onto the opposite riverbank and shakes himself like a dog. “Come on over, the water’s fine!” he shouts. “I’ve got this end of the rope! I need your help to find her! Please!”