Mia and Imani drape themselves over the inflatable seats and grab the handholds. Locking themselves into position over Cindi, acting as her human shields, so she can’t be tossed out.

They look so determined that it inspires me to be better than I am. No matter how much it scares me, I’ll do my best. I’ll rise above.

“Get ready!” Deke shouts. “Here it comes!”

I’m on one side, armed with a paddle, he’s on the other. We’re going to keep this raft upright in the middle of the river. Cindi Beacon isn’t dying on our watch, no matter how rough the rapids. Bring it on, you crazy river!

And it does. The hush becomes a roar, and suddenly we’re in it, waves breaking over the sides. In that first moment, I’m drenched and blinded, my glasses so wet I can’t see anything clearly.

“Deke! Can’t see! Tell me what to do!”

“Okay! Wait, wait! Now! Go!”

I plunge the paddle deep and pull with all my might. One stroke, two.

“Stop! Wait! Go!”

Five more strokes, straining every muscle in my body. Ripping along with the white water is like riding a toboggan down a bumpy slope, only softer. I hope Cindi has passed out, because every twist and jounce must hurt. The raft is amazingly buoyant. No matter how steep the wave, it bounces back on top. Thanks to Sky Hanson for buying the best gear, and for teaching us the basics.

“Boulder dead ahead!” Deke screams. “GO! GO! GO!”

I’m battling blind, eyes stinging. Concentrating on keeping hold of the paddle, because without it we’d be lost. The water keeps trying to wrench it away, but I’d rather die than let go.

WHAM!

The raft slams into the side of the boulder. We spin in a circle, facing backward as the current rips us away.

“GO! GO!”

Straining to paddle as hard as possible and not fall out of the raft.

“STOP!”

With one hand, I clear my glasses enough so I can see we’re facing forward, and remain in the middle of the river. Then we’re thumping in steep shallows, barely clearing the rocky bottom. Mist rises from the turbulence like steam, making it difficult for either of us to see what lies ahead.

How long can this go on? Can poor Cindi survive the violent movements of the raft, which is being flung about like a beach ball in the surf?

“Almost clear! Hang on!”

We spin again, out of control. What did he mean, almost clear? Did we barely miss another rock?

The raft pitches forward—backward for us—and the bow area is submerged for a second before popping back up. Water swirls around my legs.

“Help her!” I scream. “She’ll drown!”