by April Henry
“Careful!” Jason shouted, dragging her back.
“Whoa there!” Darryl said.
“Are you okay?” Wyatt’s face was drawn with concern.
Before she answered, she put about twenty feet between her and the edge. “Someone pushed me!”
Her heart was a bird trapped in the cage of her ribs. Her gaze jumped from face to face. No one looked guilty, just puzzled.
“Why would anyone do that?” Marco asked.
“I didn’t see anything,” AJ said.
Already Natalia’s certainty was evaporating. Someone had definitely pressed her hard. Not just a press, but a shove. But maybe it had been an accident, a person losing their own balance who now didn’t want to admit having accidentally touched her. After all, why would anyone want to hurt her?
She decided to let it go. “I felt this pressure on my lower back. Maybe I overreacted to someone touching me. I was already anxious being so close to the edge. I just wanted to see if there was another way across.”
Seemingly unfazed by the drop, Jason leaned over. “Maybe we could climb down, cross over, and then climb back up the other side.”
“And how would we do that?” Ryan didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm. Ferns and moss had managed to find footholds in the steep rock, but there was no way a person could. “We don’t have rope or carabiners or climbing harnesses or basically anything. And even if we did, that’s freaking white water down there.” He held up his bandaged hand. “Half of us would never be able to get down, let alone up.”
Beatriz tilted her head back. “Could we climb over the gate?”
“Same problem, B,” Marco said. “Some people would have a real hard time getting over.” He gave the gate a shake. “And it seems kind of wobbly. If anyone fell off while they were climbing over and missed landing on the bridge…”
Wyatt raised his hands, linked his fingers on the chain links, and then gave the gate a hard shove. It groaned in protest.
The sound woke Trask, who had been asleep on Wyatt’s back. He started crying and kicking. “Mama! Mama!”
Both parents hurried up. “I’m right here, honey,” Lisa said. Ryan patted Trask’s back with his unburned hand.
The sight of the little boy rubbing his fists against his eyes made Natalia feel like she was fracturing. For the past six years, she had avoided toddlers the way she avoided fires. And now here she was with both.
“Can you set him down?” Lisa asked Wyatt. “He’s not going to stop crying unless I can hold him.”
Wyatt unbuckled the waistband of the child carrier, and Lisa helped him maneuver it off, Ryan awkwardly trying to help with his good hand. After unbuckling the child safety strap, Lisa lifted him out and held him on her hip, pressing his face to her chest. Trask was wearing baby overalls, the kind that unsnapped at the legs for diaper changes.
Wyatt started examining the chains and locks, pushing and pulling on various pieces. Everyone else took a break, setting down heavy packs, taking sips of water, or surreptitiously nibbling on trail mix. The air was thick with ash. Still coughing, Marco pulled the inhaler from his pocket, shook it, and took another puff.
“Where are we?” Susan scanned the group, looking confused.
“We’re at Sky Bridge, Susan,” Natalia said.
The older woman started. “Who are you?”
“I’m … I’m Natalia.” Maybe it was just hard for her to make out people’s faces in the dim and smoky light.
Susan wiped a hand over her face. “Oh, right, honey. Sky Bridge.”
Beatriz limped up to them. “Hey, Natalia, Do you have a Band-Aid I could have?”
Natalia looked down and winced. The sides of Beatriz’s heels were bruised and oozing blood. “It looks like you need more than that.”
“It’s my own fault for wearing stupid flip-flops instead of real shoes. We’ve been to the falls a bunch. But I never thought of it as, like, you know, the actual wilderness.”
Even if Natalia used up every Band-Aid she had, including the knuckle ones, they wouldn’t do much to protect Beatriz’s feet against further damage.
Ryan spoke up. “With your flip-flops, you’ve actually got the sole of a shoe. You just don’t have the vamp and the quarter—the top parts. But there might be a way to fix that.” He looked around. “Does anyone have an extra pair of socks Beatriz could use?”
“I do,” Wyatt said, surprising no one. After leaving the gate and locating his pack, he pulled out a pair of gray wool socks and handed them to Beatriz. “These might be a little big for you.”
“Big is good,” Ryan said. “I’m thinking if we pull them over Beatriz’s flip-flops they’ll stop sliding around. Kind of like a slipper sock, only inside out.”
Wyatt nodded. “You work on that and I’ll work on how to get us across.” He returned to the puzzle of the gate.
“Mind being my hands, Natalia?” Ryan asked.
“Not at all.”
The three of them sat down. Natalia pulled Beatriz’s right foot onto her lap and started using Band-Aids on the worst cuts.
Wyatt began pushing at the top of the makeshift gate. Marco joined in on the other side. “On my count,” Wyatt said. “One, two, three, push!”
They grunted, the chains squealed, and when they stopped thirty seconds later, it looked like they had managed to move it an inch or two.
Wyatt’s voice cracked with excitement. “I think if we keep pushing the top, we could pivot it from vertical to horizontal. Then we could crawl underneath.”
Darryl, AJ, and Jason joined them. Susan made no move to get up. She was sitting on a boulder, shoulders drooping, her face slack and vacant. Zion squeezed in next to his grandpa, but he was too short to reach as high as the others.
“Hey, buddy, why don’t you pull at the bottom?” Wyatt suggested to Zion. He counted again. “Okay, one, two, three!”
After covering up the worst of Beatriz’s cuts, Natalia tugged a sock over one flip-flop, working to get the sock’s heel to match the sandal’s heel. The other girl sucked in her breath but didn’t complain. Blue nosed her with a low whine. Beatriz put her arm around him and gave him a squeeze.
“He seems pretty chill,” Natalia observed as Susan reached out to pet him. Dogs usually made her nervous, but she was starting to relax around Blue.
“He’s the best. My sister’s kids like to dress him up, and he just sits there and lets them. Even when we all laugh at how ridiculous he looks.”
Natalia finished tugging on the second sock. As the guys worked on the gate, Beatriz got to her feet. She took a couple of tentative steps and then some more confident ones. “That feels good. Way more like a real shoe. Thanks, Ryan.”
“Slipper socks have the sole on the outside. I’m worried the socks will wear out too fast.” He snapped the fingers of his unburned hand. “Didn’t I see some duct tape in Wyatt’s first aid kit?”
When Natalia asked if they could use the duct tape, Wyatt nodded absently, focused on the progress they were making. She located it in his pack and held out the flattened roll to Ryan. “Do you think there’s enough?”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s hard to say. Wrap the toes and heels first and then if there’s enough you can fill in the rest.”
Natalia tore off a strip. When she pressed it on she realized she hadn’t made it long enough to meet at the top.
“For the next strip, try unwinding some tape and using the back to measure before you tear,” Beatriz suggested.
Natalia did. Adding first a strip to the right foot and then to the left, she gradually wrapped up Beatriz’s feet. Meanwhile, the bottom edge of the gate had now been forced about six inches above the ground. It wasn’t yet big enough for even Zion to fit underneath, but they were definitely making progress. Everyone was panting from the pushing, so Wyatt called for a five-minute break.
After Natalia pressed the last piece of duct tape into place, Beatriz crowed, “Disco boots!” She leaned back and kicked her feet in the air.
> “Just be careful,” Ryan said. “They’re probably slick.”
Beatriz squeezed his good hand in thanks and then hugged Natalia. One of Beatriz’s braids pressed into her cheek, and Natalia could smell the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo.
As she looked over Beatriz’s shoulder, her gaze snagged on AJ.
Even in the fading light, he looked pale and sweaty. He seemed to be panting. And he had one hand pressed to his chest.
“Are you okay, AJ?”
“It’s just—my chest hurts.” His panicked eyes met Natalia’s. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
CHAPTER 9
FIVE THINGS YOU CAN SEE
9:28 P.M.
IGNORING HER OWN RACING heart, Natalia moved closer to AJ. “What makes you think you’re having a heart attack?”
Any confidence she had gained evaporated. When it came to heart attacks, the Red Cross focused on the brief window between calling 9-1-1 and having real professionals take over.
But there were no paramedics out here. No ambulance. No sterile surfaces. No technology. No operating room. No board-certified surgeon. There was just Natalia and whatever she remembered from a few classes.
AJ’s face was pale, his eyes wide. One hand was pressed against the center of his rib cage. “Every time I pushed on the gate, I felt this sharp pain in my chest. And now my heart is racing! What if it keeps going faster and faster?”
His expression made it clear he was sure of the answer: if it did, then he would die.
Wyatt whispered into Natalia’s ear. “I know CPR, but not what to do with someone who has a pulse and is breathing.”
“I’ll try to figure out what’s happening.” She just hoped it didn’t come to needing Wyatt’s skills. “Can you get people to give us some space?”
Wyatt clapped his hands. “Hey, guys, why don’t we go back to pushing and let Natalia help AJ?” Beatriz took AJ’s place at the gate. Even Lisa carefully set a half-asleep Trask on Ryan’s lap, then joined the others. Only Susan stayed where she was.
It was a relief for Natalia not to have every eye on her. But if AJ really was having a heart attack, what could she realistically do?
Natalia could think of only one thing that might help. Digging through her first aid kit, she found the foil package of aspirin. “Do you have any problems with blood clotting?”
“No.” AJ’s voice shook, as if she was about to reveal some awful new piece of information. “Why?”
She pressed one of the two tablets into his sweaty hand. “Take this. But don’t swallow it—chew it. It will get in your system faster.” If it was a heart attack, aspirin would help inhibit the platelets that triggered clotting. Clots choked off blood flow, which led to tissue damage. An aspirin might lessen the effects.
And if AJ wasn’t having a heart attack, one aspirin shouldn’t hurt him.
She was getting ahead of herself. Natalia made herself go step by step. It took all her powers of concentration to ignore the smoke thickening the air and the roar of the fire as it ate its way toward them.
ABC. The only thing AJ had in his mouth was the aspirin he was chewing. When she asked him to take two deep breaths, they didn’t sound labored. With a heart attack, deep breathing should hurt. But AJ didn’t wince, his brows didn’t draw together, his jaw wasn’t clenched. She had to check his pulse, and this time it was important that she actually count. She called out to the others. “Does anyone have a watch with a second hand?”
“I have a Fitbit with a timer,” Darryl said. He stepped away from the gate, with Zion trailing after him. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head as he raised his wrist.
“Dude, why are you even still wearing those things?” Jason asked. “If you haven’t noticed, the sun’s gone down.”
It still wasn’t fully dark, partly because it was summer. And partly because of the fire lighting the horizon. But it was pretty dim.
Darryl pressed his lips together. “They’re prescription. My other glasses are back in the car. And without glasses, I can’t see more than a couple of feet away.”
“Come on, guys,” Beatriz said. “We need to keep pushing.” Next to her, Marco kept up a steady, light cough.
Natalia took AJ’s wrist and rolled her fingers until she found the notch. “Okay, Darryl, tell me when to start and then time thirty seconds.”
A light flared on Darryl’s wrist. “Ready?” he said. “Go.”
She started counting beats to herself, ignoring Wyatt’s cries of, “One, two, three—push!” Under her fingertips, AJ’s pulse was fast but steady. She had reached sixty-seven when Darryl said, “Stop.”
“Thanks, Darryl,” she said. “That’s all I need.”
As he and Zion rejoined the others, AJ asked, “So what’s the number?”
“Your heart rate’s 134.”
“That’s bad, isn’t it?” The corners of his mouth pulled down.
It was high, especially since he was no longer exerting himself, but Natalia didn’t think it was dangerously so. “It’s actually not that bad. And it’s strong and steady. Can you lift your T-shirt and show me exactly where it hurts?”
Tugging up the hem, AJ exposed a thatch of black hair. “Right here.” He pressed his fingers in the center and then dropped his hand. Natalia pressed on the same spot, trying not to grimace at the feeling of matted, sweaty hair. He winced, sucking in air. “Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes shone wetly in the pulsing radiance cast by the fire.
Another mnemonic the Red Cross taught was SAMPLE: Symptoms, Allergies, Medications, Pertinent medical history, Last ins and outs, and Events.
“And how would you describe the pain?” Natalia buried the worrisome word in the middle of her list. “Throbbing, sharp, pressing, electric…”
“Sharp.”
But people having heart attacks usually complained of pressure, not pain. They’d say it felt like having an elephant sit on their chest.
On the other hand, heart attacks were often brought on by exertion. And AJ had just been shoving on the gate as hard as he could. Natalia’s thoughts spun tighter. What if he passed out?
“Do you have any other symptoms besides pain?”
“I just feel really bad. Like I’m going to die.” His voice cracked.
At the gate, Wyatt called again, “One, two, three—push!” The wooden railings of the bridge groaned as the gate was pressed against them.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
A distracted shake of his head.
“Do you take any drugs, including, um”—she hesitated—“recreational?”
“Just Wellbutrin,” he said softly. “For depression.”
She pitched her voice for his ears alone. “I’m on Paxil.” The thing was, Natalia was beginning to think they might have more in common than antidepressants. Because she had felt like AJ before. Like she was going to die. Not like she wanted to die, although she’d also experienced that. But like she was going to physically die right that very second.
“Have you recently seen a doctor for anything?”
“I had a physical a few months ago. The doctor said I was fine. Just overweight and out of shape. Which isn’t fine at all. That’s why I decided to start hiking.” He made a sound like a laugh. “For my health.”
“Believe it or not, this was supposed to be my introduction to the joy of hiking.” Natalia smiled at AJ but got nothing back. She returned to her questions. “Have you had anything to eat or drink today?”
“Gatorade, chips, and a sandwich.”
She lowered her voice. “And have you been peeing and pooping normally?”
“Yeah.” AJ said it as if he was about to break. He had eyes for only the fire. The reddish light on his face flared and ebbed as the flames crept ever closer. His panic was catching.
What if they couldn’t force the gate open before the fire caught up with them? What if AJ really was dying? Terrible what-ifs flooded in, just as a half hour earlier she had really believed that someone h
ad pushed her. AJ’s reaction felt all too familiar. But, Natalia realized, that familiarity meant she had some ideas about how to fix things. For both of them.
“Okay, AJ, I need you to do something for me.” She was speaking, but it was Dr. Paris’s words coming from her mouth. “I need you to tell me five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.”
He didn’t respond.
“Five things you can see,” she prompted.
AJ shook his head, swallowed, and then his gaze finally unlatched from the horizon. “Um, your face, that tree, the baby, the dog, and uh, your pack.”
“Good! Now four things you can touch.”
He focused on the ground around them. “That big rock, that plant with the white flowers, my boots, and um, I guess the ground.” AJ set his palms on it, and she did as well. The cool dirt gave slightly under her hands.
“Okay, how about three things you can hear?”
“I can hear Wyatt counting. The water under the bridge.” He paused and shivered. “And, um, sorry, the fire.”
“It’s okay. That’s reality.” Dr. Paris had taught Natalia how to walk that fine line of truth, to acknowledge what had happened, while not falling into fear or despair or self-hatred. It was a narrow path, but it still led out of the darkness. “And two things you can smell?”
“Smoke.” He sniffed deeply, then a small smile raised his lips. “And me. For which I apologize.”
She returned his smile. “I’m pretty sure we all smell bad. Now what’s one thing you can taste?”
“My mouth tastes sour.”
AJ’s breathing had slowed, and fear no longer shadowed his face.
“How do you feel?” Natalia asked.
As he paused to think about it, the people pushing the gate let out a ragged cheer. Now it was nearly parallel with the bridge.
“Better. So what do you think’s wrong with me?”
“I think it might actually have been a panic attack.” Natalia chose the past tense on purpose. She wanted him to think of it as over. “I’ve had them before, too.”
“You mean it’s all in my head?”
