Brave

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Brave Page 13

by Jennifer Li Shotz


  Dylan strained his ears to pick up the sound—it was a low, steady whooshing. “Is that water?” he said.

  “But I didn’t see a stream or river on the way in, did you?” Grace asked.

  Dylan shook his head. “Come on.” He led them toward the sound, which grew louder and louder until they finally stumbled onto the edge of a churning stream.

  “What is th—” Dylan started to ask Grace. He looked down at the wide, rushing current of water that suddenly blocked their path where there had been no water before. Brave took one curious step toward it, stretching his snout forward, then decided he’d seen enough and scooted back to Dylan’s side.

  Dylan’s brain felt scrambled for a second, like he was seeing things where they didn’t belong, until all at once he realized what was happening.

  “Grace—” Dylan began, but she already understood.

  “Flash flood!” Grace said.

  “In the creek bed—” Dylan said.

  “All that rain . . . there was nowhere for it to go.”

  “Our bikes!” Dylan exclaimed.

  “Oh no,” Grace groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sure they’re gone by now.”

  “We’re not far from where we left them—let’s hurry,” Dylan said. “Maybe they got saved somehow.”

  They rushed along the bank, keeping an eye on the water level. By Dylan’s estimate, it had to be at least five feet deep, and it was still rising as rainwater streamed down from the hills around them. The rain had come down too fast, and the ground had been too parched and rocky to take it all in.

  “It’s right up here, I think,” Dylan said, picturing the big rock they’d leaned their bikes on. Brave trotted along beside him. They had come around a curve in the stream when all of a sudden, the dog’s whole demeanor changed. His head spun around and his ears swung forward and up. Every muscle in his body went taut, and he stared off into the distance. He had heard something on a frequency that Dylan and Grace couldn’t pick up.

  “What is it, Brave?” Dylan asked.

  “Shhhh.” Grace focused her eyes on the ground as she strained her ears to hear what Brave had tuned in to.

  Dylan tried too but heard nothing over the rush of the water. Brave was still on alert, though—and still listening carefully to something.

  They stood there, tense and silent, until a sound floated toward them.

  “Help!”

  Dylan and Grace looked at each other. “Jaxon!” they said at the same time.

  “Where is he?” Grace asked.

  “I can’t tell!” Dylan replied.

  “Help! Can anyone hear me?” Jaxon’s voice came again.

  “That way!” Dylan said, pointing up ahead. But Brave was way ahead of him. He shot off along the creek’s edge toward the sound of Jaxon’s calls, so fast that he ripped his leash from Dylan’s hand. Brave ran at full speed as Grace and Dylan trailed behind.

  “Help, somebody!” Jaxon screamed.

  “Jaxon!” Dylan responded. “Where are you?”

  Dylan and Grace caught up to Brave just as he came screeching to a halt. Dylan’s heart was pounding, and his chest hurt from running so hard. Brave paced back and forth along the water’s edge, his muzzle pointed up to the sky as he barked into the air excitedly. He pawed at the ground in a skittering dance.

  “Over here!” Jaxon called out.

  Dylan followed the sound of his voice, toward the water. At the center of the torrent, atop the flat rock where they had left their bikes, stood Jaxon. But the rock was almost entirely submerged. The water had risen so high that it splashed over Jaxon’s feet—and surrounded him on all sides.

  Jaxon was trapped.

  “Jaxon!” Dylan cried out. “Are you okay?”

  “Help me!” Jaxon called to them. “I’m stuck!”

  Brave’s barking reached a fever pitch. He took a few running steps into the rapid current of the creek until he was up to his chest.

  “Brave—no!” Dylan commanded him. Brave froze. “Come!” The dog splashed out of the water and snapped to Dylan’s side. Dylan turned to Grace. “We have to get Jaxon out of there,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Grace nodded, pressing her lips into a grim line. “But we also have to get ourselves out of here.” She pointed at the water, which was now lapping at their toes. “It’s still rising.”

  “We can’t leave him here!” Dylan said.

  “No, but if we get swept up in that, we’re not going to be able to help him at all.”

  Flash floods were incredibly dangerous, Dylan knew. They lived in what people called Flash Flood Alley—where dry creeks and riverbeds could easily overflow when it rained too fast and hard. His parents had told him a thousand times that even a few inches of water moving that fast could knock him down and sweep him away. And this was way more than a few inches.

  Dylan studied the water around Jaxon. It was fast-moving and rough, and it had swept up tons of debris in its path. He saw tree trunks and uprooted shrubbery and even a random rubber tire zip past.

  It was dangerous, but he couldn’t leave his friend out there in the middle of all that raging water.

  At Dylan’s side, Brave whimpered and pawed at the water’s edge. He had his eyes locked on Jaxon, and he was shaking. Dylan dropped to his knees to comfort the dog.

  “I know, buddy,” Dylan said. “We’re going to get Jaxon. And I know it’s loud—you’re doing great.” Brave seemed to calm down at the sound of Dylan’s voice. But the calming effect went both ways. Dylan wrapped his arms around Brave’s neck and took a long, slow breath.

  “Dylan?” Jaxon’s voice shook. “Hurry.” The water was up to his ankles.

  Dylan stood up, and Brave leaned against his leg. “It’s going to be okay,” Dylan called to Jaxon, trying to keep his own voice steady. “We’re going to get you out of there. Just give me a second to think.”

  “I don’t know if I have a second, Dyl.” Desperation rang through Jaxon’s voice.

  “You’re going to be fine, Jax, I promise.”

  Dylan turned to Grace. “How do we get to him?” he asked.

  Grace was chewing on her lip, her face screwed up with concentration. “We need some way to cross.”

  Just then, a long tree trunk swirled by on the surface of the water.

  “I have an idea,” Dylan said. It was risky, he knew, but it was the only choice they had. Dylan had made up his mind. He was going to save Jaxon, and he didn’t care how dangerous it was. Because that’s what friends did—they saved each other.

  ★ Chapter 24 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  “Dylan, this is a bad idea,” Grace said, one eye on the water at their feet. “This thing is getting higher by the second.”

  “We’ll be quick.” He looked upstream, squinting into the fading early-evening light. “There!” He pointed at a sheared-off tree branch that was speeding toward them. “Grab it!”

  Dylan and Grace leaned over and snatched at opposite ends of the branch just as it reached them. They hauled it out of the water and dropped it at their feet, falling backward onto the muddy ground. Brave skittered around them, barking.

  “Guys!” Jaxon called over. “What’s happening?”

  “Just hold on for me, okay, Jax?” Dylan replied. “We’re coming.”

  “Now what?” Grace asked, standing up and wiping the dirt from her hands onto her jeans.

  Dylan kicked at the narrow tree branch. “It’s not wide enough,” he said. “We need another one.”

  They positioned themselves by the water again and waited. It wasn’t long before another hunk of wood was headed right for them. They leaned over and stretched out their arms. “Three,” Dylan counted down. “Two. One—”

  “Watch out!” Jaxon screamed from the rock. Dylan and Grace jumped back just in time to avoid a wildly spinning chunk of concrete that had broken off somewhere up river and come hurtling toward them on the surface of the water.

  Dylan landed on his
backside with a resounding thud, knocking the wind out of him again. Grace lay on her back next to him, breathing heavily. Brave licked Dylan’s cheek, then turned to Grace and nudged her shoulder with his snout, as if to say Get up!

  “Thanks,” Dylan called to Jaxon.

  “No problem,” Jaxon replied.

  “One more time,” Grace said, getting to her feet again.

  On the next try, they caught another long, solid tree branch and laid it down next to the first.

  Dylan shook his head. “Still not enough,” he said. Grace nodded, and they turned back to the water for one more.

  Finally they had three strips of tree lying side by side. Together, they formed a surface wide enough to walk on—but now Dylan and Grace had to somehow connect them to one another.

  Grace pointed at Dylan’s feet. “Your shoelaces,” she said.

  Dylan quickly pulled them out. “Good start,” he said. “But they’re not strong enough.”

  Grace thought for a moment. “Brave’s leash!” she said. She unhooked it from his collar.

  “Brave, sit,” Dylan said firmly. Brave sat. “Stay.” Brave ducked his head and stayed put.

  Dylan tied the shoelaces together and used them to lash together one end of the log bridge. Grace wrapped the leash around the other end three times, then knotted it securely to itself. It was the best they were going to do under the circumstances.

  “Now how do we get it over to him?” Grace asked.

  Dylan had already thought that part through. “I’m going to wade out and lower it onto the rock.”

  “You can’t do that, Dylan!” Her eyes were round with fear. “It’s too dangerous!”

  “What’s our other choice?” Dylan asked. “He’s got nowhere to go and the water’s rising.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “You’re not letting me. I’m choosing to.”

  She grimaced. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

  Dylan wasn’t going to lie to her. “Nope. But there’s only one way to find out.”

  Grace covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “Ugh—fine,” she exclaimed. “But please don’t get hurt.”

  “I’ll try not to if you’ll try not to,” Dylan said.

  “Deal. Let’s go.”

  They raised up one end and dragged the heavy logs over to the water’s edge. Brave ran in loops around them, barking like he knew what they were thinking and wanted to talk them out of it.

  “Ready?” Dylan said.

  Grace nodded. She kneeled down and braced the end of the wooden structure that sat in the mud. Dylan lowered the other end toward the water. He stepped carefully into the rushing tide. The current was far stronger than he had imagined it could be. It wrapped itself around his ankles, then his calves, with a firm grasp, pushing and pulling him along with it. He wobbled under its pressure but managed to stay upright.

  “Dylan—be careful!” Jaxon shouted.

  “Hurry!” Grace yelled.

  Dylan waded out as far as he dared, until the water reached his knees. From where he stood, he could only lower the wood to a foot or so above the rock—and then he would have to drop it.

  “Watch out, Jax,” Dylan said. “Step back.”

  With a grunt, Dylan let go and threw his arms out to the side to catch his balance. The wood slammed into the rock. For a second, he feared the strong current would knock it off. But it stayed put, forming a bridge directly from where Jaxon stood to the other side, where Grace beckoned to him. Still in the water, Dylan leaned against the log ramp, bracing it with his body against the powerful flood.

  “Come on!” Grace shouted, waving her hands at Jaxon. “Cross over—quick!”

  “Dude, let’s go!” Dylan yelled. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold the tree trunks—or himself—in place.

  But Jaxon didn’t respond. He was frozen in fear, transfixed by the churning water. “I can’t.” His voice cracked.

  “Wait—what? No!” Dylan responded. “I mean yes, you can! You got this, Jaxon.” He steadied his voice. “You’re going to be fine . . . It’s just like . . . it’s just like . . . uh . . . walking on the sidewalk! No big deal. Come on now.”

  “It’s okay, Jaxon!” Grace called out. “We’re holding it still. We’re not going to let you fall.” She turned to Dylan. “What do we do?” she said loud enough that only Dylan could hear.

  “I don’t know.” Dylan hoped he didn’t seem as panicked as he felt. What if they couldn’t get Jaxon to cross over? They couldn’t leave him there—could they? Should they go for help? What if they left him but when they came back . . . it was too late?

  Dylan shook his head to clear it. His feet were aching from the cold water, and his legs were starting to shake.

  “Jaxon, I need you to listen to me,” Dylan said, his voice firm like he was giving Brave a command. “You just have to take the first step. And after that it’ll be easy.”

  Jaxon squeezed his eyes shut and took a few steadying breaths. “Okay,” he said. He opened them and stretched out his leg. Carefully, slowly, he put his toes on the wood, then the rest of his foot. He shifted his weight to lift up his other foot, and the whole thing wobbled.

  “No!” Jaxon screamed, jumping back and almost slipping off the rock.

  Before Dylan could utter a word, he saw a dark blur whip by out of the corner of his eye, headed right for the water.

  It was Brave.

  The dog leapt onto the bridge, which dipped under his weight. Dylan and Grace steadied it as best they could, and Brave was across it in a few graceful strides. He stood up on his hind legs and grabbed ahold of Jaxon’s T-shirt with his teeth, then spun around to pull him across.

  Jaxon had no choice—he either followed Brave or fell headfirst into the racing water. Too surprised to do anything but react, he did as Brave wanted him to. Jaxon put one foot down, then another, then the next.

  Dylan watched nervously, biting his tongue so he wouldn’t break the spell Jaxon seemed to be under. Soon, Jaxon was halfway across, and, for a split second, Dylan began to believe that his friend was going to make it. All thanks to Brave.

  Then, as if it were happening in slow motion, he watched a horrible scene play frame by frame.

  First, Brave released his hold on Jaxon’s shirt and turned to face forward. Then, Jaxon’s arms windmilled through the air as he started to lose his balance. His face contorted into a silent scream as his feet slipped on the wet wood, sliding out from under him. Brave spun around and snapped at the air with his jaw, trying to catch Jaxon, but it was too late.

  With barely a splash, Jaxon was in the water. Then he disappeared beneath the surface before the scream could even leave Dylan’s mouth.

  “No!” Grace cried.

  “Jaxon!” Dylan shouted.

  Brave barked wildly, leaning out over the water, all the fur on his back standing on end. Dylan felt helpless. He couldn’t dive in after his friend, because if he let go of the logs, then Brave would fall in too—and Jaxon would have nothing to hold on to when he came up again.

  If he came up again.

  Brave scurried back and forth across the ramp, then froze. He stared at a spot in the water that Dylan couldn’t see, and every muscle in his body flexed. Dylan realized what Brave was about to do just as he did it—but it was too late to stop him. Brave pushed off his back legs, stretched his front paws out, hurled himself into the water, and was gone. Dylan frantically scanned the surface for any sign of his friend or his dog, but for an excruciating few seconds, there was nothing.

  Behind him, Grace let out a strangled, fearful cry. Tears filled Dylan’s eyes. Then, all of a sudden, Brave broke through the surface, paddling and kicking hard and pulling Jaxon by the sleeve. Jaxon took a huge gulp of air and flailed his hands around until he got ahold of the log bridge. He pulled himself up onto it as Brave scrambled up next to him, his claws scratching at the wood.

  Dylan and Grace held their breath, an
d before they knew it, Brave and Jaxon had crawled across the ramp, over the water and onto slippery—but solid—ground.

  They were safe.

  Brave had saved Jaxon.

  ★ Chapter 25 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  Just as Jaxon collapsed into the mud, coughing up water, Dylan and Grace let go of their makeshift bridge and watched it spiral away on the swift current.

  Jaxon rolled onto his side and reached out a hand to Brave, who lay panting next to him. “Thank you, Brave,” he said. Brave stretched out his snout and licked water off Jaxon’s face, and Jaxon laughed out loud.

  Dylan and Grace dropped to the ground next to him.

  “That sucked,” Dylan said.

  “It really did,” Grace said.

  “But man, I’m glad you’re okay,” Dylan said to Jaxon.

  Jaxon sat up and looked from Dylan to Grace and back again. “I’m so sorry,” he said to them, his face twisted up like he was fighting to keep his composure. “I was wrong—so wrong. About everything.”

  “Wellll . . .” Dylan said. “You’re not entirely wrong there.”

  “I never should have shot off those fireworks,” Jaxon continued. “You told me it was a bad idea, but I didn’t listen. And I didn’t mean to scare Brave—he’s an awesome dog. I’m sorry I made him run away. He—” Jaxon swallowed hard. “He saved my life,” he managed to choke out. “You all did. Thank you.”

  Dylan let Jaxon’s words sink in. It had been so long since he’d seen this side of his friend—for a second it was like a time warp or something. This was who Jaxon really was. This was who Dylan had been missing all along. And this was the person he wanted Grace to know.

  “Apology accepted,” Dylan said. He turned to Grace, as if to say See—he’s not so bad!

  “But you have been treating Dylan really badly,” Grace piped in. “Can you promise you’ll stop?”

  “It’s okay, Gra—” Dylan started to say.

  “No, Dyl.” Jaxon held up a hand to interrupt him. “She’s right. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. And I will stop. I promise. It’s just that . . .” He looked guiltily at Grace, then back at Dylan. “We started middle school and you made a new friend and suddenly had Brave and the ranch and I just felt . . . left out. I was jealous. Like you were moving on without me.” Jaxon looked down at the ground. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”

 

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