“Cory, you’re up!” Noah called out.
Cory picked up the long tree branch they were using as a bat and raised it above his head. The branch bobbed behind him, and he crouched into a perfect hitter’s stance. Ben nodded, impressed.
“You ready?” Ben asked. Cory nodded. Ben pulled his knee up and his arm back and lobbed a pitch toward Cory.
THWACK!
Cory connected and nailed the ball so hard it flew over Ben’s head. The little guys in the outfield scrambled toward it, bumping into each other and bursting out laughing. Jack and Hero ran after the ball, racing each other. Hero got to it first, just before it rolled downhill at the edge of the clearing. Jack wrestled the ball playfully from Hero’s mouth. Scout ran over and tried to snatch it back, chasing Jack around the outfield. Jack laughed loud and long.
“Hey, you two!” Ben called out. “He’s gonna score! Throw the ball!”
Sure enough, Cory stepped on Ben’s backpack, then Jack’s, then rounded Ben’s hat toward home.
“Get him!” Ben cried. Jack lobbed the ball, and Ben realized they had no catcher. He dashed in from the pitcher’s mound, but didn’t make it in time. Cory put his foot down on Noah’s backpack just as the ball smacked into the ground. Ben was still a few feet away.
“Home run!” Noah cheered, picking Cory up in a bear hug.
Cory raised his arms in the air in triumph, while Noah spun him around and his teammates cheered. Cory looked like a kid without a care in the world. His face was lit up with joy, and he grinned from ear to ear.
For one beautiful, unforgettable moment, the Boy Scouts didn’t look cold and wet. They didn’t seem to care that it was raining again, or that they’d just barely survived a hurricane. They didn’t look scared or exhausted. They just looked like kids playing a pickup game of baseball. And up in the air, his damp hair flying out around him, Cory looked to Ben like any happy kid who’d just hit a home run.
20
THEIR HOOTS AND HOLLERS ECHOED ACROSS the valley below them. Ben and Jack had an ace slugger on their team, it turned out—Diego, the tiniest of all the Boy Scouts, a skinny blond kid with a killer swing. He sent the ball whizzing past Noah. Hero went after it, and Noah chased Hero in a circle while the little kids cackled.
The cool air felt gentle and clean on Ben’s face. He looked up at the sky, where he saw a faint glimmer of light on the horizon. It was dawn—they had been out in the woods for more than twelve hours. The sun came up quickly and began to warm them.
The hurricane had passed.
It was Ben’s turn at bat. He stepped to Noah’s backpack and tapped the tip of the branch on the ground a couple times. As he raised the wood over his shoulder, something caught his eye—something in the sky beyond the outfield. Ben couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Look at that.” He laughed, pointing. Jack, Noah, and the Boy Scouts spun around and turned their gaze upward. They let out a collective gasp as they saw it too—a crystal clear, perfect rainbow arcing across the sky like a beacon of hope to them all.
And then, in the distance, Ben heard the sound he’d been waiting for since the second he hung up the phone with his dad: helicopters. Their rotors churned in the distance, drawing nearer and growing louder by the second.
“They’re here!” the little boys screamed, jumping up and down on the wet ground.
“Quick—make an X!” Emmett yelled out, and the other Boy Scouts immediately knew what he meant. They ran over to him, fell into a single-file line, and began dragging the toes of their right hiking boots through the mud, digging a deep rut in the wet earth. First they dug out a straight line, about ten feet long. Then they made a second line that crossed the first at an angle.
It was a perfect X carved out in the ground, and it would be visible from the sky, a signal for the helicopter. Jack, Noah, and Ben exchanged a look and nodded at each other, impressed.
The sound of the chopper blades got louder. “Okay, kids, let’s give the helicopters some space,” Jack called out. He and Noah herded the boys toward the back of the clearing, against a large rock. The first helicopter grew larger and larger until it was right above them, while the second one hovered on the opposite side of the clearing. Their hair whipped around, and their hats flew off their heads. Hero ran over to Ben and sat down next to him, leaning against Ben’s leg. Scout scuttled over to Jack. Jack picked up the puppy and held him tight.
Ben wondered if they would all fit in one helicopter or if they would have to split up into two groups. At least the Boy Scouts were little. He looked back at them, huddled together with Noah and Jack.
Ben froze. Something wasn’t right. In fact, something was terribly wrong.
There were only six Boy Scouts.
He counted again, just to be sure. Six. He looked at their faces—who was missing?
It only took him a second to realize who it was. Cory.
Ben’s heart pounded in his chest. How long had Cory been gone? How did he let this happen? Ben kicked at the ground in frustration. He fumbled around in his backpack. Sure enough, the walkie-talkie was gone.
Cory had taken it with him. And Ben knew exactly where he had gone: back to his dad. There was no other explanation. Ben understood why—he would never have been able to leave his own dad there, alone and hurting so badly. But still. Didn’t Cory realize how dangerous it was out there, especially by himself? Images flashed through Ben’s mind: the alligator’s snapping jaws, the flash flood filling the valley in seconds, the mud swallowing the creek and raging toward them. He shuddered.
They would never have made it through without each other—Ben, Noah, Jack, Hero, and Scout had all worked together to get them to safety. Cory was so young and small, and the forest was huge. What if he got off the path? What if he got lost trying to get back to his dad? What if he couldn’t find the cave, and now father and son were both in danger?
Ben’s throat was tight with fear. A rope ladder was unfurling from the closest helicopter, and several men in full uniform and gear were swinging down toward them. The noise was deafening—he knew Jack and Noah wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if he could yell right now.
There was no time to wait.
“Hero, let’s go!” Ben said. While everyone else kept their eyes locked on the helicopters, Ben and Hero took off running down the trail.
The farther they descended along the path, the darker it got as the trees blocked out the early morning sunlight.
They rounded a curve, and Ben found himself standing in front of a fallen tree blocking his path. Hero dashed under it. Ben had no choice but to do the same. The trunk was unsteady, and Ben held his breath as he ducked under it.
They continued downhill, and Ben wondered how Cory could have gotten so far so fast. He called Cory’s name and scanned the tree line for any sign of the boy. Nothing.
Then Ben heard a sound that made his mouth go dry with fear. At first he thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but he heard it again.
“Help!”
It was Cory, crying for help somewhere off to the right, toward the raging creek.
“Hero, go get Cory!” Ben commanded. Hero shot off through the trees. Hero moved so lightly through the woods that Ben couldn’t even hear him going. But he did hear the water in the distance, running faster and louder than before.
“Oh no—” Ben muttered as a horrible realization hit him.
Cory wasn’t near the water. He was in the water. The muddy, raging, dangerous, debris-filled water.
Hero got to Cory first. The boy was in the creek up to his chin. The water churned so hard that it splashed right onto Cory’s face, barely giving him time to catch his breath. Cory was clinging tightly to the roots of a tree on the bank. The fast-moving water was gradually pushing him downstream, and his hands were slipping farther and farther toward the end of the roots. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
Hero ran back and forth along the water’s edge, his paws splashing in the current. He
started to run into the brisk stream toward Cory, just as Ben ran up behind him.
“Hero, wait!” Ben cried. Hero stopped and waited for Ben’s command. “Hang on, Cory!”
“I can’t!” Cory yelled.
“You have to. Hold on tight,” Ben called. “We’re going to get you—you’re going to be fine, okay?”
Ben grabbed a long tree branch from the ground. He hefted it with both hands and swung it out over the water. He angled it toward Cory.
“Hang on,” Ben said. “Don’t reach for it until I tell you to, okay?”
Cory nodded.
Ben walked forward until the water covered his feet. He slipped on the muddy bottom but kept his balance. He positioned the end of the branch as close to Cory’s hands as he could and tucked the wide end of it under his armpit to brace it. Then he steadied himself and planted his feet firmly.
“Okay, Cory—slowly now, take one hand off and put it on the branch.”
Nervously, Cory did as he was told. He held on to the roots with one hand, and carefully grabbed on to the branch with the other.
“You got it?” Ben asked. Cory nodded. Ben made sure he still had a good hold on the branch. He steadied himself again. Once Cory let go of the roots in the water, his weight would be fully on the branch, and Ben would have to hold on tight—and keep his balance. Ben took a breath and exhaled slowly. Hero darted from Ben toward Cory and back. He wanted to help, but Ben had to do this one on his own.
“Okay,” Ben said, “when I say one, you let go with the other hand and grab on, okay?” Cory nodded. Ben counted out loud this time. “Three . . . two . . . one—go!”
Cory let go of the roots and latched on to the long branch with both hands. Ben staggered under the weight of the boy and the rushing current. He fought to regain his balance. He gripped the branch tightly and took a big step backward, pulling Cory toward the shore.
“Hold on,” Ben called out. He took another step back. Cory moved in closer. Ben strained against Cory’s weight. Was he getting heavier? How was it getting harder to pull him in instead of easier?
“I think I’m stuck!” Cory screamed. “Ben—my backpack—it’s stuck on something!”
“It’s okay—I got you, Cory. Don’t worry,” Ben called back. He hoped he sounded convincing, because he had no idea what to do next. Cory couldn’t take off his backpack. If he let go with either hand, he wouldn’t be able to hold on, and the water would carry him away. Ben couldn’t hold on much longer either. His arms were starting to shake, and sweat broke out on his brow.
His only choice was to push Cory backward a little and hope the pack loosened itself.
“Okay, Cory—here’s what we’re going to do,” Ben said. “I’m going to slowly push you back out into the water a little—”
“No!” Cory cried, terrified. “Please, no—”
The fear in his voice broke Ben’s heart.
“It’s okay,” Ben soothed him. “It’s going to be fine. We can do this—think of everything we’ve done already! This is nothing, right?”
“Right,” Cory said, sounding uncertain.
“Okay, here I go.” Ben took one small step forward. Cory moved backward in the water. The powerful current buffeted him around, and Ben felt the branch digging into his side. “Hang on,” Ben grunted. He took another step forward. Suddenly the stick grew lighter in Ben’s hands. It bounced sharply upward, just as Cory let out a scared cry.
Cory had lost his grip. He was only holding on with one small hand.
Ben saw Cory’s other hand waving in the air. “Cory! Grab on with both hands!”
“I can’t!” Cory shouted back. The strong current pushed him back and forth, and his body bobbed up and down.
Ben didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t hang on much longer—and neither could Cory.
Suddenly, Ben flew backward, landing on his back in the mud. The tree branch had snapped, and Cory was rushing downstream, trapped in the powerful flow of water.
Ben didn’t stop to think. He threw off his backpack, pushed himself up off the muddy ground, and ran straight toward the water. He jumped in and started swimming frantically, trying to reach the boy. But the current was too strong. It knocked Ben around, tossing and spinning him in the water. Hero barked and ran along the shore, keeping pace.
“Cory!” Ben managed to yell before getting a mouthful of muddy water. He coughed it up.
“Ben! Help me!” Cory called from up ahead. Ben tried to straighten himself out so he could swim to Cory, but he couldn’t fight the water. The current swept Ben downstream until he bumped into a rock. He reached out to grab it, but his hands slipped right off of the slick, mossy stone.
Hero ran ahead and took a few steps into the rough, murky water. As Cory moved past, his arms flailing in the air, Hero tried to catch hold of Cory’s jacket with his teeth. But the tiny boy was moving too fast.
Hero tried again as Ben flew by. Ben reached out a hand to grab on to Hero’s collar, but at the last moment, the current yanked Ben in the other direction.
As he swept by, hurtling downstream on the rough water, Ben’s fingertips brushed against Hero’s soft fur.
21
BEN STRUGGLED TO KEEP HIS FACE above the water so he could breathe. Cory was only a few feet ahead of him now, almost within reach. Ben felt his leg brush against a large rock. Quickly, he kicked off from the rock, propelling himself forward. It worked—he got close enough to grab the strap of Cory’s backpack.
Ben pulled Cory in close and held him with one arm around his chest. The boy was shivering from the cold and the shock.
“I got you,” Ben said.
Cory spluttered water. “I need to get to my dad.”
“The helicopters came,” Ben reassured him, spitting out water so he could talk. “The rescue team is going to find him.”
Cory nodded. His teeth chattered.
Ben was trying hard not to panic. He frantically cast his eyes about for something—anything—he could grab to stop them from continuing downstream. But they were in the middle of the creek and moving so fast that every time he spotted a branch or tree root, they swept past it too quickly.
Where was Hero?
With some effort, Ben twisted his body, kicked with both feet and used his free hand to paddle them in a half circle. Finally, he could see forward instead of backward.
Ben spotted Hero up ahead, running at top speed along the edge of the creek. He stopped to look at something. Ben and Cory were hurtling toward him—they had about thirty yards to go before they caught up to him. Ben couldn’t tell exactly what Hero was doing—it looked like he was jumping up and down. No—wait—he was slamming himself into something. Ben squinted and shook the water off his face so he could see clearly.
Hero was throwing himself against a fallen tree. The massive trunk leaned precariously against another tree by the creek bed.
Hero was trying to knock it down.
Because if he could knock it down, it would fall across the creek, right in their path. And Ben and Cory would be able to grab on to it for sure.
Every time Ben thought Hero couldn’t possibly impress him more, he was wrong. Hero never seemed to run out of ways to prove how amazing he was.
They were drawing closer. Hero was butting his head against the tree, digging his paws into the mud and pushing as hard as he could. Every muscle in his body was flexed, and his fur stood on end. Ben was scared he was going to hurt himself. But he was also scared that Hero wouldn’t be able to get the tree down in time, and then what? Hero was their only hope.
The tree trunk wobbled. Hero pushed at it again with the flat part on the top of his head. The trunk shook and started to move forward, then rolled back into place. Hero pushed again. The roots pulled up from the muddy ground, flinging dirt and rocks all over Hero’s coat. He gave one more hard push. With a loud crack, the last of the roots gave way, and everything toppled.
The long tree trunk came down with a splash right into the water. Ben a
nd Cory were so close to it that the water sprayed them.
“Hold on tight, okay, Cory?” Ben said.
“Okay,” Cory said, his voice small and scared.
As they rushed by, Ben reached out with his free arm and snagged the tree trunk. He and Cory slammed into it with intense force—pain radiated from Ben’s ribs through his entire body. But he didn’t care. He squeezed the trunk tightly and helped Cory wrap both arms around it too.
“Go!” Ben said. Cory scrambled arm over arm along the trunk, pulling himself toward the shore. Hero waited for him there. As soon as Cory got close enough, Hero ran into the water, latched on to Cory’s jacket with his teeth, and began pulling him onto land. Cory rolled onto the ground, coughing and spitting up water. He turned onto his stomach and got on all fours. Hero sniffed at him and licked the water off his face.
Ben pulled himself toward land. He crawled onto the muddy ground, gasping for air. It was only then, when he was out of the water, that he realized how cold he was. His whole body began to shake uncontrollably—as much from the cold as from the adrenaline that coursed through him.
Hero ran to Ben and licked his face and neck. After a moment, when he could control his limbs again, Ben reached out an arm and wrapped it around his dog’s neck. He buried his face in Hero’s fur. Ben found his voice.
“Thank you, Hero. You saved us.”
22
HERO RAN TO THE TOP OF the hill, ahead of the boys. Ben and Cory were moving slowly, their limbs still warming up. Ben’s entire body hurt from head to toe. He started imagining something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about since they’d left his house the day before: a hot shower and his own bed.
Ben and Cory climbed to the top of the hill and stepped off the path into the clearing. It was alive with activity. The helicopters still hovered on either side. A dozen rescue crew members were swarming around the Boy Scouts. The kids were wrapped in shiny metallic thermal blankets. Most of them were crying—with relief, Ben knew. More men scrambled down the rope ladder of the second chopper.
Hurricane Rescue Page 9
