Karinne went down on one knee, her face level with Jon’s. “That’s why you came looking for me?”
“Yes. I had to tell you. Dad doesn’t know we’re here. I don’t want your kidney. I’ll go on the donor list. Mom should’ve put me on it.”
“I don’t mind helping you, sweetheart…if I can.” Karinne hugged him. “Now I have to call her.”
Karinne lifted the receiver, but this time, the signal was gone. She tried again, and again. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s dead. Great.” She slammed the receiver back in its cradle.
“We can hike back,” Jon said.
“No, it’s too deep.”
“But I can swim….”
“Be quiet and let me think, please.”
Karinne reviewed their options. The phones were out, the life jackets were in the raft and the raft was moored at the dock. The raft was too valuable to abandon. She didn’t know if Max or Cory could reach the dock from Margot’s lower location, but Karinne was not only on higher land, she was closer.
“Up on the roof, kiddo.” Karinne took Jon’s hand and led him out the door.
“In the rain?”
“You won’t melt. Use the railing. I’ll give you a boost.”
Jon wiped his face. “What about you?”
“I have to get the raft. You’re staying.”
“No.”
“Please,” she begged. “It’s safer if I come back for you.”
“You’re not my boss!”
True. She needed to inject authority into her voice. Karinne narrowed her eyes as the water crept upward. Something inside her—anger? determination?—flamed. She felt like a forged red-hot piece of hammered metal—waiting to be thrust into the icy rain. She and Jon were both in danger. Would she shatter into brittle, weak shards—or become strong, tempered steel?
“Get over here,” she ordered. “Now.”
Jon remained in place by the open door.
“I’m your sister, and you’ll listen to me! Climb up if you want to live. Stay here, and you die. You’ve got till the count of three. One.”
Jon stared at her.
“The waters are rising! You’re slowing me down. I can’t take you with me, and I won’t go unless I know you’re safe.” Karinne pulled him toward the railing. “Two.”
“I want Dad,” Jon whispered.
“What about our mother? She’ll drown without the raft—we all will. What’s it going to be, Jon? Time’s up. Three.”
Jon scrambled upward, his sneakers on the porch railing. Karinne easily boosted him up, then followed. On the porch roof, she watched incredulously as the waters quickly covered the railing. She didn’t waste any more time looking.
“Jon, watch me. Do this if the water gets any higher.” She took off her boots and dropped her jeans, her one-piece swimsuit now covered only by a blouse.
“I’m making a life preserver. Watch carefully.”
Karinne tied the end of her jeans legs in a large knot. She slung the jeans above her head and circled them like a revolving door, inflating them as best she could. Next she rolled up the waist of the jeans, trapping the air inside.
“Make sure your jeans are wet first. Hold the waistband closed with your fingers, like this.”
Jon nodded. The water was now covering the porch railing.
“Then tuck a pants leg under each arm. Like this. See? If the water comes higher than the roof, inflate your jeans—you’ll have to do it more than once—and concentrate on breathing. I’ll be back soon. Hold on to the chimney so you don’t drift.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. But if any rescuers come while I’m gone, go with them. They might show up once the floodwaters recede.”
“You’ll come back here first?”
“I hope so. Get your shoes off and stay on this highest part of the roof. Keep your shoes if you can. Don’t wait until the last minute to take off your jeans, okay?”
Jon nodded again.
“Okay, then. Stay calm, and I’ll let you steer the raft when I get back.”
“Promise?”
“Hey, I’m your sister! Would I lie?”
She lifted her arms to inflate her jeans.
“I’ve never driven a boat before,” Jon said, excited.
“Raft,” Karinne corrected. And neither have I.
She gave Jon a cheerful thumbs-up, watched the water flow even with the porch roof and jumped.
Chapter Sixteen
Cabin Bear-3
Margot huddled on her cabin’s porch roof, peering through the binoculars, keeping track of Max’s progress. Margot had lost the fight to go after Max when water had started streaming into the cabin. She’d let Cory and Anita help her onto the roof with a minimum of gear. Margot vaguely remembered experiencing a panic attack until Cory had found the binoculars, spotted Max and shoved them into her hands.
“Keep watching him,” Cory had said. “He’ll find the others, so don’t lose sight.” Margot now held the binoculars so tightly her fingers were white, the bright blue of Max’s floating five-gallon water jug easy to track. Cory and Anita remained below to remove the front cabin door from the hinges.
“Just in case we need a makeshift raft,” Cory murmured. He reached for the multipurpose knife he always carried in his pocket and flipped out the small screwdriver blade.
“You sure the door will float?” Anita asked as Cory wedged the blade into the upper pins of the door’s three hinges.
“It’s pine, and it’s painted,” Cory said. “It’ll float.”
He wiggled, pounded, then pulled the highest pin free and tossed it. Next he lined up the screwdriver blade in the thin gap between the door and the middle hinge pin.
“Will it float with three people and packs, too? Should we lighten them?” Anita asked.
“We might have to leave them here, but we need to get this door free and secured first.” The middle pin popped up and out. Anita held the door handle.
“One more.”
Anita stabilized the door. Cory squatted, water on the porch lapping at his ankles. The pin suddenly released, and despite Anita’s grasp, the door arced toward the window, its pointed corner shattering glass.
Anita jumped at the sound. “It’s broken.”
“They can take it out of my taxes,” Cory said without missing a beat as he joined Anita and pulled the door free of the window frame.
“Watch out, I’m letting it fall,” Cory warned.
The door floated easily in the rising water. He unscrewed the doorknob and totally removed it, then slipped off his belt and buckled the leather in a loop through the doorknob hole. By now the water on the porch was up to his knees. Other rooftop inhabitants across the trail watched the proceedings, but stayed where they were. Cory concentrated on his task.
“Anita, go on the roof. I need your belt. Yours, too, Margot.” Cory locked his fingers together to make a step for Anita’s foot. “Up you go.”
“That door’s not going to hold all the packs,” Margot said from atop the porch roof. The door, while buoyant, was thin, not the thicker width used in snow country. She slid her belt out from her pant loops.
“No, but it’ll hold us. Here, take the end while I climb up.” Cory passed Anita the three belts. He’d rebuckled all three loops through the knob so they’d have individual handles if they had to abandon the roof. Cory sprang upward off the railing and joined the other two on the cabin roof. The door floated on the water below.
“Toss me the belt,” he said to Anita. “I’ll hold it now.”
She did. “Cory…”
“Hmm?”
“I can’t swim.”
Cory froze. Even Margot lowered the binoculars.
“That’s not funny, Anita.”
“I know. My parents don’t swim, either. That’s why I’ve never gone rafting with you before.”
Cory stared. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I’m your husband. I could have taught you.”
&n
bsp; “I should have, but it never came up,” Anita said in a shaky voice.
“Doesn’t matter.” Cory took her cold hand. “I can swim for both of us.”
Raft docks
KARINNE HAD BEEN half swimming, half wading to the dock, until only a final section of deep water separated her from the raft. She’d kept to the higher land and was almost there. Gauging the distance between her present location and the dock, she could see the bright yellow of the raft through the rain. Although the dock itself was barely visible, it wasn’t underwater yet. Already the water was up to her hips, and the closer she got to the Colorado, the more she worried.
Let Jon be okay until I get back… And the rest of them… Max, Cory, Anita, her mother. Karinne slipped, losing her footing. She couldn’t pick herself up; she had to swim. At any other time she’d feel confident swimming the short distance, but this was no gentle lake. The floodwaters tugged on the raft like a wild thing, yanking at the line as the river rushed by. From her position she could see that some canoes had overturned, and a small trolling motor rowboat was swamped. The larger, more powerful ranger boat was gone.
If she angled her swim and tacked diagonally, she’d have a better chance of success. But her jeans were deflating. Karinne reinflated them. She tucked a jean leg under each arm, praying her makeshift life preserver would last. She didn’t waste her energy trying to escape the current. She concentrated on keeping her angle true to the dock.
She floated and kicked closer, but started drifting off course. Her inflated pants were leaking air again. Then the shoreline current ripped away her sagging jeans. Karinne didn’t panic. She straightened her body into a modified crawl, using her legs to kick. She was maybe an Olympic-pool length away. If she focused on her breathing and conserved her strength, she should reach the dock.
As soon as she did, Karinne pushed wet hair off her face and pulled herself into the raft. As she threw herself over the side, the last of her buttons popped. Her shirt gaped open. She didn’t notice. All she could do was lie on the raft floor, panting for breath. The raft bobbed and jerked, its figure-eight line secured to the two-pronged dock cleat. Max usually started the boat and Cory would toss the line free from the dock and hop in. But mounted engines had a safety cut-off, a dead man’s switch. If she started it and released the tiller to undo the line, the engine would automatically stop. If she released the line before the engine started, the raft could get sucked into the Colorado instead of toward the cabins.
What to do?
Engine first, line second, she decided. The wind tore at her clothes. Karinne took off her boots and dropped her jeans, her swimsuit covered by her shirt. She crawled on her hands and knees toward the engine mount in the bouncing raft.
I’ll fire it up. How hard can it be? She’d never piloted before, but this wasn’t exactly an aircraft carrier. She’d always been observant.
I’m a photographer, for heaven’s sake! She’d watched Max and Cory start the engine all week—a simple two-stroke with a pull ignition.
It’s like starting a lawn mower. She mentally reviewed the speed indicator guide on the tiller. The controller grip on the outboard twisted clockwise and counterclockwise for greater or lesser speeds.
She spotted the pull-cord ignition. She kept one arm on the raft rope, and yanked with the other. Her efforts were laughable. She couldn’t even pull out the full length of the cord. The boat moved with her momentum, not the cord.
Gotta brace myself, then pull. She did, placing her bare feet against the inflatable sides, facing the engine, then pulled the rope again, using both hands. The engine putt-putted once and stopped.
Be patient. Come on, start!
This time she smelled gas. She hadn’t yet pulled the cord its full length.
I flooded the engine.
Karinne released the ignition pull, salvaged the spare binoculars and threw the strap over her neck. She put on a life jacket and retrieved the bail bucket, then began bailing water out of the raft, panting from exertion and fear.
How long do I have to wait? If she tried too soon, she’d flood the engine more. And if she hesitated too long, the people waiting for her at the cabins could drown.
Karinne reached for the pull-start line, braced her feet again and yanked with every ounce of strength she had, ripping the cord from the engine casing.
Lightning cracked high above, echoing through the canyon walls, its flash illuminating the pull cord—disconnected from the engine—dangling like a dead rattlesnake in her hand. The dead man’s switch had killed all power.
Karinne stared at the useless ignition cord and the docked line, then screamed in pure rage.
This is truly the vacation from hell!
Cabin Bear-3
THERE, ON THE CABIN roof, near the chimney, the three adults silently waited and watched the water rise. As it rapidly flooded over the porch roof and crept toward the cabin roof’s apex, Cory pulled Anita and Margot higher. All three held on to the belts connecting them to their door raft. Binoculars hanging from her neck, Margot swallowed hard as the water crept closer. There wasn’t much of the roof above water. She’d lost sight of Max long ago.
“Okay, ladies,” Cory announced. “All aboard that’s going aboard.”
Anita’s eyes were wide and round, Margot’s hands shook, but Cory didn’t hesitate. He maneuvered the door so he lay belly-down in the middle, the top and bottom of the door like wings on either side, the doorknob hole above his head. He helped Anita lower herself to his right as Margot took the left.
“Hold on tight, and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times,” Cory joked. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
The water rose higher, taking the door out and away from the submerged cabin, leaving only the roof ridge and the top of the chimney behind. The water churned and roiled with debris as it continued to rise. Steering proved impossible, and cottonwood tops loomed dangerously above the water.
“Everyone, kick harder!” Cory yelled to Margot, one arm around Anita, the other holding his strap.
“I am kicking!” Margot yelled back.
“We’re gonna hit the tree!” Anita said.
Seconds later the door jammed among the higher branches of a tall cottonwood, and wedged in tight. The wood, parallel to the waterline, didn’t budge.
Anita shivered. “At least we aren’t drifting anymore.”
“Now what?” Margot asked.
“Sit up, heads above the water. Grab a branch and don’t let go,” he warned Anita as he gave her a helpful push so she could sit. Her legs dangled directly in the water.
“We’re stuck, aren’t we?” Margot said.
“Thanks for pointing that out, Mrs. C,” Cory replied with more than a little sarcasm as he rubbed his hands up and down Anita’s arms. “You still have the binocs?”
Margot immediately swung the binoculars up from her neck to her eyes.
“Can you see anyone?” Anita asked, her teeth chattering.
“No, we’re too low,” Margot said.
“We’re higher than the cabins,” Cory said. “We can climb even higher if we have to. And the lower branches should protect us from debris.”
The three of them silently studied the chimneys of the cabins, the only structural features still visible above water. Cory actually stood on the door.
“Give me those binoculars,” he said. “Maybe I can see something standing up.”
“I’ll do it.” Margot got up to stand on the door herself, the rain running into the furrows on her forehead and around the rubber eyepieces.
“Stop moving the door, Margot!” Anita pleaded. “Sit d—”
Anita never finished her sentence. The water surged, shaking the tree and the door. Margot lost her grip and splashed into the water, while Cory and Anita remained on the door. Margot didn’t surface.
“Margot!” Anita yelled.
“Where’d she go?” Cory searched frantically amid the branches. He shoved his belt loop into Anita�
�s hand.
“I don’t know! I didn’t see!”
Anita pointed to the far end of the door. “Over there!”
Cory released Anita, wrapped his fingers around the tree branches, then pulled his body down and deliberately submerged himself in the dark waters.
Chapter Seventeen
Cabin Fox-5
Max finally reached Karinne’s cabin. He was agonizingly cold, but his progress had been rapid enough with the current. The water rose ever higher, tearing off the porches and roofs in big chunks that immediately sank, or smaller pieces that floated in the water. He wondered how much time he had before the cabins themselves collapsed under the weight of the water. The five-gallon jug was effective as a float, but it wouldn’t protect him from floating debris.
Before Max’s gaze focused on the child, Jon yelled out his name.
“Jon? You okay?” Max yelled back.
“Yes!”
Carefully avoiding floating branches, Max kicked over to the ridgepole where the boy stood. Even the cabin’s rock-and-cement chimney had begun to crumble, leaving a jagged outline at the waterline. The ridgepole would soon be submerged, as well. Jon hugged the chimney tightly, his jeans floating limply around his waist.
“Where’s Karinne?” Max asked, the air against his soaked body feeling even colder than the water.
“She went for the raft.”
The chill spreading through his body had nothing to do with the temperature. “When?”
“A while ago. When the water was lower. I hope she’s okay. Are you going out there?”
“No. I can’t make the dock in this current.”
The whole foundation of the cabin beneath them shook. Jon grabbed at the chimney, but it fell away in pieces. Max clutched Jon’s arm just as the upper half of the chimney swayed. They both scooted to the opposite side of the roof and Jon’s pants sank with the chimney rocks.
“My jeans!” Jon gasped. He started to move toward the chimney, but Max reeled him back.
“Here,” Max said. He shoved the water jug’s plastic handle toward Jon. “Use this.”
The Reluctant Bride Page 15
