Chapter 34 Raine
Raine
The storm hadn’t let up, but for the first time since the bridge gave way, we weren’t fighting to breathe. We clung to the half-submerged tree like castaways, our bodies shuddering with exhaustion.
Boone coughed again, rough and wet, spitting river water into the flood. His eyes cracked open, unfocused. “Hell of a… swim,” he rasped.
Relief flooded me so hard my knees nearly gave. “You scared the hell out of me,” I snapped, my voice breaking anyway.
“Join the club.” His grin was weak but real before his head slumped back against the bark. I saw the large knot on his head. he must have been knocked out. We made it back on shore.
The mother clung to her son a few feet away, whispering over and over, rocking him gently despite her own shivering frame. The boy stared at me, eyes wide, like he couldn’t believe we were still alive. Truth was, neither could I.
But we couldn’t stay here. The river was still rising, dragging debris past us in deadly waves. Any shift in the current could rip us loose.
“We need higher ground,” I said, forcing strength into my voice.
Boone groaned, pushing up on his elbows. “I can move. Just don’t ask me to sprint a damn marathon.”
I hooked his arm over my shoulder, bracing us both against the tree. My ribs screamed with every breath, but I shoved it down. Pain was a luxury. Survival wasn’t.
“Follow me,” I told the mother. She nodded, clutching her boy tighter.
One step at a time, we edged along the slick trunk, fighting balance, fighting exhaustion, until I felt the blessed resistance of solid earth beneath my boots. Mud sucked at us as we stumbled onto a sloping bank half-hidden by trees.
We collapsed there, gasping, shaking, alive.
For a moment, I let myself sag against the mud, chest heaving, rain running down my face in cold rivulets.
But the relief didn’t last.
Because somewhere behind us, gunfire still thundered against the storm. Adam’s ridge. Adam’s fight.
And if he fell tonight, none of this survival would matter. In my head, I knew this was crazy. Where was help? We weren’t over seas.