“We can’t trust the bridge. We’ll go down and cross the river on foot.” Mr. Walker taps the GPS on his arm. “We got a flash flood warning a while back, so I want to get on the other side while we still can.”
“But we’ll get wet if we don’t use the bridge!” Hayley (Madison?) gripes.
A laugh coughs out of me.
“I’m already freezing,” Madison adds. Or is it Hayley? No, it’s definitely Madison. I can tell because she’s the one whose arm is always snaking toward Lucas.
“I want to go home,” Hayley says.
We will probably lather, rinse, and repeat this twelve more times in the next hour. These two have been a torrent of complaints. I can’t blame them. This place is like woodsy purgatory.
Still, Mr. Walker has a point. It’s an easy descent to the stream, and it still looks shallow, but with all this rain, that might change. And then we’re stuck here. We’re at the halfway point of the trip now, so any kind of delay could mean another day out here. I’d cross a leech-infested river of blood if it means getting out of this forest sooner rather than later.
“Should we just camp here tonight?” Ms. Brighton asks.
“Camping by the stream is risky. We could run into a bear. Plus, we might not be able to cross tomorrow.”
Ms. Brighton takes a breath like she wants to argue but goes quiet again.
“It’s a bad idea,” Madison says. “I don’t want to cross.”
“Let’s stay upbeat,” Ms. Brighton says. “We could talk about what purpose this might serve.”
Please let’s not.
Gauging from the grumbles of my fellow campers, I’m not the only one thinking it as we scrabble down the hill, mud caking thicker on my boots with every step.
“Maybe we’re going to be fish in our next life.”
Ms. Brighton laughs, looking pink cheeked and pretty despite the rain. “Never say never.”
Madison sighs. “This whole thing is proof that I shouldn’t have signed up so late.”
“The homeless shelter mission had openings too,” Ms. Brighton says.
“Well, this mission had certain motivating factors.” Madison’s eyes trail to Lucas. Again.
Hayley sighs. “Also, our parents didn’t want us in the bad part of town.”
Lucas snorts. “You do realize poor isn’t contagious.”
“Isn’t it?” Jude asks him. They’ve been at it since the parking lot. It’s annoying as crap.
“Everyone, quiet. We need to move.” Mr. Walker’s voice is tight. Something’s wrong. But he’s halfway across, and the water is still below his knees. It’s moving quickly, but it seems OK. So why is Mr. Walker scanning the horizon like a soldier?
When he’s on the other side, he relaxes. “All right, let’s move. You’ll get to test those waterproof boots here. Emily, you first. Then Jude and right down the line.”
I stumble to the edge of the stream, rocks slipping and scattering under my boots. Jude’s next to me, earbuds in and his chin tipped up like we need a reminder that he’s better than us.
Emily begins to cross with Jude behind her. Then me and Lucas and the rest of the group after. I can’t help but think about what we must look like, this conga line of plastic-wrapped hikers splashing its way through the river.
Jude gasps ahead of me. Before I can ask, cold water gushes over the tops of my boots, then past my ankles. I stop when it reaches my knees. It’s higher. We’re not even halfway across.
Lucas splashes up from behind, rising over me. “Need me to carry you?”
I don’t dignify the question with a response. Behind me, Hayley and Madison shriek. I turn to see a glimpse of all three of them, Hayley on her butt in the water and Madison and Ms. Brighton rushing back for her. The girls are laughing hysterically.
“We’re almost halfway,” Lucas says, ignoring them. “Keep going.”
“Should we help?”
“They’re fine. Move.”
“Stop playing around back there! Get them up, Ms. Brighton,” Mr. Walker barks, then more softly to the ones climbing out, “Good job, Emily. Jude! Earbuds out!”
Mr. Walker looks downstream, and his expression hardens. “Sera, speed up now.”
I look up and wish I hadn’t. I don’t like the urgency in his tone any more than I like the rushing sound of water I hear off to the east.
“Is that rain?” I ask because I want it to be rain. Or hail. I want it to be anything other than what I already know it is.
Mr. Walker’s eyes flick upstream, his face going pale. “It’s flooding,” he admits.
My hope snaps like a rubber band. Fear billows out in its place, making me woozy.
“Sera, move!” Lucas says, prodding my backpack.
“I got it!” I snap, plowing ahead.
Hayley screams again behind us. They’re all three shouting. Something about a shoe. Someone’s stuck. Mr. Walker is yelling at Emily and Jude to back up, back up! And then the rain changes, the shower shifting into a driving roar with drops so hard they feel like sand spraying down. Everything is garbled. Muffled. Fear pushes the hair up on the nape of my neck.
We’re not going to get across.
“Go, Sera!”