“Raft? No.”
But Auralia had survived her own list of near misses and brushes with death throughout her childhood and career, and she might have an idea that had saved the day. “Can you tell me that thought?”
“You remember those teens that were sailing in the Gulf when—” she pressed her lips together. “You wouldn’t know this story. You were deployed. There were these two boys who were sailing when a squall blew in and capsized their boat. It sank, and the kids stayed alive for thirty hours by gripping each other’s elbows over the top of a cooler. Bonus points that the cooler had some sandwiches left and ice cubes, so every once in a while, they’d open it up and pop a cube in their mouths. They weresunburned and exhausted but otherwise in good shape. That and the cooler was lime yellow so the helicopter could spot them.”
Creed picked up the top and looked the bin over.
“It’s waterproof. And I tested that on the way over. One of them held my weight and the weight of my equipment when I rode it to shore. However, if we were trying to float, that tape could be wrapped around the lip,” she slid her hand out to show what she meant.
Creed looked out at the river. Three meters to the car. Three meters on the other side of the vehicle. The water was thick with mud and debris, capped with white foam. “The water pressure is pretty intense, and if it presses a side in, it could open a gap, fill with water, and lose its buoyancy.”
“Okay. Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that.” She looked at a stick Creed had stuck in the sand at the shoreline before he went out to get Sheelah. The water had moved about six inches closer to them. “How long do you think we’ll have a shore to stand on?”
Creed shook his head. His bigger worry right now was that it would soon be dark.
“I saw you had your trash bag full of air that you were using for a flotation. So maybe we just do that?”
“Brilliant, don’t you think?” Auralia asked.
“I think everything about you is brilliant. Sometimes I don’t love it—like when you’re standing up to report while there’s a live-shooter situation.”
“Long shot that he’d be gunning for me.”
“Haha, funny girl.” His system tightened and primed with the image of Auralia in danger.
“Speaking of reporting,” Auralia said. “I haven’t heard from Doli.”
“She’s up there getting footage of this mess.”
“How did we get here? I mean, I know how we got here. But the number of people in the accident,” Auralia shook her head. “It’s almost unprecedented, I’d imagine.”
“It started with the shot taking out the speaker. Crowd control was us shouting at people who couldn’t hear because their systems were so adrenaline-spiked. We had no way to get their attention.”
“You all didn’t have a bullhorn?” Auralia asked.
“No bullhorns allowed at the event. It wasn’t on our equipment list.”
“Surely that rule was for the average Joe looking for a pork sandwich and a fried pickle. Which, by the way, Doli was very sad to miss out on.”
“The rules were mandated for everyone. And Doli missed out. The fried pickle was delicious. But in the end, our crowd control was about as effective as our road control.”
“How is this?” Auralia asked.
“Jack was in head-to-foot hazard limon gear, reflective tape, the whole bit, waving flares around trying to get them to stop and turn around. And they sped up and went over the hill.”
“Yeah, well, if Sasquatch were out there trying to get me to slow down in the middle of nowhere, Virginia, and I’m going to speed up too.”
“No,” Creed kissed the top of her head. “You’re not.”
“No, I’m not. Look at Rourou. What’s she doing?”
Rou’s nose was up in the air, sniffing hard.
“Do you smell that?”
“Striker,” came through Creed’s comms. “We have a fire on one of the cars. They put a fire extinguisher on it, but the sparks jumped into your woods.”
That’s what Mandy had said earlier. Above them, the pine needle beds were thick and dry. Though the rain sifted throughthe evergreen branches, the substrate was still a mix of patches that were slippery and wet, and others that were dry as kindling.
