As Joshuaand David roared toward the campsite in the skiff, Trent and Alex’s rowboat moved swiftly down the river in the opposite direction. Alex sat in the bow, shining Trent’s flashlight along the shoreline, searching for the spot where Colin lay injured.
“It’s further down, Trent,” Alex called out to him. “I remember passing this spot.” He called out Colin’s name again and again, hoping to hear his voice shout back, but so far, he heard no response.
“Keep calling out, Alex,” Trent told him, pulling on the oars with all his strength. “Let him hear us. He’s probably still conscious.”
“Colin!” Alex yelled. “We’re here! Shine the light at us!”
After only ten minutes or so, Alex spotted a faint gleam along the shoreline. “I see him!” he cried out. “Trent, he’s there! Pull over!”
Trent’s muscles tensed, his eyes locking on the gleam of light along the shoreline. “Hold on!” he shouted, his voice rough and urgent. He stopped rowing with his right oar, his left arm straining as he dug the left oar deep into the water, pushing hard. The rowboat spun sharply to the right, the hull slicing through the water. “Nearly there!” he growled, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Colin!” Alex screamed, his hands trembling as the boat surged toward the shore. “We’re coming!”
The boat groaned as it turned, the wood creaking under the pressure. Water sprayed up, cold and sharp, stinging Alex’s face. The flashlight beam danced over the shoreline, illuminatingtwisted branches and gnarled roots. And just beyond, Colin’s light, flickering and weak.
Alex’s chest tightened, his heart slamming against his ribs. “We’re almost there,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Hold on, Colin … please.”
Trent’s jaw clenched, his muscles straining as he pushed on the left oar with all his strength. “I see him!” he cried out between panted breaths. “I see him!” He gave one last, mighty push, and the rowboat’s bow crashed against the shoreline, only yards from where Colin lay motionless.
Trent leaped from the boat, the six-pack of water and his first aid kit in his hands. He raced to Colin’s side. “Jesus, buddy,” he stammered as he knelt beside him. “Tell me you’re still conscious.”
Colin’s eyes slid open. “I am. But I wish I wasn’t.” He gritted his teeth and gave a soft moan.
“Alex!” Trent called. “Bring his jacket and those sleeping bags.” He spun the top from one of the water bottles and held it to Colin’s lips. “Take a drink, buddy.” After Colin had drunk his fill, Trent poured the remainder of the water over a towel and wiped the dirt from Colin’s face. “Any trouble breathing?”
“Some,” Colin whispered. “Not much.”
“Dizziness?” Trent asked. “Nausea?”
“A bit of dizziness, but not for a while.”
Trent massaged Colin’s neck with skilled fingers. “Can you move at all?”
Colin nodded. “Yeah. I can move.” He glanced up to see Alex hovering over him, clutching Colin’s jacket and a sleeping bag. “Hi, kid. Thanks for bringing the cavalry.”
Trent took the jacket and laid it over Colin. “I’m not going to try to put his on you just yet. I don’t want to risk it.” He took the sleeping bag from Alex and covered Colin with it, then turned tothe boy. “Alex, I need a stick, in fact I needtwo. Thick, sturdy ones. Can you look around? Take my flashlight.”
Alex bolted toward the woods.’
“Don’t go far!” Trent called after him. “Stay close enough to see us!” He bent over Colin’s ankle. “Any numbness? Tingling?”
“Nope.”
Trent grimaced. “Dammit! I don’t want to risk taking your sneaker off.” He turned to Colin. “Can you wiggle your toes?”
Colin drew in a breath, then groaned. “Yeah, but not much.”
“Long as you can move them, I’m happy.”
Alex returned, carrying a long, thick branch. “I know this is too long, but …”
“No, it’ll work, Alex,” Trent told him. “Now listen to me…” Go back to the boat and grab my big flashlight. It’s in the back. Then point it down the river so Josh can see it. Prop it there good and solid, then grab the towels and rope that’s in the bottom of the boat and bring them to me. OK?”
“You got it, Trent,” the boy said, then bolted toward the rowboat.
Trent opened the first aid kit and pulled out a syringe. “Here comes the good part,” he told Colin, filling the syringe from a vial.
“What is it?” Colin muttered. Then he grabbed Trent’s arm. “Trent, I don’t want any narcotics.”
