“Same.” I skimmed a hand across her stomach.
Before we could flirt any harder, a shadow fell over us. We looked up. In the past thirty seconds, the sky had gone from clear to the color of a bruise. A crack of thunder ripped through the canyon, and every hair on my arms stood up.
Her nose scrunched. “I checked the weather. There was no precipitation in sight. And coming into the park, the probability sign said there was a low chance of rain today.”
“Looks like the weatherman was wrong. And the park service.”
“We’ll be okay, right?”
No one else seemed worried, but we were in a slot canyon with cliffs on either side. We were sitting ducks if a storm broke loose.
Mother Nature must’ve seen myifand raised me a gully washer. We hadn’t completed a full exhale before the sky cracked open and the rain came sideways. The joy from moments earlier shattered as women and children shrieked and splashed for shore.
“We need to go!” I yelled over the noise. “Now.”
Juliette’s hand found mine, and we hurried for dry land. The other families seemed to think having their feet out of the water was good enough. But I knew better.
A teenage couple standing under a rock overhang had their phones out, filming the chaos.
As we jogged past, the girl stared with full googly eyes and said, “You’re Juliette Serrant.”
Juliette didn’t slow down. “No videos of us together. You got me?” The girl had some fire. I liked it.
They nodded, lowering their phones.
“You need to get out of here, fast,” I said. “It’s going to flood, and you’re not high enough. Move.”
The girl’s eyes widened as small waterfalls poured over the tops of the cliff walls and into the Virgin River.
The crowd took off up the trail. Juliette and I hung back, her hand slipping into mine as we jogged after them, water dripping down our legs. Fifty yards in, the sky cracked again—and just like that, the rain turned to hail, pelting our backs.
I hooked an arm around Juliette’s shoulders, trying to shield her. “Are you good at distance?”
“I’m not a runner.” But she could’ve fooled me. Her long legs matched mine, stride for stride. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll keep up. I’m not dying today.” She squeezed my fingers, and there was a protective heat in hereyes. “And you’re not dying today. Your wife is waiting out there for you somewhere.” If there hadn’t been a want in her eyes when she said it, it might’ve gutted me.
I held her gaze. “And so is your husband.”
She looked away, and something in her expression made me wish I hadn’t said it.
As we reached the top of the hill, we looked down at the river, swelling higher every second. The waterfalls were bigger now, and there were twice as many as a moment ago. There was only one way out, so we headed down the other side—back toward the river. When we reached the next stretch of low ground, people were lingering along the banks.
Were they crazy?
I almost yelled for them to go, but then Juliette gasped. The river had risen at least three feet, and a girl, maybe seven or eight, bobbed helplessly in the water, being swept further downstream. She could swim, at least—but she wasn’t strong enough to get to the side. “Help!” she screamed. “Mom, help!”
Her mom was trying to get to her, but a little boy had locked himself around her legs, refusing to be left behind. If Mom was going in the water, the little boy was determined to go too. This poor mother was being forced to choose between her children in real time, and her panic was unbearable to witness.
“Stay, Mason!” she shouted, voice authoritative and shattering all at once.
The little boy only sobbed harder and tightened his grip.
“Moooom!” The river swallowed the word—just before swallowing the girl.
Juliette tore her hand from mine and bolted for the water, every inch of her screaming that this was happening.
I sprinted after her.
When the girl popped back up, the crowd exhaled as one.
