Before anyone can ask a follow-up question, Troy starts wrapping the shirt around his face so that he’s breathing through the wet fabric.
“Any better?” Diana asks.
Troy nods, takes a deep breath.
“A little, I think.”
Everyone, including you, opens their packs and finds an old T-shirt. You soak the fabric in the river and, one by one, you too wrap shirts around your faces. The cold water against your skinfeels better already, and when you pull in a breath, the moisture helps with the smoke. Who knows how long it will last, but for the first few breaths, it makes a noticeable difference.
You’re almost past the shallow spot, so you all move your boats back into the creek. Fran takes a moment to look at the map. Then she looks behind you. Aside from the growing sound of the fire itself, the air is eerily silent. And you realize it’s because there’s no birdsong. All those birds you saw, and so many others, have left. They’re gone. And if you could fly, you would be gone too.
“Six miles to the Loop,” Fran says. “Give or take.”
Another powerful gust of smoky wind blows, and you’re all thinking the same thing: Whether or not you make it there is going to have more to do with the weather than you. You have been trying to work with nature since Silas left you. Trying to learn its rules. How to find food, and navigate, and work in harmony with it. You’ve been trying to meet nature halfway. But now you know the truth: There’s no reasoning with it. It’s either going to eat you or it isn’t.
“What if no one’s there?” asks Diana. “What if we get there and everyone’s evacuated because of the fire?”
“Possible,” Fran says. “But what’s our alternative? Go back the way we came?”
She points back toward the mushroom cloud. It looks like a nuclear-testing site. And the coming fire, which isn’t yet visible, sounds like a million hungry cicadas.
“Forward!” shouts Will. “There’s no other way. When you’re down a break, you can’t give up, guys! You gotta break back!”
“I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” says Troy.
“Tennis, Troy!” says Will. “I’m talking about tennis. But I’malso using metaphors, bro. Now why don’t you take the lead position this time.”
“Me?” he says, his shirt-wrap muffling his speech.
“Yeah,” he says. “You! You helped us with that shirt thing. Now paddle like you want to see your dog again. We’ll follow.”
Troy takes a hesitant step forward. Then he quickens his pace and gets in Will’s canoe in front of Fran. He’s quiet and there’s something like resolve in his eyes. Will takes Troy’s canoe.
And with that, you and Diana are back in your boat. The water looks deeper ahead of you, at least as far as you can see, and that’s a good thing. Less canoe lifting. The creek is surrounded by grass and topped by a sky so orange it looks like you’re paddling through Mars. You close your eyes, and for a second, you’re not sure if they’re going to open again. But they do, somehow. And what you see when they open is Diana looking directly at you.
“Hey, Case,” she says. “Are you with me?”
“I think so,” you say.
“Good. Because there’s just one more thing I have to know.”
“Okay…,” you say.
Your head is spinning, but you grab your paddle and get your hands in position.
“Was it guilt?” asks Diana.
She doesn’t break eye contact.
“Was what guilt?”
“Is that why you never picked up the phone?”
“You mean…”
“When I called. All those times after the funeral? Was it just guilt, or did you really never want to speak to me again?”
In your head, you’re answering her. But you’re aware that in life, nothing is actually coming out of your mouth. Not even a breath.
