“Now!”Parker commands, yanking me from the panic that’s pulling me under as fast as the undertow. “Dive!”
Something brushes past me underwater like an enormous fish, followed by an urgent tug on my leg. I yank my frozen hand free of the raft’s D-rings and rope, draw in a breath, and plunge under the surface behind Allie, kicking blindly toward the left bank while trying desperately to keep my body hidden beneath the surface.
Once my head is submerged, I open my eyes wide in the dark green, the water thick as oil. I can’t see Allie—can’t see anything except murky shadows.
I know enough to swim away from the current, but everything else is a blur, and my pace is so slow it feels like I’m barely moving at all. Am I angling enough to reach shore? Do I really have the strength left to get there?
The panic swells again, but before it blooms I make out a shape moving in front of me, beckoning. Defined, and impossibly easy to see, for how dark the water is.
It’s Parker, as real as he’s ever been, urging me to follow.
And I do, with everything I have left.
My lungs already beg for air as I swim against the current, turning more sharply toward the shore. I try to keep up with Parker’s moving target, but no matter how hard I try, the current drags me back toward the hungry, gaping mouth of Splinter Ridge.
The gravity of the river suddenly shifts, yanking me away from my path and flipping me like a washing machine, and for a terrifying second I think I’ve gotten trapped in another hole.
Then my shoulder slams into something solid—another boulder.
“Push off it,”Parker cries, and I propel myself sideways and up, breaking the surface just long enough to gasp in a breath before diving back under.
Did Leo see me? Did he hear my splashing?
Where is Allie?
I can’t worry about any of that right now. I have to keep swimming.
I reach out blindly for Parker in the dark water, fingers grasping for his shirt, an arm, anything, even though I know he isn’t really there. My hand closes empty, again and again. But it keeps me reaching, keeps me moving.
The roar of the falls in my ears is deafening, even beneath the water, louder than it’s ever been.
When I look to my right, I can see the churn of whitecaps just feet away.
Oh god.The drop-off.
I flail harder. My feet definitely break the surface this time, and I can only hope the force of the splash will be lost in the foamy water.
I’m at the threshold of Splinter Ridge, the unrunnable rapid. Past the point of no return.
I kick frantically, climbing more than swimming, my eyes locked on Parker’s retreating feet as I push toward the left bank that must be somewhere ahead in the darkness. The water surges and breaks around me, carrying my body with it at each swell, until I can’t tell if I’m moving or swirling in place.
Just when I’m sure I can’t swim anymore, my palm slaps solid rock.
It’s the canyon wall, slick with algae but solid. I find a divot to grab hold of, even as the current tries to rip me away.
I claw for a second handhold. Then another. The rock is slippery, offering barely any purchase, but I hold on with everything I have.
My head breaks the surface and I suck in air, blinking blindly.
I’m so close to the edge of Splinter Ridge, I can feel it vibrating through the stone I cling to with my numb fingers. The mist drifts up like cold breath, coating my face. I’m only maybe two yards from the edge. Near enough to see the first yawning, abysmal drop where the water simply disappears into distant chaos.
From this vantage, I find myself thinking that Macy’s warnings about Splinter Ridge were almost modest. The jagged bottom is so far down, there’s absolutely zero chance of anybody surviving the drop. And it isn’t a straight drop—more like a series of landings, where serrated black boulders poke out of the snarling falls like teeth. If the first level didn’t catch you in its jaws, it would send you end over end, down the next drop, and the next, on top of more saw-toothed boulders and beneath the unimaginable force of slamming whitewater.
My fingers ache where they cling to the rough surface, the thud in my chest as violent as the falls.
I’m not going over that precipice, though. I’ve made it. I’m safe for now, pressed against the canyon wall.
There’s movement to my right—someone pulling themselves toward me. A drenched, dark shape in even darker water.
