the raging mass of emotions. A lifetime’s worth, it seemed. Josie nodded through her tears. Up and down, up and down until she heard Gretchen say, “Okay, okay. You just hold onto her while I tie our pants together, okay? That’s the only way they’ll fit around the trunk and Vera.”
More nodding. More sobbing. The world was a tear-soaked kaleidoscope of murky brown and death. A few minutes later, she heard Gretchen’s voice again. “Boss, you’re a stronger climber than me. I need you to go first. You find a spot and help pull me up.”
Josie nodded.
“Boss? Josie? I need you to go. Climb.”
Gretchen’s hand wrapped around her wrist and placed her palm against the trunk of the tree. “Josie,” she shouted. “Climb! I need you to climb.” Gretchen shook her again and Josie’s arms reached upward, finding two small branches to help pull herself upward. Gretchen said, “Climb, Jo, climb!”
Her body went onto automatic pilot. She was ten years old again, in the woods behind her trailer, hiding from her abusive mother. Lila never looked in the trees. Beneath her, Ray whisper-shouted, “Climb, Jo! Climb!”
She scrambled up into the tree, legs wrapping around the trunk and propelling her upward until she found a branch strong enough to hold both hers and Gretchen’s weight for some time. Blinking the tears and rain out of her eyes, she looked down to see Gretchen struggling to inch up toward Josie. When she got close enough, Josie extended a hand and Gretchen took it, muscling her way up to where Josie perched. Breathless, they clung to one another and the tree. Below, Vera’s body wrapped around the tree. Debris gathered at her back, hitting against her and then dislodging to be carried downriver. Josie watched as a tangled mass of mayoral candidate signs floated past.
Twenty-Seven
In a twist of irony that Josie cared not to examine too closely, Sawyer Hayes was in one of the rescue boats that finally located them. The other boat, piloted and tended by city swiftwater rescue crew members Josie didn’t know by name, collected Vera and carried her off—to the morgue, Josie assumed. Sawyer helped Gretchen and then Josie down into the other boat. He averted his eyes from their naked legs but once they were fitted with life vests and tethered to the inside of the vessel, he flipped open a pouch in his vest and took out a small silver package with a blue wrapper. Josie recognized it immediately as an emergency Mylar blanket. It seemed like hours ago that her mind had disconnected from her body. Around the time her teeth started chattering. In reality, she had no idea how long they’d been in the tree. Sawyer took the blanket out and unfolded it, using two hands to shake it loose. As the boat operator steered them away from the trees and back to safety, Sawyer covered them with it, tucking its edges beneath them with care.
“Thank you,” Gretchen said.
Sawyer gave them a thumbs-up. Josie tried to smile. She wasn’t sure if her face worked or not, but he smiled back at her. She closed her eyes and let her head fall onto Gretchen’s shoulder.
The next hour was a blur. The rest of the city park had been swallowed up by the additional flooding, so a new boat ramp had been built closer to the command post. They were herded from the boat launch directly into the back of an ambulance where they were seated along the soft vinyl bench inside and wrapped in more blankets. At the hospital, they were put in the same curtained area, each assigned to a gurney. A nurse handed Josie a hospital gown and then dug one out of the linen cart for Gretchen. “You gals put these on. I’ll be right back.”
“I’m fine,” Josie said. “I just need pants… and a ride home.”
The nurse laughed. Gretchen was already dropping her wet jacket and shirt onto the nearby tray table and slipping into the gown. “Honey,” the nurse said to Josie, “your lips are blue, you’re soaked to the bone, and you’ve got a nasty laceration on your leg there.”
Josie looked down at her legs, for the first time noticing the large gash on the outside of her right thigh. “Shit,” she muttered.
The nurse patted the gurney. “How about some warm blankets? How’s that sound?”
Josie couldn’t argue with that.
Gretchen said, “Hell, yes.”
Two hours later, Josie dozed beneath three heated blankets. There were eight stitches in her thigh, and her hair