to devise a plan,” Ky says. The look in his dark eyes tells me he’s already considering different ideas.
We walk a few miles along the river’s edge. My eyes shift to Ripper every couple of minutes, worried the river might swallow the tiny dog up at any moment. The entire way, the water doesn’t slow nor narrow.
Ky gives a side glance to Asher. Asher clenches his jaw, and we all come to a stop.
“The farther up we go, the more backtracking we’ll have to do,” Ky says reasonably.
Ky loosens his straps on his backpack. Asher does the same, also adjusting the instrument that hangs from his back. The gesture holds my attention, and I’m once again curious of the wooden instrument, but he hasn’t brought it up. It just hangs there tugging at my curiosity, but never revealing anything.
“It’s shallower here. We could cross, if you think we can,” Asher says meeting Ky’s eyes.
My heart pounds in rhythm with the fast raging water. Fear washes into me, threatening to pull me under into a full-on anxiety attack. My eyes dart from Asher to Ky, waiting for a decision. I trust Ky. And Asher. More than I do myself, really. I can swim, poorly, but I can. Could I make it in that strong of a current? If I got swept away would I ever find the shore again? Doubtful.
I’ve gained a little muscle tone from all the running and our new cakeless diet, but my small body would be swept through the water like paper in the wind. I might very well die out here before the camp guards and the veil ever find us.
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Ky says, looking my mother’s slight frame up and down, his thoughts mirroring my own. “Keep your pack loose on your shoulders, should you fall.” He locks eyes with my mother before continuing. “Remove your backpack, ditch it, it’ll only drag you down. Once it’s off, if you get the chance to cling onto it, do it. It’ll keep your head above water for a short time.”
Asher nods in understanding. He shifts his stance closer to me. Like he’s already going to save me. His unintentional lack of confidence in me really helps my nerves. I wipe my palms on my jeans several times, but it doesn’t help.
I pick up Ripper, and Ky leans down to let me deposit the little dog into his backpack. I pet his head reassuringly and zip the bag up, hoping it’ll be enough to keep him safe, but Ky’s instruction to ditch the pack doesn’t hold much hope.
“Take small steps. The rocks will be slick. We’re all going to hold on to each other like a chain against the current,” he says slowly, resting his hand on the small of my mother’s back and guiding her closer to myself and Asher.
Ky takes my hand and places it behind my mother’s back, around her belt right next to his own hand. I try to will the sweat on my palm to dissolve so I can grip the leather tighter. My mother reaches behind my back and grabs onto my belt in the same manner. Asher stands on my other side and, after a short pause, he slides his hand down the small of my back and grabs onto my belt as well.
I understand the process and nervously but tightly hold onto Asher’s belt. The four of us stand, arms linked like we’re getting ready to take a bow on stage instead of walk to our drowning deaths. Asher gives me a small nod, and I try to take deep breaths as Ky leads our chain slowly into the water.
We take slow steps as instructed, walking at a slight angle. The weight of the river pushes against my knees and I feel my mother tighten her hold on me. Asher is impossibly close to me and I feel how tightly strung the muscles in his arm are against my side. All I hear, smell, and taste is the river. It threatens to consume my senses. The water is pulling at my limbs before I’m even halfway across.
I focus on my steps against the slick rocks. I look down at the white water that slams into my hips and stomach. The sight of the water makes my steps uneasy, and my heavy footsteps falter against a jagged rock.
Asher’s grip tightens against my side. His body leans toward me, his chin brushes against my hair.