They had been at it for less than twenty minutes when a boom came from uphill. O’Dell felt the vibration under her feet. It sounded like an explosion. She looked for smoke, trying to see beyond the trees. Creed was hurrying her way, yelling something she couldn’t hear. He’d dropped Bolo’s leash and was gesturing for the dog to run.
She turned to find Logan and saw him farther up in the riverbed. His back was to her, phone still pressed to the side of his face.
“Run!” She heard Creed now. She thought he was yelling at Bolo but now he meant her, too. His face twisted in panic. He was slipping on the silt, backtracking. Bolo had fallen and Creed was pulling the big dog up. They were still in the middle of the riverbed.
O’Dell ran toward them even as Creed waved her in the other direction. But she dug her feet into a patch of grass on the ledge, trying to decide the best way to help them. If Creed could carry Bolo to the ledge, she could pull them up over the wet, slick riverbank.
A second boom. Closer.
This time she realized what had happened. It wasn’t an explosion. The barriers uphill had given way. A roar followed, and she could already see the wall of water coming down on them.
51.
At first Creed thought it was another slide. He dropped Bolo’s leash and ordered the dog to run. But silt made it impossible. The dog’s legs twisted over each other and he stumbled. Creed stopped, wishing he could scoop the dog up under his arm.
“Settle, boy,” he told him as he lifted all eighty-five pounds into his arms.
Maggie was waiting for them at the ledge even though he had yelled for her to run. He still had five feet to go when the water hit. It knocked Bolo out of his arms and upended Creed. He tried to keep his feet together. Tried to stay on his back as the gushing water swept him up. But not far. The wave slammed him into one of the concrete boulders and Creed grabbed on.
“Bolo!” he yelled, but the thunderous roar filled his ears.
Creed climbed on top of the boulder, finding an edge and grabbing tight. It was like watching rapids rumble by. He searched for Bolo. Panic clawed at him when he saw no sign of the dog. Then he looked for Maggie and couldn’t see her.
A knot of branches punched into him, almost toppling him over the concrete. He kicked and sent it rolling on. Waves splashed over him and more debris threatened to shove him off. When the roar settled down he pulled himself higher, stopping when the pain stabbed in his chest.
“Creed!”
Upstream he finally saw Maggie. She was on her feet and keeping to the ledge. She had something over her shoulder. He wiped the water off his face to see better and his hand came back streaked with blood. He searched over the riverbank downstream.
Still no sign of Bolo and nausea kicked in his gut.
He should have held on. He imagined the dog’s crumpled body battered against one of the concrete rocks and he felt his hands slip. He wanted to let go and join him.
“Creed!”
Maggie was parallel to him now, ten feet away on the bank. So close and yet too far to stretch out and touch him.
She had rope coiled around her shoulder and she was unwinding it. In seconds she had one end tied around a tree trunk.
Creed laid his cheek against the cold rock. His arms ached. The water was slowing but was still too fast for him to stand and hold his balance. He closed his eyes, suddenly sick to his stomach. He’d never lost a dog. Hannah said it would eventually happen and he’d never be ready for it and she was right. His feet had slid into the cold water, weighing him down, allowing the current to pull at him. And still he hugged the concrete and kept his eyes closed.
“Creed! I need you to catch this.”
He wanted her to go away. Leave him. At least for a while.
“I’ll get to you next, Bolo. Just hang on.”
Creed’s eyes flew open. What did she just say? He stretched up on exhausted elbows. Maggie was looking at him, holding the knotted end of the rope, ready to toss it to him. When she saw the question on his face she pointed upstream. He had only looked downstream.
There in the middle of the rushing water was Bolo, standing with all four big paws clinging to the flat top of another concrete boulder.
52.
Once he had the rope, Creed tried to make his way through the water. He attempted to stand and twice the water knocked him off his feet. If he hadn’t clung to the rope he would have been riding downstream, his body pummeled against the debris like an arcade pinball.
It seemed to take forever to get to the edge of the water. He could hear Maggie encouraging him in between telling Bolo what a good boy he was and to stay put for just a little bit longer.
Every time Creed heard her say something to the big dog he wanted to smile.
Finally he felt Maggie grabbing the collar of his jacket. She pulled as his feet found traction in the slimy mud of the bank. He rolled onto his side, trying to catch his breath. Trying to tamp down the pain in his chest.