Page 9 of Hemlock Firestorm (Black Timber Peak Hotshots #3)

SEVEN

COLE

The roar of the approaching fire mixes with the thunderous rush of the river, creating a cacophony of danger that sets my teeth on edge.

I scan the turbulent water, my heart pounding against my ribs.

The current's strong, churning and frothing as it carves its way through the burning forest. It's our only chance, but it's a hell of a risk.

I glance at Jo, noting the tension in her jaw, the slight tremor in her hands. She's scared, and who could blame her? We're about to throw ourselves into a raging river filled with debris to escape a massive wildfire. It's not exactly a choice between good and bad, more like bad and worse.

"You ready for this?" I ask, having to raise my voice over the noise .

Jo's amber eyes meet mine, flickering with a mix of fear and determination. "As I'll ever be," she shouts back, her voice steeled with resolve despite the tremor I detect underneath.

I nod, pushing down my own fear. Swimming was never my strong suit, but I could get by just fine. Summers when I was young were often spent white water rafting with friends but there we’d had a guide and life jackets.

"We'll go together," I tell her, reaching for her hand. "On three."

Her fingers intertwine with mine, gripping tight. For a moment, everything else fades away – the roar of the fire, the rush of the river. It's just us, standing on the precipice of survival or disaster.

"Actual three right? Not putting my arm back in the socket three?"

I choke on a laugh and squeeze her hand.

"One," I start, feeling Jo's pulse racing where our wrists press together.

"Two," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper.

Our eyes lock. In that charged moment, I see a reflection of my own fears, my own determination. We're in this together, come hell or high water. Literally .

"Three!"

We leap.

The shock of the cold water hits like a punch to the gut, driving the air from my lungs. For a terrifying second, I'm disoriented, tumbling in the current. Our hands separate as we fight to the surface. I gasp as my head breaks through.

"Jo!" I yell, searching frantically for her auburn hair in the chaos of white water as I'm dragged further downstream.

A splash to my left, and she surfaces, coughing and sputtering. Relief floods through me, but there's no time to dwell on it. The current's already sweeping us downstream at an alarming rate.

"Keep your feet up!" I shout, my voice hoarse from smoke and exertion. "Watch for rocks!" I have no idea how deep it is and where it gets shallow but I can see some rocks jutting above the water just waiting to scrape us. Branches and twigs pile up, getting caught on some of the rocks ahead of us.

Jo nods, her eyes wide but focused. She's handling this better than I expected, adapting quickly to the treacherous conditions. It's impressive, but I shouldn't be surprised. She's proven her mettle time and time again .

We're swept around a bend, the shoreline a blur of flame-touched trees. The heat of the fire is still palpable, even here in the water. Embers rain down around us, hissing as they hit the river's surface.

A large branch comes hurtling towards us in the water, carried by the current. "Left!" I yell, and we both swim furiously to avoid it. The branch misses us by inches, a reminder of how quickly things can go wrong.

Jo's hand finds mine in the chaos, gripping tight. We cling to each other, using our free arms to navigate the churning water. Her touch is an anchor, keeping me grounded as we face this hellish obstacle course together.

"Cole!" Jo's voice cuts through the roar of water and fire. "Waterfall ahead!"

I crane my neck, seeing the drop she's spotted. It's not huge, maybe fifteen to twenty feet judging by the bank ahead downstream. But in these conditions, the drop might as well be Niagara Falls. I have no idea if we are about to land in a pile of twigs and branches at the bottom.

"We'll have to ride it out," I call back. "Stay close!"

The current seemingly accelerates as we approach the falls. Jo's fingers dig into my hand, her terror palpable. Our eyes lock, a fleeting moment of connection before we're hurled into the abyss.

Time stops. We're flying, suspended between life and death. Then, reality crashes back with brutal force. We slam into the churning maelstrom below, the impact hurts. Jo's hand is ripped from mine, and I'm alone in the chaos.

Panic explodes in my chest as I'm violently tossed in nature's washing machine. Up is down, left is right. There's no sense of direction in this watery hell. My lungs scream, desperate for air that isn't there. I thrash wildly, each movement a battle against the current's iron grip.

The world spins, a dizzying kaleidoscope of bubbles and murky darkness.

My vision narrows, black spots dancing at the edges.

Just as I think I'm done for, I slam into something solid.

Pain lances through me, precious oxygen leaves my lungs in a few bubbles, as I realize I'm pinned, my pack snagged on a gnarled branch. I frantically claw at the straps. It’s twisted too tight for me to get the pack off my shoulders.

My chest is on fire, every cell in my body shrieking for oxygen. As consciousness starts to slip away, a single thought burns through the haze :

Jo. She has to make it. This can't be for nothing. If I die here, she has to live.

Just as I feel my resolve crumbling, ready to inhale water and embrace the end, something yanks me hard. There's a muffled crack, and suddenly I'm moving. My head breaks the surface, and I gasp, gulping down air like a drowning man – which, I suppose, I am.

Jo's there, her soot-streaked face pale but determined. Her amber eyes lock onto mine, a mix of relief and lingering fear evident in their depths. "Gotcha," she pants, her hand fisted in my pack strap, knuckles white.

I cough violently, expelling river water from my lungs. The taste of ash and grit lingers on my tongue as I struggle to form words. "My pack," I manage between ragged gasps, my throat raw from the ordeal. "It was caught." I say as if trying to work it all out aloud.

"On a submerged branch," Jo nods, her voice hoarse but steady. She's already moving, tugging me toward a partially submerged log floating nearby. The current fights us, but Jo's determination is unyielding.

We reach the log, and I wrap an arm around it, steadying us both against the relentless push of the river. The rough bark digs into my skin, a welcome anchor to reality. "Guess we're even now, huh?"

Jo's eyes sparkle with a mix of relief and mischief as she catches her breath. "Even? Please," she scoffs playfully, her voice still raspy from the smoke and exertion. "I just added 'professional lifeguard' to my resume. You're falling behind, Hotshot."

I can't help but chuckle, which quickly turns into another coughing fit. Jo pats my back, a hint of concern creeping back into her expression.

"Easy there, fish-man," she quips. "I didn't drag you out just so you could drown on dry land. Well, semi-dry log, anyway."

I manage a weak grin. "Fish-man? That's the best you've got?"

Jo rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you prefer 'Aquaman'? Though I gotta say, your underwater skills need some work."

Jo grins and my heart stutters at the sight of her bright, gorgeous smile. Her amber eyes scanning my face intently. I can see the wheels turning behind that gaze, assessing our situation, planning our next move despite her sudden playfulness.

I laugh weakly, the sound bordering on hysterical relief. We're alive. Battered, half-drowned, scratched to hell, and still in danger, but alive .

As if to emphasize my point, a burning tree crashes into the river nearby, sending up a spray of water and steam. The fire's still on our heels, pushing us further downstream.

"We need to keep moving," I say, reluctantly letting go of Jo's waist. "Ready?"

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "Ready."

We push off from the log, allowing the current to carry us once more. The river's a bit calmer here, but that's relative. We're still being tossed about like rag dolls, dodging debris and fighting to keep our heads above water.

A sharp bend in the river looms ahead, its presence announced by a roar that drowns out even the crackling inferno at our backs.

The current accelerates, dragging us towards the outer bank with terrifying speed.

My heart leaps into my throat as I spot the danger, a massive tangle of fallen trees forming a lethal strainer.

Water rushes through the gnarled branches with brutal force, creating a deadly suction that could pin us underwater, turning this natural filter into our watery grave.

"Swim!" The word tears from my throat, raw and desperate.

I throw myself into action, every muscle screaming as I fight against the current's iron grip.

Jo's right there with me, her determination matching my own as we stroke furiously towards the opposite shore.

But the river seems to sense our desperation, its pull intensifying, dragging us inexorably closer to the strainer.

Panic claws at my chest as the distance shrinks. The roar of water through wood fills my ears, drowning out everything else.

We're not going to make it.

The thought slams into me with the force of a physical blow, but I refuse to give up. Not now, not when we've come so far.

Just as hope begins to fade, my foot scrapes against the solid riverbed.

A surge of adrenaline floods my system, giving me one last burst of desperate strength.

I lunge forward, my hand finding Jo's arm.

With a primal yell that's equal parts fear and determination, I haul us both towards shallower water, every movement a battle against the current's relentless pull.

We stumble onto the rocky shore, our legs giving out beneath us.

We collapse onto our hands and knees, the rough stones digging into our palms, but the pain is a welcome reminder that we're alive.

For endless moments, all we can do is gasp and heave, our bodies wracked with violent tremors.

Exhaustion and adrenaline war within us, leaving us shaken.

When I can finally speak, I turn to Jo. "You did good back there," I tell her, my voice rough.

She looks up, pushing her sodden braid away from her face. A grin breaks through her exhaustion. "Not so bad yourself."

I can't help but chuckle, the sound bordering on hysterical relief.