Page 44 of The Unlikely Pair

Fear clamps my stomach as the current drags us relentlessly towards the waterfall’s edge. I thrash furiously, but my waterlogged clothes are like anchors, pulling me down. When I look behind me, I see Toby barely keeping his head above water.

I kick furiously, my lungs burning as I fight against the current.

And suddenly, I’m swept in a different direction, and the rock face is right there in front of me. My fingertips desperately clutch at the rock face until I find a hold to cling to. The current buffets me, trying to sweep me further downstream, but I manage to hold on.

This is not good.

I look around and see Toby upstream of me, frantically trying to swim towards me, away from where the current is relentlessly pulling him towards the waterfall’s edge. He’s still clutching thesurvival kit, which is providing buoyancy but also making it harder for him to swim.

Toby’s gaze meets mine, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. Holding on to the rock face with one hand, I stretch out my hand, straining to reach him. Our fingertips brush, but my reach isn’t long enough, and I can’t get a solid grip. And then he’s gone, the river sweeping him towards the waterfall.

Panic closes like a vice around my chest.

I lunge forward, letting go of my grip on the rock edge, plunging back into the current.

Adrenaline surges through my veins, fueling my exhausted muscles. I plow through the churning water, my arms slicing through the water, my mind focused on one thing only—reaching Toby.

The current drags me, trying to pull me under, but I fight back with every ounce of strength I have left.

I refuse to lose Toby to this river.

I glimpse the terror in Toby’s eyes as he struggles to swim towards me. The hand not clutching the survival kit reaches out towards me.

With a final, desperate surge, I stretch out, my hand closing around his wrist in an iron grip.

I’ve got him. And I’m not letting go.

I kick frantically, dragging us both towards the relative safety of the rock face.

Toby tries to swim, too, bobbing beside me as we continue to be dragged towards where the water tumbles over a cliff.

The roar of the waterfall grows deafening, the mist spraying my face as we’re dragged closer to the edge. My muscles burn with the effort of fighting the current, my lungs screaming for air.

I kick furiously, trying to angle us towards the rock face, but the current drags us back, pulling us towards the drop. Fearclaws at my throat, but I swallow it down, focusing on the one thing that matters: keeping Toby alive.

My fingertips finally collide with the rock surface, and I scramble for a fingerhold. Ignoring the pain shooting through my hand, I reel him in towards me, tugging with all my strength, until he’s pressed up against the rock wall just upstream of me, clinging to it like a limpet.

“You all right?” I have to yell to be heard over the sound of the water.

Toby gives a rough nod.

The rocks are slippery under my hands. I lean back to look at the rock face. Can we pull ourselves out of the water?

But the rock above us is sheer, with few handholds. Further down, towards the waterfall, it looks slightly more forgiving.

Toby’s clinging to the side, his curls plastered to his skull, his hazel eyes ridiculously large as he stares at me.

And, somehow, seeing Toby like this spurs me on. I need to find a solution. I need to get Toby out of here.

“Stay here,” I instruct.

“I was planning a ziplining adventure, but if you insist,” he yells back.

Hearing Toby’s usual snark is reassuring. If Toby is still snarky, things can’t be too dire.

Clutching the rock ledge, I edge my way closer to the waterfall. I need to get an idea of what we’re facing before we decide whether to risk trying to go over the waterfall or climbing out and being shot at.

Neither option particularly appeals, if I’m being honest.