Ends of the Earth

Reaching into his pack, Ben took out his water bottle and swallowed a big mouthful. It was almost empty, so he headed over to the river while he had the chance. Here, the bank was almost level with the rushing water, so it was easy to crouch and fill his bottle.

As he stood, screwing the cap back on, he glanced farther downstream. A large tree had been felled—by lightning, probably—and it stuck out into the river, its branches grasping the flowing current like fingers, and—

Red.

He took a few tentative steps, narrowing his eyes as he peered at the tree.

A few steps more and he could see the red clearly, as well as the orange band of a life jacket. His mouth went dry. Oh God. Her body must have been snagged by the tree or washed up on shore.

He forced his lead feet to move, stopping by the tree’s exposed, torn roots. Maggie was just on the other side of the trunk, tucked in close, her face obscured.

Motionless.

Harlan Brown’s evil words replayed in Ben’s head as if shouted on a megaphone. Cut her little throat open. Ben knew what he would see, but he had to look. Had to bring her home to Jason.

His hand trembled as he reached down to roll her over. His fingers closed over her shoulder, and Maggie twitched.

Ben gasped and staggered back, crashing onto his ass. Scrambling forward, he rolled Maggie toward him gently, bracing himself. No, he hadn’t imagined it—her chest moved up and down, and the skin on her neck was smooth and white and whole.

Relief and joy mingled, and he barked out a laugh that echoed through the trees. She was alive! He said a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening. “Maggie!”

She might have moaned softly in response, but Ben wasn’t sure. Her body was twisted awkwardly, and he realized her foot was pinned beneath the fallen tree. He tentatively poked and prodded her limbs, checking for broken bones. Not finding any, he stood and heaved the trunk a few inches, adrenaline sparking through him. Maggie moaned as he carefully pulled out her foot.

Cradling her in his lap, Ben pressed a finger to the pulse point on the side of her throat, just to double check. Sure enough, he felt a steady beat. “Maggie, wake up. Maggie!” He rubbed her sternum.

Her eyes flickered open briefly, and she made a low noise. Her skin was ice, and she’d obviously been in the river, her clothes still damp. Dirt smeared her, stark against her pale face. Even though the sun had come out, Maggie was obviously hypothermic, and he had to get her back to civilization, which had never seemed so far away as another night fast approached.

The quickest route to find help would be down to the most remote campground the park offered. Ben called in on his radio, telling them to send an ambulance.

He tossed the life jacket aside and hoisted Maggie into his arms. He wanted to yell for Jason, but couldn’t risk it now. Brown was still armed, and Ben wasn’t. Risking himself was one thing, and he would have done it in a heartbeat for Jason. But Maggie’s life was literally in his hands, and he had to get her to safety.

Heading south as night fell, Ben moved steadily in the fading light. His arms burned before long, and he stopped to drink more water and rouse Maggie. He managed to get her to swallow a few sips, but she couldn’t seem to really wake up.

He wanted to move as swiftly as possible, but paused to get her out of her wet clothes. The poncho had dried, but her pants and sweatshirt were cold and soggy.

With efficient movements, he peeled off her wet things and dried her with his T-shirt. The turtleneck he kept folded in his pack came down almost to Maggie’s ankles, and he pulled his spare socks onto her little feet, tugging them up over her knees. It was the best he could do under the circumstances, and he wrapped her up in the red poncho.

Maggie remained unconscious throughout, making only the odd noise. He had to move faster. Instead of holding her in his arms, this time he slung her gently over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, the moon and stars illuminating the way.

Now they just had to make it back to civilization in time.

An hour later, Maggie squirmed on Ben’s shoulder, making muffled sounds of protest. Ben shifted her into his arms, kneeling on the ground. “Maggie. It’s Ben. You’re okay.”

Her eyes opened with some struggle, and she blinked a few times before focusing on him. “Ben?” Her voice was little more than a croak.

“It’s me. You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

“Daddy?”

The lie came easily. “He’s still looking for you, but he’ll be back really soon. Don’t worry.”