And with that they were off.
The rain alternating with snow lightened up but never really ceased. It didn't make much difference on the longest river run, that first night. They waited out the day in a backwater of the river, with the Big Mouths either resting or probing the riverbanks for small game arid waterfowl.
The first overland trek, almost six miles, went well enough. Valentine and Nageezi hiked what felt mostly uphill on a heavy portage through the woods, following in a trail flattened by the prowling Big Mouths with fiberglass kayak, paddle, and equipment. Anything that didn't involve buckets of ice-cold water being flung in his face seemed like a treat.
He and Nageezi huddled together in the snow as they rested the
second day, eating preserved food - appallingly small portions according to Valentine's cold-sharpened appetite - the green and white mountains of the Cascades around them. They warmed their food over chemical heat and pressed close together under a thin survival blanket, recuperating.
The second night's run was a long, churning nightmare of white water as they were pulled by the strong swimming - or hopping, over some of the rapids - upstream. Nageezi had the knack of resting herself and her team in the occasional eddy better than Valentine, and by the time they went back into the water, with fresh chemical heat packs pressed to their feet and the small of their backs, he let Nageezi lead.
The rotten weather carried one advantage: It made observation from the banks almost impossible.
They waited out the third day at a lake on the Green River, with the Big Mouths philosophical about their empty bellies. They'd been trained to have a real gorge after penetrating the fake hotel built up in the airport on the third night...
For the final night's run Nageezi took amphetamines. She offered a pair of white capsules to Valentine.
"Benzedrine?"
"I'm okay", he said.
"Suit yourself", she said, popping the capsules and following them with a swig of water from a big bottle.
Valentine would have just about given a finger for a thermos of Space Needle-quality coffee. He set his kayak in the current and took up the reins from the new team with winter-chilled muscles.
"At least the weather's broke", Nageezi said, smiling. "Seattle stopped the rain".
"That's a bunch of crap", Valentine said, irritated at her chemically enhanced cheer. "They don't control the weather".
"Screw yourself", she said quietly, but Valentine's ears picked it up.
"What's that?"
"Suit yourself".
She's a Quisling. What do you care what she things?
Because, for one night, you're a Quisling too.
Valentine could live with it. He just hoped the Outlook was filled with Bears fresh from a Resource Denial operation.
The Big Mouths swam excitedly up the Green River. They could already taste the hot pork they expected to be waiting for them. Valentine marked the end of a lake on his map, and broke a chemical light. He signaled for the last portage.
Nageezi took two more bennies at the end of the portage as they slipped into the Snoqualmie, heading downstream at last. Valentine unhooked the reins from his Big Mouth team. He could paddle from here. It would warm him up.
He visualized the bodies strewn in the streets of the housing block, the fearful families in the church, and tried to summon a little of the Bear energy for the final push, but it stubbornly refused to come out of hibernation.
They rounded a bend, shot past a few boarded-up buildings heavy with snow, and there it was. The Outlook.
Valentine paddled his kayak next to hers. "Let's get a little closer". He shook a chemical light and stuck it under the water and repeated a circular signal three times; the red-eyed amphibian behemoths gathered round the kayaks.
They pulled their craft to the edge of the river, beneath a substantial lip of land, Valentine hiding the chemical light in his vest. He checked his knife, and took his guns out of their waterproof plastic sheaths.
"Feel that ring on your finger yet?" Nageezi asked. They anchored their kayaks in the shadow under the earth and rock lip. A paved river path was just on the other side of a set of white-painted warning stones.
"Not just yet. I want to hit the Outlook first".
She checked the safety on her .45, worked the slide. "If I get hit, try not to let them eat me".