Andrew Klavan - If We Survive

“I can’t go another step,” Nicki complained. “I’m serious. I need to rest. I need to. I’ll die if we just keep marching like this.”

“Well, we’re heading on,” Palmer answered. “You can wait here and catch up with us when you have the strength.”

I didn’t hear Nicki’s answer, but a moment later she came down the narrow path with the others, so I guess she had gone another step and she didn’t die—at least not just yet.

Palmer took the lead again. We followed him on through the heavy underbrush. Now that I knew it was there, I heard the whoosh and burble of the river continually. It was growing louder every second.

Then I heard Nicki up ahead of me let out an astonished, “Oh. No.”

A second later I was standing with her and the others, staring at the river stretched out before us.

The jungle broke off here and then there was a muddy strip of earth and then the water. Beneath a ribbon of open sky winding over the clustered trees, the current snaked down out of the mountains to our left, and snaked away into the forest to our right. I’m not much good at measuring distances, but I guess the river was about as wide at this point as a football field is long. And while the water seemed dark here, you could look at the reeds bending over in it and you could see the force of its flow.

I turned to look downriver and I saw where the white water began just at the next bend. Gray shadows of rocks jutted dangerously out of the swirling rushes and eddies. Palmer had said there was a falls after that, but it must’ve been around the curve, out of sight.

“How deep is it?” asked Nicki nervously.

“It’ll be close to your waist at the deepest part,” Palmer said, “but it’s the shallowest spot we can reach.”

“The current seems slower up there,” said Jim, lifting his chin to point toward the mountains. “Less likely to knock us over.”

“It’s slower, but it’s deeper in the middle,” Palmer told him. “We’d be over our heads and off our feet and the current would carry us right back here before we got to the far shore.”

“But what happens if we do get knocked over?” asked Nicki.

Palmer didn’t answer her.

“What happens if we get knocked over or fall?” Nicki insisted.

“Just don’t,” Palmer told her—and he squelched down the muddy bank toward the river’s edge.

He started calling instructions to us as we trudged after him. He had to raise his voice over the sound of the rushing water.

“Kid,” he said.

I looked at him. He looped his rifle strap over his head so he wouldn’t have to fight to hold on to the weapon in the current. I did the same. Then he turned to the others.

“All right, we’re gonna lock arms. Boy-girl-boy-girl, with me on one end and the kid on the other, Jim in the middle. The guys are heavier and stronger and that’ll keep us all anchored. Face upstream—that way, toward the mountains— but we’re gonna slant our path slightly downstream as we move to absorb some of the pressure. Stay on your feet and keep moving. Let’s go.”

With a soft splash, Palmer stepped into the water. He offered Meredith his arm. She linked her arm in his and Jim linked up with her. Then Nicki. Then me. Nicki’s arm felt very slender and fragile in mine.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened,” Nicki muttered forlornly.

“Yeah,” I said. “Since the last thing that happened.”

Palmer moved out deeper into the river, tugging the rest of us after him. For the first few steps, the water only swirled up around his feet. Then, very quickly, it was up to his knees. Meredith sank in after him and Jim, Nicki, and I followed.

I felt Nicki shudder beside me as the water came up over the cuffs of her khakis. “Do you think there’ll be more of those snakes?” she asked in a small voice.

“Try not to think about it,” I told her. That’s what I was trying to do—and I really didn’t appreciate her bringing it up.

“Oh, thanks,” said Nicki. “How am I supposed to not think about getting killed by poisonous snakes?”

“Try praying instead.”

“I haven’t stopped praying! That just makes me think about it more .”

“Maybe try some different prayers,” I said. Silent ones, I added to myself.

The water climbed up my jeans as we were speaking. It wasn’t too cold, but the force of it was pretty surprising— almost shocking. It was a steady trembling push, as if some invisible giant had braced himself against the earth and was trying to shove us over with all his might. The deeper it got, the harder it got to fight against it. It seemed about to carry us away—and the slippery rocks and pebbles that kept sliding around under my sneakers on the bottom didn’t make it any easier.

“It’s so strong,” said Nicki.

“Just keep steady,” I said—trying to sound more confident than I felt. “We’re all locked together. We won’t let you fall.”

“What happens if we do fall? Will we die?”

“Just concentrate on staying steady, Nicki.”

“Why won’t Palmer just tell us what will happen?”

“I guess he wants you to suspend your imagination,” I said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means try not to think about it.”

“Oh, great, that’s what you said be—”

Then she slipped. She gave a little cry and I felt her weight on my arm as one of her feet went out from under her. Our human line stopped as Jim and I both bent our arms harder, fighting to hold on to her. I could feel the weight of her dragging us downstream. But she quickly worked her feet back under her. Then she was standing and Jim and I kept her steady. We started edging across again.

Now maybe you’ll pay attention to what you’re doing, I thought, annoyed. Somehow I managed to keep from saying it out loud.

We came out toward the middle of the river. As we got farther from the banks, farther from the trees, we had a wider view upstream. It was a pretty amazing sight, I have to say. The deep-green jungle rose into soft-green jungle hills. The hills rose into steel-blue mountains, their jagged peaks hazy in the rising mist. The first clouds of the day were coming in over the high horizon. Their majestic white shapes decorated the pale-blue sky and cast running shadows over the jungle below. A bird cried out and a huge blue heron suddenly winged out of the trees and passed overhead—it looked like a living airplane, something out of a fantasy.

“It’s all so beautiful,” I heard myself say.

“Beautiful?” said Nicki at once. “Yeah, if the snakes don’t bite you or some animal doesn’t eat you or you don’t fall into the water and die.”

“It is beautiful,” said Jim on the other side of her, as we edged even deeper into the water. “It’s a beautiful country. It’s the people who make everything stink.”

The water rose up my legs. I felt the push of the current grow stronger against me and had to focus on keeping steady on my feet. Still, I lifted my eyes to take in the incredible view one more time. I guess, in one way, Jim was right. There was a lot of poverty and violence and cruelty in this country. So without the people, I guess it would all just be beautiful scenery like this. But then, without people, what difference would any of it make? Who would even appreciate how beautiful it was—besides God, I mean.

The water was high now, high on my thighs—higher on the shorter Nicki. She was up to her waist in it. And suddenly, she made a noise—not a scream or anything, just a little trembling gasp of fear—and she stopped moving.

My shoulder bumped into her and a rock went out from under my sneaker. I staggered and nearly fell but managed to sort of squat down and steady myself, fighting back against the water that was pushing against my chest. I straightened, the water splashing down around me. I tried to continue edging along, but Nicki had stopped completely. Our little line came to a standstill.