with greedy menace, and both men feared their companion was already gone.
There was a flash and a following crack of thunder so close upon it that they staggered as if an artillery shell had gone off nearby. Sparks flew in the night and there was a crash of something falling in the trees. Daniel wanted desperately to crouch and hide and wait until the storm was over, but forced himself to keep going. He tripped, sprawled, and got up again as Tucker hauled on his arm. 'I heard a yell!' the big man shouted.
They felt their way to the river's edge, rain beating on them like hail. Lightning stabbed again and they saw a tree had toppled into the current, something synthetic caught in its branches and fluttering in the current like a flag. Ico's tent! There was another yell and they saw a dark shape in the branches that could be someone's head. 'Ico!' Tucker roared. 'We see you! Work yourself this way!'
Their companion was obviously trying, but any loosening of his grip threatened to release him into the current. 'I'm going after him,' Tucker growled. He leaped in, dropping to his waist on the upstream end of his log, and immediately his feet were jerked out from under him and he went under the tree, saving himself only by grabbing the bark and hauling himself back upward on the downstream side. With difficulty, he heaved himself back onto shore, spitting dirty water. 'Damn!'
Daniel studied the tree trunk shuddering in the flood, its roots not yet fully pried out of the ground. 'I'm lighter!' he shouted above the rain. 'I'll climb out to him and you follow. When I get to him, hold my ankles and don't let go!'
The tree was slick and shook more violently the farther he inched out along it, the flood sucking at the wood. In perspective he felt like a bug swirling toward a drain, his face just inches from the water. 'Ico!' he screamed into the storm. 'Work this way!' An arm flailed as their companion struggled to do so, grasping a new branch and letting go of the old and then being jerked furiously by the current, his body like a rag snapped by the wind. Ico's strength had to be ebbing.
Daniel felt Tucker's huge hands grasp his ankles like a reassuring vise and the clamp was enough to give him the courage to stretch farther toward the third man, as if on a rack. Lightning lit the river and they glimpsed each other's terrified face. Ico reached, touched blindly, grabbed, slipped, and then snared Daniel's wrist with his other hand as he was being pulled away by the current. The fumbling was enough to pull Daniel from the tree as well and they pivoted, Daniel's legs in Tucker's grasp. Then with a frustrated grunt the third man was levered off the tree too and the trio was in the flood waters, swirling downstream in a confused tangle.
They went under, Ico clawing in terror at the other two. Everything seemed stronger than Daniel: Tucker, the frantic Ico, the kick and butt of the river. They struck something hard and it was enough to ricochet them to the surface, sucking in breaths that were half water and half air. They were in a mad pirouette, totally disoriented.
'Tuckerrrr!' Amaya was somewhere on the bank, sprinting ahead of them, and they thrashed in unison toward the sound of her voice. A bolt of lightning illuminated the uncoiling arc of a hurled line. Tucker's arm went up and he caught the rope just as Amaya was taking a desperate turn around a tree. The line tightened and so did the muscles on the big man's arm as he gripped with all his might. Now the river worked in their favor, pivoting them into the bank. They banged against roots, scrabbled, and clung, gasping for breath in the water-filled air. Daniel got an arm around Ico's chest and hauled and finally they were up, their knees on sand. He felt Amaya's small hands trying to drag them and slowly they worked away from the flood's grip. Ico was coughing and cursing.
The men lay as if dead for a moment, the woman crouched over them like shelter from the storm. Only slowly did the group realize that the rain had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The cloudburst had moved south, the electricity of its fury glinting there. The river was still full, but its roar had become less angry. The crest of the flood had passed them.
'You okay, Washington?' It was Tucker, his chest still heaving as he gasped in deep breaths.
'Hell no.' Ico groaned. 'I almost drowned.' He was soaked and coated with sand, looking as thin and forlorn as a wet cat. 'I had to get out of my bag and then out of my tent… damn, I was scared! Where did that water come from?'
'You prayed for it, if I remember correctly,' Amaya said.
'Flash flood,' Daniel explained. 'The desert doesn't absorb water, so a storm upstream sends all the rain down… I should have remembered that. We're lucky we all didn't drown. We were stupid to camp in the riverbed when we saw that storm.'
'It came and went so fast,' Amaya said.
The stars were popping out again, illuminating the churning water with dim light. 'Now we know why the ants don't nest in the riverbed,' Tucker said.
By morning the river was gone again, leaving only periodic pools. For breakfast they ate some peanuts Amaya had brought into her tent. The rest of their food had been carried downstream and they'd have to look for it. 'At least we have water,' Daniel tried to joke.
'Even that will be gone again in a few days, I'll bet,' Amaya replied.
Tucker shook his head. 'When they said 'adventure,' they weren't kidding.'
'They should have warned us about the possibility of floods.' Ico was glum. 'This isn't right. There's something about this whole thing that's not right. We could have died in our beds. Shouldn't they have warned us?'
'You said that before,' Tucker chided. 'Notice how hard it is to file a complaint?'
'Oh, I'm going to complain all right. I'm going to raise bloody hell.'
'Come on,' Daniel argued as much to himself as the others. 'This is what we paid for. We're alive, and we're learning. That's the whole point, isn't it?'
'Learning what damn fools we are,' Ico said.
They fanned out downstream and began retrieving gear, some of it half buried and much of it dented or torn. It was hot, dispiriting work because so much had been lost. They brought what they salvaged to an assembly point under a red river gum tree on the sandy bank and went through it, hanging food bags out of the reach of ants. Slowly, a meager inventory began to emerge.
'We have three of the four packs,' Daniel summarized. Amaya's had not been found. 'One tent. Tucker's is lost, and Ico's is in rags, but his sleeping bag is salvageable. We can cut it in two for the men to use as blankets, and use Ico's tent fabric to repair Amaya's. My bedroll was saved too. The best news is our boots.'
The others nodded. They'd gotten in the habit of propping them upside down on branches to keep out snakes or insects, and the bushes they'd used had been high enough on the bank to be out of reach of the river. They could still walk.
'But some of the clothes and utensils are gone,' Daniel went on. 'We'll have to share. And the food…'
'Half was either lost or spoiled,' Amaya said gloomily. 'We should have hung it up like the shoes. It would keep it from animals as well.'
'Next time. We're learning, okay?'
'So what are we going to eat?' Ico asked.
'What we always intended to, the food of the land. We just have to learn how to do it a bit quicker, that's all.'
'Daniel, let's face it. We're screwed.' It was Tucker. 'All that gear…'
'Lightens our load. Look, now we can move lighter and faster. The aborigines didn't need that crap and neither do we. Ico was about to sink into the sand with all that gear.'
'No I wasn't.'
'We've still got one compass, some matches, a stove.' Daniel felt in his pocket and pulled out a small figurine. 'And this. Good luck charm.'
'What the devil is that?' Ico asked.
'Gordo Firecracker. Righter of wrongs, nemesis of evil.'
'And the worst-performing charm I've ever seen. Haven't you heard of St. Christopher?'
'We're alive, aren't we? And light-years ahead of our primitive ancestors still. And all we have to do is walk out. Walk to the coast and go home.'
'A thousand miles.'
'Maybe. We don't know that. Maybe less. Maybe even farther. But we can do it. We're a bit bruised, a bit wiser, a bit tougher. I hope. This is what the adventure is all about.'
'The riskiest thing on earth.' Ico was quoting Elliott Coyle. No one needed to reply.
