Page 3 of One Last Chance

The water, even on a hot Saturday in June, sent needles through him and grabbed his breath. For a second, the shock blew out his thoughts.

Then—stop.Calm down. He could hold his breath for nearly five minutes. And he’d been kayaking since he was a kid.

He pushed away from the girl, his hand still on his paddle, and righted himself.

Then he reached out and pulled her up.

She came up screaming, shivering, terrified, and grabbed at him again, but he held her away. “You’re okay. You did it. Good job.”

Her breaths cascaded over each other. “Where’s my dad?”

That’s when the pieces clicked together. He pointed to shore, where Levi stood with the father.

“And Cally?”

Cally. The other kayaker. “You get to shore!”

The orange kayak hadn’t popped out of the foamy clutter yet, so maybe . . .

He followed the red kayak to shore, secured her into Sully’s grip, and headed back out to the boil under the falls. The water leaned out, a curtain over a granite wall. Maybe she’d been caught behind it.

He paddled along the length and didn’t spot the kayak.

But he knew these falls, so that’s when he’d had the bright idea of being bait on a string.

Or perhaps a bobber, because now he fought the current, going under, back out, blinking hard to keep his eyes on his target—the overhang of granite where water splashed up, flushing back into the roiling water.

The rock crumbled like eggshells under his gloved grip, but he clawed at it, managed to hang on. He looked back at Sully and flashed a thumbs-up. Then put up four fingers.

Really, he could do five if he had to.

Then he spotted it. The orange of the kayak shoved under the rock, held tight.

Oh no—no?—

If she hadn’t released from her skirt . . .

He yanked at the kayak, barely moved it, and dug in.

The kayak eased out until the current grabbed it, then popped free, out into the churn.

Empty.

He stared at it as it floated downriver.

Bodies were heavy, especially ones without air. Which meant that she could be at the bottom, where the friction of the rock could hold on, pin her down.

He blew out a breath. What choice did he have, really?

So that others might live.The Coast Guard creed to save others, no matter the cost.

Didn’t matter if he wasn’t with the Guard anymore—the promise still stuck. He drew in five deep breaths, and went under, into the cave.

He kicked hard, the river yanking at him but also pushing, twisting, and just like that, it snarled him up, slammed him against the rock. He grabbed for a hold, but the waves buffeted him, nearly jerking out his breath. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the debris bit at them.

The current turned him and shoved him down. He scrubbed the bottom with his shoulder and searched the floor for a body.

No body, at least not that he could feel or see in the wan light.

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