Chapter 60

I BROKE THROUGH THE tree-line, the trembling beam of flashlight lighting the way. I spotted the stream. It ran fast and wide on its way to the pool and beyond that the cliff. I scanned the beam of dull flashlight over the surface of the stream, searched for a way to get across without being dragged under by the storm-fed white water. I looked for that old bridge of boulders that Molly and I had used—the one with one rock succeeding another. At the same time I looked for the lightning struck tree that might have fallen across the stream’s width. I found neither.

My hand was broken, my ribs stinging and my face split down the center. If I tried to swim, I’d drown. I moved my way upstream for maybe thirty feet, then downstream until I came to the edge of the pool.

No way across the open water. No way across. No rocks, no felled tree, no shallow land bridge. The house in the woods was located on the opposite side of the stream. Michael was held hostage in the basement of that house.

I made my way back upstream and stood on the edge of the bank, feeling the oily mist on my face, feeling the stream’s white force. I had to think like Molly. What would Molly do if she were in my boots? I knew exactly what she would do. I stuffed the flashlight into my jeans, teetered on the edge of the white water and gulped down my dread.

I jumped.