27. Deacon

As our team stands on the bank of the river, watching as the white rapids appear at various points on either side. The flow of the river, in addition to its temperature, has us all searching for answers as to how we are going to cross. We have some rope, but not nearly enough to get over this. Ice shines from the rocks, which have been splashed but aren't moving enough to keep from freezing.

Why couldn't we do this in the summer? When the temperature wouldn't nearly kill us.

Looking at Finn and Marcus, I see the same confusion on their faces as they, too are trying to find a solution. Finn speaks up first, surprising me.

"I see two ways we can do this. The first is more time-consuming but would get us all across without having to get our gear wet. With that option, we could move some of these downed trees and create a sort of dam effect. The bigger ones are probably close to a thousand pounds, but I think if we worked together, we could move them. We would have to be fast if we want to keep them from floating off downriver."

"The second option is to break the larger limbs off and try a raft. We have rope in the camping stuff which could hold them together, but there is a larger chance the whole thing capsizes, and everything ends up soaked."

Both options sound terrible.

"Wouldn't the river move the trunks before we could get the next one placed?" Stone asks, voicing the question I had because of the two plans; that"s the one I like more.

"We would have to start with the first one half on the bank, half in the water. Then, the second trunk would sit in front of the first, starting at the waterline and so on until we hit the beach on the other side. The trunks will get wet and will be slippery, but on the final pass is when we would have to bring our gear for the first time so we could problem solve in the meantime." He shrugs, his logic sounding reasonable to me.

"Then let"s get moving. This might take longer, but keeping our gear dry is more important since we have to sleep on those bed rolls tonight," I say, dropping my bag at the tree line and searching for the closest downed trunk to move.

We move seamlessly, like a well-oiled machine, for the next two hours. Moving logs far larger than expected once our first attempt wasn't heavy enough to stay on the bank.

It takes us sixteen fully grown trunks to get to where we finally touch on the other side. As we place the last one I nearly jump for joy, knowing there is only one more trek across this makeshift bridge dam before we can be on our way.

The river at this point is about fifty feet across and, if I'm guessing, close to ten feet deep. All three of us are exhausted from moving thousands of pounds to make this work. It appears to be holding for now, but we need to move so that the current doesn't push anything loose. At several points in our makeshift bridge, the trunks dip into the water, meaning the tops of the trunks are now wet and have water flowing over them. So far, we have only gotten wet up to our knees, but we will have to hurry if we have any hope of it holding until we cross.

When we all convene on the other bank to grab our bags, we decide on an order, putting logic over our own feelings. We need food since our wolves can be used to fight off the chill if our clothes get wet. Having the camping supplies would be nice, but medical supplies are the top priority, so Finn takes the first spot in our line. I follow behind, and Marcus pulls the rear.

We used a few feet of the rope from the camping supplies to tie a section between the three of us in an effort to keep any of us from heading downstream if we happen to fall. We leave enough room to move about five feet before the rope pulls taut, and we have to slow down.

Finn takes his first steps onto the log, adjusting his balance now that he has a full backpack, changing his center of gravity, and moves carefully forward two steps to allow Marcus and me to do the same.

The logs bob some as our weight is placed on them, and we adjust our feet to ensure they don't roll due to the pressure.

Once all three of us make it onto the first log, Finn continues. He carefully selects his foot placement and moves in an almost cat-like fashion low to the ground to maintain his footing as he goes.

We make it to the halfway point in the river without any issues, and I can see our confidence beginning to build as the other bank approaches. We start to move more quickly and settle into a rhythm of stepping and waiting to keep from pulling the ropes.

It's not until we get to the three-quarter mark that the plan begins to fall apart. A loud cracking sound rings out, and we freeze as we look for the source of the noise. Two trees behind us slip from their position. The makeshift bridge begins to separate, pieces floating off and moving downstream, causing the remaining logs to crack due to the increased pressure of the moving water.

Now, normally, this would be fine, as we had already passed that point, but unfortunately, the only way our design worked was by using the trunks before as leverage for those that came after. This log snapping in two means that the logs after it will have less stability and will also begin to shift with the flowing river.

The realization that the bridge is crumbling behind us seems to hit us in unison, and we start to move with as much speed as we can muster, knowing we have a few seconds before the rest of the bridge is washed away downstream.

Right foot, left foot, right foot, left… and then my right foot gives way as the log shifts, and I land belly first in a bear hug on the log. Marcus, to his credit, makes a jump onto my log and stabilizes between my legs, which are now soaked and wrapped around the large piece of wood.

Shit!

I attempt to stand back up, but I feel the trunk losing its hold on the previous log and hold still instead.

"Cut the rope and go over me!" I shout to Marcus, knowing if I get up, the force of the movement will knock him back, possibly sending him into the river.

"Not a chance! We aren't leaving you behind." He responds, his face resolute in the decision.

I don't have time to argue with him, and instead, I slide a pocket knife from my leg, slicing the length at my front and my back to ensure neither is still tied to me. Marcus's face falls, and anger fills his eyes.

"I'm coming behind you, but I need you to move, or I'll dump you in the river. Now get over me before we both drown!" I order, refusing to let his hero-complex fuck this whole challenge up.

To my surprise, he doesn't argue and moves to climb over my prone body. Looking back up to see that he's clear, I notice once Finn is loose, he finishes moving along the bridge and lands safely on the bank.

One down, two to go.

With Marcus clear, I spring up, pushing my feet hard, knowing the movement would be enough to knock the log off its placement but understanding that I needed to get off this log to get to safety. I pounce forward, no longer trying to stay low and place each foot as hard as I can into the center of the trunk ahead.

Once I'm free of the trunk, it fully submerges, turning horizontally and bobbing down the river until it crashes into a section of boulders, which causes it to splinter and crack.

That would have been me had I held on another minute.

I dance the final few steps and dive into the sand just as the last trunk is washed away, leaving no evidence of the hours of work it took to get across.

We sit, breathing heavily for a moment before I begin to laugh. Both at the absurdity of that challenge and the amazing boost of adrenaline I now have having survived.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Marcus and Finn join me, and for a moment, we aren't in a challenge. We aren't competing; we are three young men surviving the wilderness.

Once we get calmed down, I turn to Finn.

"Great plan. Worked like a charm, but maybe next time we just build a boat?" I offer, throwing a grin solidly in place.

"Hey, it worked, mostly," he laughs in response.

"I'm just glad it did because I forgot to mention I can't swim," Marcus admits, a bit of humor still in his tone.

Both Finn and I whip our heads toward him.

"You WHAT?!? You didn't think that would have been more helpful to know before we did ALL of that?!" I shout at him, losing some of the lightheartedness I had a moment ago.

He could have died. We had no idea!

"Didn't think it would do anything but add to the stress, honestly," he shrugs before continuing, "Plus, it turns out it wasn't relevant anyway since we made it across and all."

The urge to punch him right in his perfectly square jaw almost overtakes me, but the innocent grin on his face gives me pause. This is my friend. My stupid, completely insane friend, but my friend all the same.

"Fucking idiot," Finn whispers, shaking his head as he takes the words out of my mouth.

"How about, going forward, small tidbits like that are shared first, okay? So, you know, we can all be prepared for anything." I ask, allowing my tone to float back to the lighter sound it had before his revelation.

The idiot couldn't swim and just fucking threw caution to the wind to get across for the team.

It's at this moment I realize how much Stone has come to mean to me, how worried his statement makes me feel, how I could've lost him right there in the Colorado River. For the first time since leaving Grace in Reno, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. I need to protect him from himself. Marcus is too good for this world of political backstabbing and greedy power games.

It's then I start planning a new future. One where I can be his Second. Let him lead, and serve beside him and protect the goodness he has inside. Grace and I can join whatever pack he takes over, and I will stand by his side, ensuring he doesn't lose the integrity and honor he carries now.

We just need to survive this stupid trial first.

Standing up, I stretch my calf muscle out. It fully healed after I shifted at lunch two more times. I still can't believe Rod had them shoot me.

I will kill him for this.

He wanted an enemy, and he got one.

I hate that it cost my team our advantage. It could still mean we fall behind in the competition. We could lose, and it would be because of the shit between my Alpha and Rodriguez. Shit that has nothing to do with me.

Fucking politics.

Marcus and Finn both stand up and throw on their packs, and we head to the red marker sitting in the tree line with our next clue.