A few seconds later, he’s moving with the group again.
I smile to myself. Another person who just needed someone to remind them the river isn’t their enemy.
I turn back to Paisley and my smile disappears.
Her kayak isn’t where it should be. At first, I don’t panic. There are a dozen kayaks on the water. People drift apart as they get distracted. Someone is always stopping to take pictures every five minutes.
Then I see the flash of pink. Her kayak is near the left bank. Too close for my comfort. The river is pulling her toward the narrow opening between the trees. That gap is the start of the branch that turns brutal quick.
My grip tightens around my paddle.
From the main channel, it doesn’t look dangerous. That’s what makes it easy to miss. The entrance is calm, almost hidden beneath the shade of the leaning trees.
Down that branch the river gets tight and narrow quickly. Rocks that are hidden beneath the surface create unpredictable currents, and fallen branches collect along the edges where the water moves fastest.
An afternoon of easy summer floating disappears quickly. The river stops allowing you to drift aimlessly and it starts deciding where you go and how fast.
“Paisley!”
She turns at the sound of my voice, and I see the fear hit her face. She knows something is wrong. Digging her paddle into the water, she tries to turn herself around, but she’s fighting against the river’s natural flow instead of working with it.
The kayak swings sideways and the current catches the back end.
“No.”
The word leaves my mouth before I realize I’ve spoken.
I shove my paddle into the water. My kayak surges forward, cutting across the current as I angle toward her. I’m vaguely aware of Dylan calling out to me but I don’t have time to reply. He can get the group to the pickup spot on his own and send someone to pick us up.
“Paisley, stop paddling!”
She looks back at me, panic written all over her face.
“I can’t!”
“I know.”
My voice is sharper than I mean it to be. Not because I’m angry, but because I’m absolutely terrified. Every tragic river accident that’s happened in the state is flashing through my head.
“Stay calm!” I yell, the exact opposite of calm. “Just balance!”
The current pulls her farther into the stream.
“Paisley!”
The peaceful rush of the main river fades behind me, replaced by the violent roar of water. The sunlight disappears beneath the trees, leaving everything darker and colder.
My arms burn as I paddle harder.
The current grabs at my kayak, trying to turn me sideways. I correct automatically, years of experience taking over before I even think about it.
This part of the river is familiar. It’s a wild ride that my brothers and I take when we need to burn off some aggression.
I know where the rocks are. I know where the current speeds up. I know where the water drops low enough to ground our kayaks and I know exactly where Paisley is headed.
Ahead of us, the river bends sharply. Beyond that bend, the water gets rough. It’s not impossible to navigate but Paisley isn’t experienced. She isn’t ready to ride the rapids.
She’s scared and that’s how people get hurt. As if on cue her arms pinwheel.
