Page 13 of The Triple Play

“You bet. Any updates we need to know?” Foxxy’s all business now, his usual grin replaced by a serious expression. He knows when to dial in.

Armstrong shakes his head. “No. Their cell service is spotty, but we’ve been able to confirm no injury, and they’re hunkered down waiting for you. But the sun's going down soon.”

“And it’s gonna be a cold one.” I nod. “We’re ready.”

A short while later, Foxxy and I arrive at the trailhead. Some of the volunteers are already there, and after a quick check-in, we head out in a team of four.

This trail is a popular one, and most of the time, it’s problem free. But heavy rains have made the water level of the usually small river, which intersects the trail at one point, swell to a level where there’s no safe way to get across without the proper equipment.

“Everyone knows the plan?” Foxxy shouts to the group as we make our way swiftly down the trail. Thankfully, the river isn’t that far along, so we should reach it soon. “I’ll traverse across, get them hooked into the harnesses, and then Griff and I will set up the guideline to help everyone get back across. Nina, you’re on deck for first-aid check. Castro, you’re backup for Griff as needed.”

Up ahead, the sound of rushing water drowns out everything else. I let out a low whistle when I see just how high the water has risen and move to Foxxy’s side.

“I don’t know if that’s safe for you to cross,” I shout, eyeing the water. “It’s moving fast, bro.”

He nods grimly. “It is, but what other options do we have?”

Not many, that’s for sure. “Okay, but we’re gonna harness you to me this time.”

Foxxy smirks. “What, don’t tell me you’re still traumatized from last January.”

I glare at him. “You mean the time you almost triggered an avalanche? Yeah, a little.”

He has the decency to look chagrined as he pulls on his dry suit. “Okay, fine. Harness.”

While he gets geared up, I look across the river to where I can see the two hikers huddled together. One of them waves, and I lift my hand to my mouth and try to get my voice across. “All good?” I get a thumbs-up in return.

Turning back to Foxxy, I help him into his harness and then put on my own before attaching the safety rope between us. Then, I hand the other end to Castro to tie off to a tree behind us. With the dry bag of equipment on his back, Foxxy lifts his hand up and we bump fists. “Let’s do this.”

“Be careful.”

He gives me a tight nod. We move to a safe entry point upstream from where the hikers are, knowing that he might get pushed downstream by the water. Then, taking one end of the static line from me and looping it loosely over his chest, he steps into the rushing, frigid water.

I keep my gaze trained on Foxxy as Castro and I work to feed him line, and he makes his way across the raging river. At one point, the level reaches his waist, and Castro lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Never seen it this high.”

Neither have I, but I don’t waste energy on saying that. Every cell of my body is focused on my best friend. I’m second-guessing our plan for him to cross solo, but it’s too late now.

Thank fuck, all the training we’ve done and all of Foxxy’s natural abilities and instincts show up, and he manages to get to the other side with only one instance where he almost lost his footing. The plan now is simple: he’ll help the hikers into harnesses, set up the two lines he’s got looped over his chest to a tree on that side, then they’ll walk it like a tightrope across the river.

At first, everything goes well. The first hiker, a guy in his mid mid-twenties, I’d guess, makes it across no problem and is full of gratitude as he lets Nina wrap him in a thermal blanket and escort him away from the riverbank. But instead of sending the second hiker right after him, Foxxy’s standing close to him, his hand on his shoulder.

I turn back to the first guy. “Is your friend injured?”

“No, just cold,” he says, tugging the blanket closer around him. Then he freezes. “Oh shit. He can’t swim.”

I close my eyes for a second, processing that additional information. “So he’s scared and won’t go. That changes the plan.”

Mentally, I curse the idiot in front of me. That’s the kind of information that would’ve been good to have before we started the rescue. Helping someone cross a raging river when they can’t swim requires a very different plan than the one we have in place now. And as much as I love the guy, Foxxy’s tendency is to act first and think last when faced with a challenge. Still, while he might be impulsive, even borderline reckless at times, he’s not stupid. I know he would never want to risk the safety of someone we’re here to rescue.

I pull out my radio and signal over to Foxxy, who has one strapped to his shoulder in a protective dry bag. I watch him move slightly away from the hiker before his voice comes crackling over the radio.

“He’s afraid to cross.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yes. Think he’ll go tandem?”

“We’re gonna have to. It’s getting dark and he’s really cold. I gotta get him back over fast so I can retrieve the line.”

“Fuck the line. It can stay.”