Free As Darkness Gathers (Dark Betrayals Book 2) by Emma Elliot

 
    Both Timothy and Clay were shouting.  
    Grappling with the slick wood, I shimmied toward the bank until Timothy grabbed me and pulled me over the roots. A rough branch caught my sweater and tore it, scraping my stomach. Timothy and I fell in a heap in the mud, and I took a sobbing breath.  
    I was soaked from the hips down, but I’d made it.
    Timothy and I staggered to our feet, holding on to one another for support. Clay stood on the opposite bank, but he was wet from the knees down as if he’d started into the water. His face was white.
    The tree had held, and I bit my lip as Clay started across. “Be careful. Please hold. Please,” I whispered.  
    Timothy clung to me.
    The backpack had him off-balance, but Clay steadily inched across.  
    He was almost halfway when a movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. I sucked in a breath. “Clay!”
    His head snapped up at the urgency in my voice, and he looked upstream. A thick limb caught in the current was careening toward our fragile bridge. There was no time, and Clay’s gaze connected with mine just as the branch slammed into the trunk with enough force to make it shudder. It severed the roots’ tenuous hold in the mud and jerked it away from the bank.
    “ No! ” My throat felt ripped by the scream as Clay went down and was swept into the river between the two logs.
    I yanked away from Timothy and ran, slipping and sliding in the mud, screaming Clay’s name. I saw his head bob above the water and increased my pace, leaping over boulders and shrubs. I fell twice but scrambled back to my feet. Timothy was panting behind me, but I didn’t look back. A branch slapped across my face so hard it felt like a lash, and the burn blinded me for an instant. Still I ran.
    “There, Finch!” Timothy shouted, and I saw the widening of the river just as he did.
    My burst of speed came from desperation, and I slid down the muddy bank, splashed through the shallow water, and lunged for Clay as he was swept by. I caught the hood of his sweatshirt and twisted my fist into the material. One of the tree roots slammed into my shoulder, almost wrenching me away from him, but I managed to hold on even as I was pulled into the deep current. I sucked in a breath of air and then slipped under.  
    There was a yank on my hair, as if my scalp were being torn away, but then my head broke the surface and I gulped in air, choking.  
    “I have you!” Timothy shouted.
    “Don’t let go!” I wrapped my hands tighter into Clay’s sweatshirt as the current threatened to tug him away.
    Timothy dragged me back, and within a few feet, I was able to touch the rocky bottom. Timothy relinquished his grip on my hair and caught hold of Clay. Together we pulled him into the shallows, stumbling over the rocks until we heaved him onto dry land.
    He was unconscious. The bandage around his head had been torn away, and the wound gushed blood. Numerous cuts and scrapes now lacerated his face. He wasn’t breathing.
    I tilted his head back, pinched his nose closed, and sealed my mouth over his to give him two steady breaths of air. Then I leaned over him and compressed his chest thirty times, counting aloud.  
    Timothy gave a hiccupping sob when Clay remained motionless, but I closed my mouth over his again and, on the second breath, I felt his chest spasm. I rolled him onto his side just as he began to cough. Timothy and I pounded on his back as he choked and spit out water.
    When he took a wheezing breath, I began to weep. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t stand to move him further up the bank. “T-Timothy—”
    “I’ll go get help.” His lips were blue, and he was trembling as well. He stood and staggered. “I’ll get help. It’s not too far away.”
    I nodded, lifting Clay’s shoulders enough that I could slide my legs under him and cradle his head in my lap. Timothy stumbled a few steps, broke into a limping jog, and disappeared into the trees.
    Clay shivered, his breath faint and