Free Down River by Karen Harper

the twilight. Yes, he’d said it never got dark this time of year. The sunset had faded to pale hues with cirrus clouds roped across the heavens. Mitch had been right—she was cold. But nothing compared to beingin the river. Yet a chill snaked up her spine when she remembered that someone had shoved her in that river. Hadn’t they? Jonas or Vanessa? Christine Tanaka knew where she was going and maybe knew that Mitch was running a bit late. Surely not the Bonners? Or could she have just stumbled and hit her head? No way had she been so drawn by that white water, felt so strange and guilty and then leaped toward it of her own accord.
    The howling, long, low and lonely, came again. What was it? How close? Surely that was not a bear.
    “Mitch. Mitch!”
    He stirred, then lifted his head. “What?”
    That horrible howling again. The hair prickled on the back of her neck, and her stomach cartwheeled.
    “Just wolves,” he said.
    “Just? Then what are we doing here near them? They hunt in packs to eat big game, don’t they?”
    “My guess is they have plenty to eat out here besides humans. That’s probably their version of a love song to a mate. I think they avoid people.”
    “You think they avoid people?”
    “Yeah. Bears do, too, if you make enough noise—unless they’re protecting cubs. Are you warm enough?”
    “Not really.”
    “Since you won’t sleep with me—you know what I mean—you could take my knife and cut some more fireweed and make a kind of extra blanket for yourself.”
    “I changed my mind. I want in the tent.”
    He said nothing, but unwrapped and lifted the edge of it for her. She scooted close, put her back to him and rolled inside the warmth and safety of his arms. Her cheek was on his bicep, as hard as the ground had been, but so comforting. She felt his hot breath on the nape of her neck, and her bottom pressed against his thighs. What would it have been like to have a lifetime of closeness like this with him, not forced but chosen? A relationship not damaged and broken but healthy and whole?
    “When are we heading out?” she asked.
    “Let’s give it a couple of hours unless those howls get closer. Blueberries and water for breakfast, then we’ll head for the river below the falls. The Wild River’s not so wild there, divides into four or five more shallow braided streams where we can walk across. There’s a road on the other side. We can hike out on it or maybe even hitch a ride.”
    “How long a trek?”
    “Never walked it before, only seen it from the air.”
    He yawned, stretching a bit, flexing his muscles, then relaxing. She was panicked to realize she could feel his merest movement in the pit of her belly. Even in this tight wet suit, her breasts tingled. She had to get him talking, maybe really wake him up so they could push on now.
    “I’m sorry I ruined everything,” she told him. “I mean at the lodge, where you had those bonding activities planned for everyone.”
    “Yeah. The Bonners’ bonding experiment.”
    “It’s not fair if this disqualifies me.”
    “Maybe they’ll see you as a survivor who can handle anything after this.”
    “I’d like to pretend so—that this is all some sort of test, and they’ll jump out of the berry bushes and say, ‘Surprise! You were just on Candid Camera, ’ or something like that. Then the emcee will say, ‘Here in the Alaska twilight, we have seen how a wimpy South Florida native was saved from the raging river and taught to survive in the wilderness by—’”
    “Shh!”
    “Sorry. I’ll shut up and try to sl—”
    “Lisa, shut up! I think I hear a plane!”
    He yanked their canvas cover open and jumped up. She heard it now, too, a much better sound than wolves howling. She staggered to her feet as he ran back toward the bog, into more of a clearing than where they were with bushes and birch trees.
    “Damn!” he shouted, pointing back toward the river. “I think it might be Spike’s plane, though there are