Free Wilderness Target by Sharon Dunn Page A

with her, caused guilt to wash over Clarissa again. She couldn’t risk harm to these good people.
    After ten minutes, the rain finally showed signs of letting up. She dived out into it, determined to find a way across the river and over the mountain. The water had risen several inches and was rushing fast. She remembered the log where she and Jan had crossed in the first place and ran in that direction, seeking the cover of the trees as much as possible. When she came to the log, she found it completely submerged. Clarissa stood with the wind and rain whipping around her, and tried to fight off a feeling of despair. There had to be another way across.
    She retreated deeper into the trees to escape the worst of the storm while still following the river. She heard what she thought was Ezra’s voice, though it blended with the wind. Maybe it was only her hopeful heart. She didn’t know what to do with the kind of consideration he had shown her. Part of her did not want to leave him or the group even though she knew she had to.
    She walked farther upriver, bent over to resist the worst of the storm. When she poked her head through the trees to assess crossing the rapidly moving water, she saw a flash of color ahead of her: Ezra’s rain poncho hanging on a tree. Fearing the worst, she ran toward it.
    Ezra stood in the raging water, holding on to Bruce’s upper body.
    “Hurry, I can’t hold him much longer. His arm is trapped underneath a log,” he shouted above the roar of the river. “Find something you can use to wedge it off of him.”
    Clarissa turned in a half circle, searching for a strong branch. She ran a short distance toward one, but quickly dismissed it—too weak. Bruce’s cries of agony pelted her ears. She dragged a crooked branch from beneath some thick underbrush and rushed back to the river.
    Freezing water swirled around her as she waded in beside Ezra.
    “Hold his head out of the water. I’ll lift the log off,” he told her.
    Clarissa handed Ezra the stick and nestled her hands underneath Bruce’s head, lifting it above the rushing water. He opened his eyes, but no light of recognition shone in them when he looked at her. His skin was so pale it appeared almost translucent. His lips were blue.
    Ezra stepped through the river, bending at the waist and feeling for Bruce’s arm and the log that pinned him down. He jabbed the branch into the water, then strained against it, groaning. “Now! Get him out now!”
    Clarissa wrapped her arms around Bruce’s chest and pulled backward, nearly falling into the water herself. Ezra braced her back with his arm and then gripped Bruce. They dragged the man toward safety before collapsing on the rocky shore. Bruce took in a sputtering breath and turned to one side.
    Ezra gazed up the hillside. “All of us need to get warmed up quickly. Let’s get back to the campsite. The others must have gone there already.”
    Clarissa reached out to help Bruce to his feet, but his knees buckled as soon as he stood. Ezra slipped in beside the injured man and rested Bruce’s rubbery arm on his shoulder.
    It took only seconds for the cold air to hit her skin. Her teeth chattered as they made their way up the hill. Finally, the camp came into view.
    “I’ll build a fire. You take care of his arm. Do you know how to dress a wound?”
    Clarissa nodded. “From first aid classes.”
    Ezra was already racing around the camp, pulling his pack out of the tent and slipping into a fresh flannel shirt.
    Clarissa saw no sign of Jan or Ken or Leonard. Where could they be? The camp looked out of order. One of the tents was missing, maybe blown away by the storm. Another had collapsed.
    Bruce groaned in pain, and Clarissa drew her attention back to him. He held his arm protectively against his chest. She poked her head inside one of the tents, which looked relatively dry. “Bruce, can you get in here to stay warm?”
    While he crawled into it, Ezra pulled a tarp out of his tent. “Help