Free Fatal Descent by Beth Groundwater Page A

tied together to the front of each raft. The water jugs were all accounted for, as were the oars, first aid kit, and other gear—except for a waterproof metal ammo box containing their permits and the radio. It was gone.
    Shit!
    Remembering that the ammo box had been sitting loose next to one of the dry food boxes versus clipped to one of the raft fittings with a carabiner, Mandy’s heart sank. She scanned the river bank, hoping the ammo box hadn’t been knocked into deep water. She spied a metal corner sticking out of the water next to the first step that had been carved in the sand bank.
    Yes!
    She clambered over the rafts until she reached the one next to the box, which was stuck bottom-up. She tugged and tugged at it until the mud released it with a wet sucking sound. But the damn thing was open. The plastic bag with the permits inside came loose and floated out into the water. Mandy snatched it up with a surge of relief. When she looked inside the ammo box, though, she blew out a breath. The radio transceiver was coated with mud, and the external antenna was broken.
    No way in hell is that going to work.
    Rob appeared on the bank. “What happened here?”
    Mandy held up the muddied ammo box. “I don’t know. Bear maybe. Everything else seems to be okay, but our radio is toast.”
    “What?” Rob stepped into one of the rafts and took the radio from Mandy. He rinsed the mud off of it in the river then tried keying it on, but nothing happened. “Crap. These things are supposed to be water-resistant.”
    Then he looked around at the raft. He pointed to the lid of one of the coolers that showed four closely spaced long mud streaks, as if left by four claws. “It does look like a bear left that, but it’s sure big for a black bear.”
    “I wonder why we didn’t hear anything,” Mandy said. “Our tent was closest to the water.”
    Rob shrugged. “The bear was sneaky, I guess, or we were dead to the world after getting to sleep so late. I hope it wasn’t in camp.”
    “I don’t see any prints on the river bank here. Go check for paw prints in camp while I clean this mess up,” Mandy said.
    After Rob left, she splashed river water on the mud stains to rinse them off. Then she gathered eggs, bread, strawberries, and other break fast ingredients.
    Rob returned and took some of the supplies. “No bear prints in camp, and nothing’s been messed with there. I’m still amazed a bear attacked the rafts. There’s never been a sighting of one along the river. But we’re running behind. C’mon, let’s get some food cooking.”
    As she left the rafts, Mandy scanned the river bank again. “It’s odd that there aren’t any prints in the sand here, either. Maybe it swam over to the rafts from upstream.”
    “I’m just glad it didn’t do more damage.” Rob hefted the radio. “I’ll crack this open and let the parts dry in the sun for a day. Maybe I can get it working after it dries.”
    Mandy worried her lip. “In the meantime, we have no way to call for help if we need it.”
    Of course, there were very few spots along the river where they could call anyway. Radio repeaters had been installed only where outfitters would most likely need to call in, like at the confluence or at the end of Cataract Canyon to request a pick up or to rendezvous with others. But the lack of a radio still made her nervous.
    Back at the camp kitchen, she saw Kendra had quietly exited the women’s tent and was ready to help. The five staff quickly divvied up the work of preparing breakfast while Rob and Mandy filled in the others on the bear’s thwarted attack on the rafts.
    “Good thing its claws didn’t puncture any of the raft tubes,” Gonzo said while toasting bread on the griddle.
    Kendra paused in chopping onions, mushrooms, and tomatoes for omelets. “That would have set us back at least an hour while we patched and reinflated the tubes.”
    “Usually bears don’t come down to the main river,” Cool said while