Free Children of a New Earth by R. J. Eliason Page B

find a set of clothes in the center that was only slightly damp. It was a big improvement over what she had on. She walked a ways into the woods to change.
    When she returned, she found that Daniel had taken over fire duty. He had extracted his cook gear, and he and Larry were working on the first hot meal they had in what seemed like forever.
    Luke was setting up his dome tent. Amy cursed again silently. She meant to set his tent up for him, in return for the other night. She was sorry she didn’t get back sooner. She went to help him finish.
    “Wow, that was sure some storm,” he said as she approached. He seemed to be the only one whose spirit hadn’t been lost.
    “You could say that again,” she groused, though she felt better despite herself. “That is, if you are totally insane. I’d say that was the most miserable experience of my life.”
    “Sure, but think: it’ll be a great story to tell the grandkids.”
    “Grandkids?” Amy snorted. “Sure, Luke, when you have grandkids, I’ll come over and tell them the story of the time their granddad got rained on.”
    Luke blushed and looked away. He didn’t speak at all while they finished setting up the tent. Afterward, he mumbled thanks and walked off. He spoke only briefly during dinner.
    I don’t know what’s gotten into him, Amy thought sourly. Sometimes he can be as moody as, well, as Mom always said I was. She finally decided there was just no explaining some people and left him by the fire.
     
    The next couple of days went more smoothly. The weather was clear, and the sun was warm. Every night, they laid wet clothes over tree limbs and bushes. By morning, they would be that much drier. They marched through a thick pine forest that had slowly replaced the scrub.
    They were still in the mountains, and the road wound over hills and valleys. Despite the occasional climb, their course was generally down. The road often wound back almost on itself, so that at times, it felt like they were making no progress at all.
    It was the third day before they encountered their first solid landmark. It was the broken remnants of a bridge across a swift-flowing river. Jacob called a halt for lunch and then sat down a ways from everyone else to consult his map. After a while, he rose and approached them.
    “Right then, we have a couple of problems, men,” he glanced in Amy’s direction, “and ladies, no disrespect.”
    “The first problem is no doubt apparent: we have to cross this river. We had hoped the bridge would still be serviceable, but obviously it’s not. We didn’t expected this to be a problem either way, since as far as Amos or I could recall the river wasn’t deep.”
    “Usually no more than knee deep,” Larry agreed. “Used to wade in here fishing when I was a youth.”
    “Well, maybe that’s usually true, but the rains have changed things, no doubt.”
    “And the spring melt farther up,” Larry reminded him.
    “Anyway, we are going to have to send someone across with a line and make a rope bridge. It’ll have to be one of the older men; you younger guys never got a chance to learn how to swim. We didn’t have anywhere at the ranch to teach you. No, Luke,” he added to the raised hand, “this is not something you can learn from a book.”
    “Practiced in the tub too,” Luke muttered as he lowered his hand, disappointed. Amy had to fight down a giggle at the thought of the gangly Luke flapping his arms trying to swim in a tiny porcelain tub.
    “Maybe we can wade?” Patrick asked. “Looks shallow enough.”
    “That current is strong; you’ll get pulled off your feet in no time. Then you have to know what you’re doing,” Horace warned. “Better be me or Larry. I was a good swimmer once.”
    “Consider yourself volunteered,” Jacob told him. “Good, but now that’s the simple problem. According to plans, we had hoped to reach this far in the Jeep the first day.”
    There was muttering and scowls in Amy’s direction. 
    “Stop