The River: Chapters 16–25

Brian took the briefcase down to the raft, and decided to take a weapon—he left the bow but took two lances he had made.

He heaved and jerked and pulled until finally Derek was on the bank, lying on his side, facing the water.

He checked the breathing and heartbeat again and he was surprised to see that he did it almost automatically.

The jar of the sudden stop, even moving slowly, rocked the raft and Derek rolled against the lashings and almost fell in.

Brian leaped forward on the raft, fell on Derek and held him while the raft lurched, slid sideways, and settled against the bank, where it stuck in the dirt and brush on the edge of the river.

He would come in close to the shore on the inside of a curve; then as soon as the raft was around it, he paddled the stern over and aimed it down the center of the river, and fought to keep it in the middle.

They still did not always stay in the center of the best-moving current, but as the afternoon wore on Brian found that by frantically paddling through each curve he kept the raft moving almost at the speed of the current and away from any brush or snags on the sides of the river.

This ordeal was amazing to him, and he wondered at how it could be. Things happened so fast, changed so fast.

He started paddling, the raft moving sluggishly now that there was no real current.

He slogged forward and with the rhythm of the paddling his brain settled into numbness again and soon he was in the same trance that had led him to sleep.

He slogged forward and with the rhythm of the paddling his brain settled into numbness again and soon he was in the same trance that had led him to sleep.

He slogged forward and with the rhythm of the paddling his brain settled into numbness again and soon he was in the same trance that had led him to sleep.

This time he stayed awake, but the hallucinations grew more and more intense.

She would change into his father, who was smiling and beckoning him to paddle faster and faster; and then Derek’s breath grew louder and louder until it filled his head, the lake, the world with the rasping sound of his breathing, and Brian could hear Derek’s heart as well, pounding on the logs of the raft, echoing until all he could hear was the keening rasp of Derek’s breath and the pounding of his heart....

She would change into his father, who was smiling and beckoning him to paddle faster and faster; and then Derek’s breath grew louder and louder until it filled his head, the lake, the world with the rasping sound of his breathing, and Brian could hear Derek’s heart as well, pounding on the logs of the raft, echoing until all he could hear was the keening rasp of Derek’s breath and the pounding of his heart....

She would change into his father, who was smiling and beckoning him to paddle faster and faster; and then Derek’s breath grew louder and louder until it filled his head, the lake, the world with the rasping sound of his breathing, and Brian could hear Derek’s heart as well, pounding on the logs of the raft, echoing until all he could hear was the keening rasp of Derek’s breath and the pounding of his heart....

He wasn’t sure if his eyes were being tricked or if it was real, but Derek looked thinner to him and he wondered if getting thinner was a sign of dehydration.

If the raft had a canopy, a cover, it would help.

It took him a half hour to use some green willows and swatches of grass to arrange a crude awning over Derek.

Twice as fast as he could walk, the raft was fairly careening now.

The river moved between two large stone bluffs that formed the sides of the two hills Brian had seen on the map.

The raft bucked and tore at the water, slammed sideways.

Everything was madness—frothy green bubbles, hissing, roiling water.

Everything was madness—frothy green bubbles, hissing, roiling water.

Smashed, buffeted, he dragged himself to the side beneath the pressure wave.

Bright light flashed inside Brian’s eyes—red and glaring—and he opened them to find that he was on his back, staring directly at the sun.

It stretched away for half a mile, becoming more calm and peaceful as it dropped, nestled in trees and thick brush, a blue line in a green background.

“Derek!”
He yelled, knowing it was futile.

The mud was so thick it pulled his right tennis shoe off, and when he groped to find it the mud held his arm, seemed to pull at him, tried to take him down.

Another bend, and another, always reaching, and always Brian’s eyes sought the still form, the thatched top of the raft.

Altogether he rounded six shallow bends and still there was no raft, the stupid raft that had hung up on every bend when he was trying to steer it and now perversely held the center of the river somehow.

He knew absolutely nothing, except the raft and the paddle and his hands, which had gone beyond bleeding now and were sores that stuck to the shaft of the crude paddle...

His mother and father vowed never to let him go into the woods again, but relented after some little time when Brian pointed out that of all people who were qualified to be in the wilderness, he was certainly one of them.

“Got some freight for you.”

The driver went to the rear of the truck, opened it, and pulled out a sixteen-foot Kevlar canoe, with paddles taped to the thwarts.