James Axler – Gaia’s Demise

“Hot pipe, no wonder they stopped chasing us!” Dean panted, stuffing MRE packs into his pockets.

After lashing a rope around about her waist, Krysty joined Ryan at the helm, fighting for control of the craft. “Easy. Don’t fight it!” Ryan shouted. “Trim into the flow. We need speed!”

“Fast, then sharp!” J.B. called out from the cargo raft, with Doc beside him at the tiller.

“Together!” Ryan shouted, stealing a glance at the chains mooring the crafts in tandem. “Must be together, or we go in!”

“Follow your lead!”

Hair plastered to her head, Krysty yelled, “We going to shoot past the rim?”

“Unless you got a better idea!”

The entire world seemed to be vibrating. Spray soaked them in a matter of seconds, the thickening mist blocking any view of what was coming. A low moan came from the vortex, the noise raising and lowering.

Suddenly, the mists parted and there it was again. The river dropped away to their left, the swirling cone of water extending out of sight. Every loose item on the raft tumbled away as the craft tilted dangerously to the right. Pots, pans and the last LAW rocket flew off and the supplies bulged under the canvas sheet, straining to break loose.

Speech was impossible, so Ryan shouted orders into Krysty’s ear. She nodded and drew her revolver, praying to Gaia that the others would understand. Krysty fired three shots into the air, then two shots, then one.

In unison, both teams strained at the helms, forcing the doors to angle away from the whirlpool. Instantly, they began to swing that way. But the hinges were tearing free from the log, and the shaking doors slashed flesh like a butcher’s knife. Blood flowed from their hands as the companions fought for their lives against the savage fury of nature.

The rafts broke free of the whirlpool, sent flying yards high by their momentum to violently splash down in the briny waters on the other side of the islet. The logs writhed, and a dozen ropes snapped, but the chains held and the rafts didn’t break apart.

Everybody took the moment of peace to catch their breath, and flex tired hands. Behind them, the vortex swirled and moaned, but the ocean waters were now working with them to shove the rafts away from the deadly whirlpool.

Drenched, J.B. grabbed Mildred by the collar and soundly kissed her. She returned the favor.

Doc merely beamed like an idiot. “By gad, we made it! Huzzah!”

“Not yet,” Ryan shouted, his ears ringing slightly from the pounding surf. “White water ahead!”

Rising from the rushing waters were dozens of rocks and boulders, the river crashing against them in foamy waves that shot twenty feet into the sky.

In shock, Dean realized they were going downhill, the river waters increasing to incredible speeds. The crashing waves hid the rocks from sight, and the mounting currents buffeted the rafts helplessly from side to side. He wanted to shout advice, or a suggestion, but not a damn thing came to mind.

“We’re heading for shore!” Ryan bellowed, tightening his grip on the battered door from the APC. Through the waves, he could see green trees to their right. The islet had to have been the tip of a delta. Dry land was only yards away.

Then the front raft bounced off a rock, and the timbers cracked from the impact, the chains straining to hold the tiny craft together. Another boulder appeared, and Jak shoved with a pole as Ryan and Krysty leaned into the tiller. At the last moment, the craft swung away from the granite outcropping with the second raft sluggishly lagging along in its wake. But not fast enough.

A green wall of moss-covered granite loomed into sight, and the cargo raft smacked the rock a glancing blow, the logs yawning wide below their boots as the ropes were tested to the breaking point. Once more the chains saved the raft from total destruction.

The sky was full of falling water, boulders everywhere. Then a low thunder could be heard, a rumble that grew in force of volume until there was nothing else in the world.

A terrible suspicion grew in Ryan, and he again tried for the shore, but it was too little, too late. The companions didn’t have time to curse or scream as the homemade rafts sailed over the edge of the gigantic waterfall and tumbled downward into the misty abyss.