HELP.
That was the only thing Zeke heard before the sound vanished beneath the roar of water.
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
Layla.
For a moment, time froze around him.
His body moved before thought could form. He stepped forward, heart slamming against his ribs, breath tearing out of him.
He had to save her.
Then splash.
Someone had already jumped in.
Zeke's stomach dropped for a heartbeat, disoriented, mind scrambling to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. He turned sharply.
Julie stood beside him, eyes wide, mouth agape, one hand half-raised as if she had tried to stop someone and failed.
Neil was gone.
Zeke lunged for the river.
Julie grabbed his arm.
"No," she said, sharp and absolute. "You'll only be a burden."
The words hurt. They landed hard. For a moment he wanted to tear free, to shout at her, to prove her wrong.
But he couldn't.
Neil was by far the best swimmer in the orphanage. That was the truth, and Julie knew it, and so did Zeke.
Julie released him and moved instead, crouching near the bank. "We make space," she said quickly. "Clear the edge. Let's make their way easier when they come back up."
Zeke swallowed and nodded, forcing his hands to obey as they shifted stones away from the bank. All he could do now was to trust Neil.
Cold slammed into him like a fist, stealing the breath from his lungs. For a heartbeat his body froze, muscles locking, chest tight as if the river's cold water was a binding rope.
Then instinct took over. His arms cut through the icy water, legs kicking against a current that tried to tear him sideways.
He caught sight of Layla, tiny, fragile and flailing, hair plastered to her face, arms thrashing with the panic of someone drowning. Neil's chest hammered, every heartbeat thunderous, every nerve screamed at him to save her.
Jagged stones jutted up beneath the water, slick with mud and moss. One wrong crash, and Layla's body would be smashed to bits and pieces.
The thought alone made Neil clench his teeth in frustration.
Neil's legs churned, muscles screaming, calves on fire, knees bruising against stones he couldn't see. The river pushed, yanked, twisted him like a rag doll. Cold bit deep into his bones as pain flared along his shoulder, ribs, and thigh, each strike setting his sensory nerves on fire, but he ignored it all. Nothing mattered except getting to her.
Closer. Just a little closer.
His fingers brushed fabric, slick with water and cold, and closed around it. He had her.
Layla screamed, high and sharp, instinct overpowering reason as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, legs kicking wildly, dragging him under the water.
Neil swallowed water, the cold burning his throat, lungs stabbing with every breath, but he forced his panic down. He tried to calm her down, shift her grip, anything that would raise their chance of survival.
Crash.
Stone met flesh and bone. Neil twisted instinctively, curling around Layla, taking the impact himself. Pain erupted in his shoulder. White. Blinding. Fire racing up his arm. Numbness followed instantly, dead weight hanging useless at his side.
But the collision slowed them down just enough.
Neil gasped, coughing. He reached for the stone, fingers scraping uselessly against slick rock. His injured arm wouldn't respond. It hung dead at his side.
The river took them again.
"So this is it."
The thought slithered into his mind uninvited, calm in a way that scared him.
Stories always talked about awakening some dormant powers in moments like this. Miracles they called them.
If not now then when.
Nothing came.
No surge. No warmth. No divine hand pulling them free.
He was forsaken by the heavens.
Fine.
Then fuck the heavens.
Neil tightened his grip around Layla and lifted his head just in time to see it. A massive boulder ahead, water tearing violently around it. Thick mossy vines dangled from it, whipping in the current.
One chance.
One wrong crash meant death.
But if he did nothing, they would die anyway.
Neil twisted his body, dragging Layla against his chest, and turned his injured shoulder toward the boulder.
Impact tore a scream out of him.
His shoulder shattered against stone. Pain ripped through his nerves so violently his vision went black for a heartbeat.
But they stopped.
For now.
The vines were right there.
Too far for his good arm.
Too close to his broken one.
Neil laughed weakly, breathless and shaking.
So he did what every hero should do.
"No fuck the heroes too."
He did what every brother should do.
He reached out with the broken arm.
Pain shot up his shoulder, but his hand closed on the vine. He screamed, sound raw and tired, and used his other arm to shove Layla upward, pressing her small body against the rough stone grinding his face and chest for better grip
Stone scraped skin. Blood mingled with river water. Agony splintered through him like glass. Inch by inch, he clawed forward, muscles screaming, lungs burning.
They were alive.
For now.
The vine creaked.
Zeke and Julie ran along the riverbank, feet slipping on damp soil, breath tearing from their chests. The ground blurred beneath them as they tried to keep pace with the water carrying Neil and Layla downstream.
Julie ran with her jaw clenched tight. She wanted to look away. She really did. Every instinct screamed at her to turn her head, to stop watching, to spare herself the sight of it. But she couldn't. Her eyes stayed locked on the river, on the boy fighting it to save his younger sister.
Zeke ran beside her, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Fear gnawed at him, sharp and relentless. Awe and respect tangled with it.
But above all, he felt useless.
Zeke hated how useless he felt, how all he could do was run and pray for their safety.
Then they stopped.
The water split around a boulder ahead, churning and violent, and there he was.
Neil had done it.
For a single, fragile moment, relief flooded Zeke's chest so hard it almost knocked him breathless. Layla was against the stone. She was alive. She was still screaming, still moving. They had made it.
Then Zeke saw Neil's arm.
It hung wrong.
Not just injured. Wrong. Twisted at an angle no arm should ever bend, skin already swelling, streaked with blood where the stone had torn it open. His fingers twitched uselessly, trembling as if they didn't belong to his body.
The vine wrapped around that arm creaked loudly, fibers snapping one by one.
Julie's breath hitched. "Neil…"
Neil looked at them, eyes sharp despite the pain, despite the river battering his body. He didn't waste time. He knew.
The vine would not hold.
He shifted his grip and used his good arm, the only one still listening to him, to pull Layla close. The motion cost him. Zeke saw it in the way Neil's jaw locked, the way his body shook. Still, he forced himself to move.
"One chance," Neil shouted, voice raw. "Don't waste it."
Zeke's hands shook as he stepped closer to the edge. Julie followed beside him, arms ready, eyes never leaving Layla.
Neil swung.
The motion was desperate and brutal.
For a heartbeat, Layla was flailing in the air, small and weightless. Zeke and Julie reached out to catch her at the same time, their hearts thumping with fear.
They caught her, both of them stumbling back as Layla crashed into their arms. She sobbed into Julie's shoulder overflowing with fear and guilt.
Zeke didn't look at her. He looked back at the river. Neil was still there.
Barely.
All the weight now rested on his broken arm. Blood ran freely, streaking down the stone and vanishing into the current. His face was pale, teeth clenched so hard his jaw trembled.
The vine snapped.
Neil's arm gave out at the same time.
Zeke saw him fall.
One moment he was there.
The next, he was gone, taken by the river.