Eve and I gasp for breath before the water sweeps in and sloshes over our heads. The remnants of the hollow tree drops below the surface, but buoyancy pushes it up where only the rounded top rises above the river. A split second later, the current swooshes in from the front and washes over us, shoving our bodies toward the rear of the log as it exits the end. In the middle of the deluge, the gaping hole the rhino-bear ripped open appears to be our only a way of escape.

I punch and claw at the opening, enlarging it for us to poke our heads through. We pull ourselves up and sit, now riding the log like a kayak, careening atop the river rapids with enough drag to keep our pace at a manageable speed. At first, it seems like our makeshift boat might kill us, but now I think otherwise.

My survival hopes soar as we round a long curve, darkness enveloping the path ahead.

From behind, I clasp an arm around Eve, coiling it around her stomach. She leans into me as we come out of the bend into a straightaway.

We're still far from getting out of this unscathed.

Possibilities swirl in my head. If we can make it to the riverbank, we could stretch out and try to pull ourselves from the water. But then I consider the log. The weight and momentum would render such an attempt impossible, making it too heavy to halt our progress in the river, let alone allow us to hold a spot next to the bank long enough to climb out and crawl ashore.

No, we will have to ditch the log to escape the river. Somehow.

All the speculation of drawing near the bank becomes pointless as we rush along, held firmly within the powerful rapids.

The farther we go, the louder the river roars, building to a feverish crescendo of crashing water. Somewhere ahead of us, the tempest climaxes. It thunders in my ears. I yell a warning to Eve, but even inches from her ear, she doesn't respond. She can't hear me. It's so loud.

The thought of what awaits us makes my pulse skyrocket and my eyes probe the dark like laser scanners. Eve grips my thigh and squeezes the leg of my cargo pants. She cranes her neck around and her mouth moves, but I can't hear what she's saying. No. She's not saying anything; she's yelling at me.

In the shadowed movement of her mouth, I lip-read a two-syllable word. A word that's already banging around in my mind.

Waterfall.

Water.

Fall.

I knew it! There's a waterfall further down the river. With this confirmation, my heart jackhammers against my rib cage. My jaw flies open as my eyes see what my ears had heard and my brain already suspected, what Eve already knew.

Under the full moon's brightness, the approaching edge of the drop-off billows into a frothy whiteness as the river increases speed, rumbling with intensity, spilling over and crashing to the bottom. Mist rises and catches a sheen of the lunar body as it hangs in the sky above it. We're headed right toward the giant waterfall, a plunge to certain death.

As the hollow log speeds toward the fall, I glimpse a dark shape protruding above the river. Eve jabs a finger toward the black irregular object knifing across the water. Whatever it is, it's only a few feet above our heads, putting it within reach.

As we draw closer, the puzzle rearranges and fits into place. I know what I'm seeing. The rusted out rails of a structural metal support. Before the global ocean covered everything, there was a bridge spanning a pre-flood river. The natural lay-of-the-land and the water's runoff had almost returned things to normal.

"Reach for it!" I say.

She nods, her wet hair matted against her neck.

She hears me this time.

The log speeds toward the support railing, faster the closer we get to the edge of the waterfall.

Almost there.

The rails jut out over us, three feet above our heads.

I scoot back on the seat of my pants and lunge upward.

As my hands contact the old metal, my calves slam against the back of the log's hole, holding it in the rushing current to keep it from shooting out over the waterfall.

We're fifteen feet from going over.

I hold on with all my strength, my chest and biceps swelling against the river's flow.

Eve lurches up and grips her hands around the lowest part of the rails. The metal is thick like the steel girders of a skyscraper, but it's worn thin from rust and salt water corrosion. While I hold us in place, she clutches at a diagonal support. The angle is acute, and she slips, but above that strut, she extends her other hand and snags a horizontal rail. She heaves herself up and hikes a leg onto the bottom beam. She's up and I'm next.

Eve reaches down to help me, but I shake my head. The last thing I want is to pull her off.

My upper body is stronger than Eve's, but she weighs less than me. That's why she made it up with no issues, because her arms and torso could lift her own body weight. I'll see if I can do the same.

I lunge up for the horizontal railing, skipping the diagonal one that gave Eve trouble. I'm taller than her and have a longer reach. My fingers wrap around the railing and as I pull myself up, my extra body weight snaps the corroded rail in two. I fall, but Eve snags my wrist. My other hand snatches the diagonal rail.

With her help, I extend up and over to another straight piece of metal and lift myself to safety. As my foot leaves the log, the hollow tree races out from underneath me and launches over the edge of the waterfall and disappears into the misty darkness.

The sight before me is surreal. Eve and I stand with our stomachs to the rusted railing—the remains of the bridge sheared off halfway across the river—poking at the black humid air like jagged metal fingers. Our feet rest on the bottom beam of what used to be the main support truss. The roadway itself had long since washed away, leaving behind the remnants of the metal structure. Several feet beneath us, the water foams with the same ferocity as the rhino-bears, roaring ever faster as it spills over the fall.

As we inch to our right, still thirty feet from the riverbank, the beam creaks and bends under Eve's foot. She yelps and clutches the horizontal rail above her head with both hands. I see what she's doing. She's taking most of her weight off the weakened beam that's beneath her, but as she continues working her way over, the metal under my feet snaps in half and I drop. But I hold on to the higher rail, pulling myself up to the diagonal strut. For a few intense seconds, I hug the metal, my brain scrambling to come up with a solution to our dilemma.

Eve creeps across, using the same tactic as before, using her hands to lighten her weight on the beam. She creeps along; her face grimacing with anxiety.

"I need to jump to the other side," I say. "If I don't, the trusses might break."

"What?" Eve cranes her neck at me, her scarlet hair failing to ruffle in the crosswind, drenched and hanging in wavy strands. "You'll die."

"We both might if I don't."

A bent section from the other side of the bridge stretches toward me, spanning halfway across to me. Knowing what I must do, I plant my foot at the bottom of the V-joint where the diagonal strut meets a support on the network of trusses. I have to judge the distance and the amount of pressure I'll need to clear the gap and make it to the bent strut.

"Please be careful," Eve says.

I glare back at her. "Why? Because you care about me?"

"No." She keeps a straight face. "Because if you die, I'll be alone."

A chuckle dies inside of me and my eyes burn from her stinging reply, but I turn away and swallow the hard lump in my throat. I take several deep breaths and hesitate, waiting for my mind to rationalize what I'm about to do. It doesn't help, so I just leap across the expanse, fly over the rapids, and smash down onto the wide strut.

Eve cries out as I dead-center the bent metal.

I cling to the support as it springs up and down from the impact. Eve yelps. I hang there, catching my breath and shaky nerves, but also allowing myself a grin because I sense deep down she cares about me. Maybe?

Cautiously, I scoot up the long chunk of metal, hugging my chest to the flaky rusted surface and sliding my lower body further along. The strut jostles up and down, and then left and right as I crawl up its length, groaning every inch of the way.

"Be careful." The words blurt out of Eve's mouth, edged with tension and fear.

"I am." I keep scraping forward, closer to the other side.

The river rumbles beneath me, cascading over the edge with the raw power of nature.

I'm three feet from the other side, the trusses a hop away, but I'm not in a position to jump. As the strut moans under me, I question my decision to attempt such a feat. But so far, the beam on the opposite side under Eve hasn't given way, which leads me to believe my choice was a wise one.

Catching my breath, with sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down my brow, I push up to a seated position and exhale. My wet clothes cling to my body, making my movements strained. Somehow, I have to stand up without falling, and then make the terrifying jump. Again, I second guess myself. This idea was stupid, but I've gone too far to turn back now.

I bring a foot up, and my body sways to the side. No, that won't work. Then I change tactics. I lean forward, stretching out as far as I can. With my stomach on the strut, I raise my legs, one at a time, carefully, until both knees rest on the flat surface. The width is so narrow, my knees knock against each other as my nerves tremble throughout my body. Next, my hands find a solid place to push up on my elbows. I teeter for balance as Eve provides instructions on how not to fall mixed with whimpers of concern.

Yeah, she cares for me somewhat, but it's a small consolation prize if I plunge to my death.

I have to do this quickly, or risk losing my footing.

My plan is a three second terrifying, heart-thumping game of chance.

One, two, three! Without thinking, I push up to stand on the narrow strut and lurch-jump forward with my arms outstretched. I slam against a vertical truss, my shoulder crashing into the metal and corkscrewing with my arm hooking around it. Eve screams as my momentum carries me forward, my body swinging out over the river, peering out at the falls, then I whip around and smash against the side of the bridge.

The strut I leaped from breaks free and splashes into the water, and in a flash, careens over the waterfall.

I cling to the vertical truss, my breath having left me and plummeted over the edge, my heart pounding like a drum.

My eyes close as I reign in my breathing and try to slow my pulse.

When I look at Eve, she gazes across at me. "That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Why would you do such a thing?"

"To save you." I take one more calming breath. "And me. If I'd stayed on your side, we both might have broken the steel beam and gone ka-plunk."

Eve nods, understanding setting in. "Well, let's get a move on. The quicker we get to the bank, the quicker we can breathe easier."

We scamper toward dry ground, the same side the rhino-bear was on. Eve reaches the bank first, and then seconds later, the bolts in the railing on my side snap free and the entire side swings out over the falls as if on a set of fragile hinges. It slams against an invisible stop, screeching to a halt several feet from the bank.

My back is to Eve as she rustles along the bank over to me, over an arm's length away from helping me. While clutching the railing, I glimpse the sheer drop-off of the waterfall—at least a hundred feet down to a rumbling pool of water—glistening under the moonlight.

Beyond the pool, the river continues its procession into the night.

Once again, I consider how I'm going to leap from the dangling railing all the way to the riverbank. But this time, the thoughts barely form in my mind before the hinges lurch down under my weight and I lose my balance, my grip slipping as I fall backwards, plunging out over the waiting river below. Eve screams but her voice fades as the sound of wind and water rush around me and draws me into its dark and deadly embrace.