THIRTY-EIGHT: “Goodbye Father, Farewell Friend”
Cameron took the rope we’d pulled Danny and Isaac in with and attached it to our last harpoon. He fired it north towards Dad, and Dad anchored it to their truck. We inflated the raft from the back of Cameron’s truck, untied the rope attached to our two trucks and strung it through the carrying loops on the raft’s front and rear. After reattaching the rope to Cameron’s truck, we began loading the raft up with gear from our trucks, Blake climbed in and used the rope to pull himself across the water between our trucks and Dad’s.
Cameron released the boat and the current brought it back down the rope to us. Sam went across with the next load. Kate went next with more gear. Jenna crossed with Hayley, who had warmed up but was still shivering and considerably weak, and then Cameron came back to help get Isaac over. We wrapped him in blankets and took our time with him, avoiding as many jolts as possible, but there was only so much we could do in the turbulent rapids. We were certain he had a concussion and could be bleeding internally. Jenna hoped there would be somewhere in Estes Park she could treat him, and soon.
The next task was the hard part for Danny and me. We had to get rid of the trucks. If we left them here, it would give any soldiers who happened along ample reason to think we’d made it past here to Estes Park, and we couldn’t have that. We detached the rope from one of the trucks, popped it into neutral, and shoved it into the water. The river devoured it, sweeping it away. We then pushed Danny’s truck in and, after watching it too disappear downstream, climbed into the raft and pulled ourselves to the others.
Blake helped Danny out of the raft and gave him a hug. Tara was there to greet me. She took my hand and led me to the truck, where Emily took my other hand and wrapped her arm around my leg. Tara squeezed me as tightly as I could ever remember being hugged. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either, but the hug said a lot. We were going to be all right.
The rain continued to fall, the river continued to rise, and we were down to one last truck. It was eight miles to Estes Park, and there were thirteen of us. We built a makeshift tarp and branch shelter in the trees and provided as much cover and heat for Isaac as possible. We didn’t want to move him to Estes Park until we knew for sure it was safe. It wasn’t a great idea to leave him outside either, but right now it was the lesser of two terrible options. Jenna insisted Hayley and Sam stay in the truck to keep warm, so they huddled in the backseat with Grandma Ollie. Danny had changed into warm dry clothes, and wanted me to drive him and Cameron into town, to hopefully find additional transportation. The six of us would go on ahead while the rest remained hidden here. Hopefully we wouldn’t be gone long.
Cameron handed Blake his R11. “You know how to use this?”
“I think I can manage,” said the young man who continued to impress us with his composure and dependability.
About two miles up the road we passed a burnt-down cabin, answering our question as to whether the enemy had been through here. Of course they had. But outside the cabin sat two rain-washed black trucks. A Toyota Tundra, presumably three or four years old, and a Ford F2X, the latest in their F-150 line. That one couldn’t have been more than a few months old. Both six-seaters. We knew if we could find the keys, we were set. We sifted through the ashes by the door and found one set of keys on a hook of some sort. That set contained a key for the front door that was now not a door (there was a joke here somewhere), another random key, and the key for the Tundra. We searched for another set, and when I found the charred remains of a body under a box-spring mattress, I found the other keys. I admit I wasn’t altogether comfortable with taking their trucks, but they were never going to use them again. It made enough sense.
We drove back to the others and loaded up our gear. There were several more areas between Drake and Estes Park under water, but most of them had a place we could drive around or were shallow and calm enough for us to drive through. Lake Estes was well over its banks, and the entire entry to town was flooded. It took a few times getting stuck in some mud, and other off-roading obstructions, before we finally found a small road that led us up onto a former driveway and around the back of the lake. We were fortunate they’d rebuilt these roads within the past decade because when they’d done so they’d not only fortified them, but also raised them. No way we’d have made it otherwise.
The area was a mess and was only going to get worse as the rainfall continued. The dam in Lake Estes was built to hold a lot of pressure, but without anyone monitoring it and adjusting the water levels, there was no way it would hold through the night. When the dam gave out, the water would completely wash out both eastern entries into Estes Park. There was still one southern road into Estes Park from Denver, by the Twin Sisters peaks, but we planned to eliminate that option tomorrow. Given Isaac’s injuries and inability to travel, we had mutually agreed to set up camp here for the winter. As soon as the first significant snow came, the other two roads over the mountains would be closed until April. The only other way in would be through the air, and the wintry conditions would make even that a gamble. We were grateful we’d at least made it here, somewhere we knew quite well, and we were all well aware of how close we’d come to not making it at all. Now we just needed a place to stay.
Between my Dad, Danny, Cameron, and me we had nearly three decades of experience hiking the mountains and trails around here. We knew every lake, every waterfall, every peak, and every large cave in the area. For tonight, we were going to try to find an abandoned cabin, heat it somehow, cook dinner, eat, talk about the week’s events, sleep, and take care of Sam, Isaac, and Hayley.
We found an intact home in the hills above the old YMCA camp, and everyone cleaned up, dried off, and ate. Danny and Cameron gave us all the details on their encounter with Eddie and his men. It wasn’t lost on anyone that Danny’s questionable decision in Wyoming seemed to have a remarkably positive effect on the captain. Even if he was still planning to kill us later. For now, he’d saved Hayley, and it was hard for me not to appreciate him at least a little for that.
Danny didn’t say so, but I could tell he was relieved. He’d saved a lot of people today. The rest of us had been kind of hard on him yesterday, and now we weren’t about to let him forget the redeeming value of his decisions. Emily spent several hours “taking care” of Hayley—an amusing reversal—and I learned a great deal about Tara in a lengthy casual chat. Passionate “New Kids on the Block” fan. She didn’t bring Sophie up, and I wasn’t asked to spill my life story. It was great. We sat close to each other, laughed, teased each other, and even touched from time to time. We were beginning our relationship as friends. If that progressed, as we both seemed to think it could, the time for deeper conversations would come.
Before we all wrapped up the night with what we needed most—sleep—we spent some personal time with Sam and Isaac and held a brief open-forum, prayer memorial for Wes and Nathan. Everyone had a lot to say about a lot of different things, but in the end we wrapped our arms around each other and looked to Sam as he read the words to one of his dad’s favorite songs, “Be Still” by The Fray. I bowed my head and closed my eyes. Sam’s voice broke before he could finish, but Isaac whispered the rest for him. There was a long pause when they finished, as the words sank in, and then I heard myself say “Amen,” and a half dozen other voices echoed it. Dad closed in prayer and together we bid thank you and goodbye to a wonderful father and lost friend.