2020: Emergency Exit (22 page)

As we walked towards the rock bridge Danny told us Wes was gone. Hayley said he’d been swept out the door with her and never seen again. We were stunned—devastated—and walked the rest of the way to the crossing in silence.
Unbelievable.

Across from us, Dad tied their two packs of rope together, and Tara used her roping skills from the farm to form a big lasso on one end. She flung the rope out into the river, upstream from the intended crossing point. After several attempts, she managed to get the lasso far enough out in the river so Danny could hook it with a long branch. He pulled the rope up on our side and secured it to our two packs. He then scaled the canyon wall behind us to tie the rope to a tree. Danny instructed his grandfather to fasten the other end to the base of a tree on their side. I watched Danny put on the fluorescent orange life jacket and take the large carabiner off his belt. He clipped it to the rope. Grabbing onto the carabiner with both hands, he invested all his faith in their knots and slowly zip-lined from our side of the river to the other.
Clever. Insane…but clever.

When Danny landed safely, Cameron untied the rope on our end, and Danny pulled it all across to the other side. Danny hauled all sixty pounds, two hundred-fifty yards, of rope up the other side. He stopped at Grandpa’s truck long enough to grab the harpoon gun he’d picked up in Fort Collins. I saw him say something to Dad and Tara and saw Tara cover her mouth.
Must have told them about Wes.
He slung the gun over his shoulder and tied an end of the rope to his belt. I watched as he walked briskly north to a trestle of a bridge on the Big Thompson River, now mostly underwater. Danny shimmied his way across the trestle and then lunged through the last twenty feet of water to the other side of the river canyon to our left.

As Danny climbed up the canyon wall, he gradually disappeared into the forest. He reemerged five minutes later, about thirty yards directly above Wes’s truck in the water. He fastened one end of the rope to the harpoon and fired it across the canyon towards us, but just over our heads. The harpoon struck the wall of dirt behind us, but didn’t stick, and Cameron tackled the rope before it went back into the river. After Danny had secured it to several trees on his side, above the river canyon, we secured our end of the rope to the two trucks. We then pulled the vehicles a little further away to make the rope as taut as possible.

Danny chopped off the fifty or so excess yards of rope on his end. I watched through binoculars, as he appeared to yell something down at the truck, nodded, flashed a thumbs-up, and then quickly began tying knots in the rope every several feet.
What was he doing?
I’d counted on him creating another makeshift zip-line, after seeing how effective the first one was, but that didn’t seem to be what he had in mind now.
Or did he?
Having completed the knots, he was now tying each end of the short rope to a carabiner. He clicked one carabiner onto the rope just above his head. He then took off his life jacket and attached it to the carabiner on the other end, lowering it down to the truck in the water. We saw the first signs of life in the truck at that point, as an arm reached out and grabbed the life jacket, pulling it inside. Danny yelled something down towards the truck again, but I couldn’t read his lips and we couldn’t hear anything across the river’s roar. As the short rope tightened, it seemed someone below was anchoring it to the truck. Another thumbs-up from Danny suggested they had accomplished whatever he’d communicated. Next thing we knew, Danny was sliding down the short rope, using the knots he’d tied as footholds.
Brilliant
. He reached the base of the rope and stepped gently down on top of the truck and then slowly lowered himself inside it.

Sam came out first, a minute later. He didn’t have the life jacket on, but he did have the harpoon gun slung around his neck. He began slowly climbing up the short rope, pausing at each of the knots Danny had tied. We could tell it wasn’t an easy process for him, but he seemed to have just enough strength to hold on. The rope’s tightness definitely helped the climb. Eventually he neared the top and flashed a thumbs-up towards the truck. The rope suddenly cut loose from below and Sam began his zip-line descent towards us. We positioned ourselves to cushion his landing, and he arrived safely in our arms. He handed Cameron the harpoon gun before Blake and Kate rushed him off to Jenna. The rest of us turned our focus back to the river.

Apparently Danny had cut the bottom end of the rope away from the truck with a knife, because there was no longer a carabiner attached to it. Cameron attached the harpoon to that end of the knotted rope and detached the carabiner on the other end from the zip line. Cameron only had one shot at this, and admittedly it wasn’t his best one. As the harpoon sailed back over the water, it overshot his intended mark and stuck into the wall well above and behind the truck. The bottom of the rope dangled about eight feet from the top of the truck, well out of Danny’s reach.
Dang it!
Nothing we could do about it now though. Danny was going to have to make it work.

As the water level continued to rise, the truck’s stability worsened. It was twisting back and forth in the river surges now, barely held by the two boulders that initially had secured it.

Blake had rejoined Cameron and me. “Isaac’s in terrible shape,” he said. “Sam thinks he has several broken ribs, and his face is all cut up from smashing a window with his head. He was conscious but couldn’t hold himself up. He would’ve drowned without Sam keeping his head out of the water.”

That was much worse news than we were hoping for. Danny wouldn’t be able to hold Isaac up and try to reach the rope. I had no clue how he was going to do this.

Danny lifted Isaac out of the truck and onto the roof of the cab. The frigid river had surely numbed him to an extent, but even its ferocious roar couldn’t blot out his screams. I continued to watch them through the binoculars and then saw Danny gesturing wildly at us. His lips were easy to read this time. “What the hell?” He was pointing up at the rope now.

“What’s he saying?” Cameron asked me.

“What the hell,” I replied.

“What?” Cameron repeated.

“That’s what he yelled,” I answered. “What the hell?”

It was at that moment Cameron figured out what was wrong. I heard him mutter, “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” I asked. He explained he was supposed to keep the carabiner end of the knotted rope attached to the zip line when he fired the harpoon back. The knotted rope was useless now. Even if Danny could reach it, the rope wasn’t attached to the zip-line. They’d have no way to get across to our side.

“Son of a bitch,” I heard Cameron say again.

I watched helplessly as Danny looked up at the rope hanging above him, back down at Isaac, and then up at the rope again. He had to be trying to figure out what to do. Cameron was watching him through the scope of his rifle now. “Shit,” he muttered. I suddenly was aware of someone’s hand in my own, and looked away from the binoculars to see Kate standing beside me, her eyes locked on Danny. I squeezed her hand and whispered, “He can do this.”

“I know,” she replied, her rapid assurance giving me even more hope.

But what the heck was he going to do?

The water level continued to inch up, and the truck was surely going to break away from the rocks at any minute. Danny knelt down and put his head by Isaac’s, presumably telling him something. He then maneuvered Isaac into the life jacket. Danny stood back up and pointed at us, holding his hand up in the shape of a gun. He pointed it up towards the trees above the canyon and mimicked shooting it.

“He’s telling you to shoot something,” I said, realizing I was stating the obvious.

“The rope,” Cameron replied. “He wants me to shoot the rope.”

I looked at Cameron.
Seriously?

Blake had joined us and I heard him say, “Just a second.” He ran towards one of the trucks and fired it up. I watched him back it up a few feet, causing the zip line to sag.

“Blake, what the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

Cameron lowered his rifle and gave Danny a thumbs-up. “He’s easing the tension so that when I shoot the rope it will drop closer to Danny,” Cameron explained calmly as Danny motioned for him to hurry up.
Ah. Of course
. Cameron took aim at the knot Danny had tied to the trees above the canyon. He took a breath and slowly released it as he squeezed the trigger. The first shot missed, hinting at his nerves. “Damn it,” he mumbled. His second shot hit its mark though, splintering the rope.

As the rope snapped away from the tree and fell towards the river, it was immediately clear that it still wasn’t going to land anywhere near the truck. Danny glanced down at the river and stepped to the edge of the cab roof. He shoved Isaac off the roof of the car and leapt for open water, as the rope continued to fall.

The rope landed a good ten yards ahead of Danny, and he paddled feverishly towards it. The current aided his strokes, and he reached it quickly. Blake had gotten out of the truck and yelled for us to help him. As we ran towards Blake, Danny searched the water for Isaac. He wasn’t hard to find, coming directly at him. Blake told us to grab ahold of the rope, but not to pull yet. We watched as Danny grabbed Isaac and then Blake screamed, “Now!” We began pulling Danny and Isaac towards our side of the river. Kate ran down to meet them, and as soon as Danny was able to stand and step out of the water the other three of us ran to help with Isaac.

Cameron and Blake carried Isaac back towards the trucks while Kate and I helped Danny. Isaac was barely conscious. Danny was freezing cold and completely exhausted, but otherwise unhurt. “Good thinking loosening that rope,” he chattered.

I nodded. “That was all Blake.”
I’ve got to remember to thank him
.

“Pretty sharp,” Danny added. He wrapped Kate in a long wet hug. “Remind me not to do that again,” he said. I laughed and patted him on the shoulder.
Crazy amazing!

Yes, we definitely should have lost more people that morning, any number of ways, but thanks to Danny, some resourceful Boy Scout basics, a surprise reaction by Captain Eddie, and some convenient Special Ops training, we limited the number of casualties to one. A significant one, but just one…and it could have been so much worse. Gratitude and sorrow filled us all, although I couldn’t properly speak for Isaac or Sam. Wes would be happy wherever he was, knowing his boys were safe. I would treat his sons as my own. “I’ve got them,” I whispered.
You’re in a better place, my friend. But we’ll miss you.

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.