“Why did you come over this way?”

Stripping off my jacket, I wrapped it around her before stepping toward the opening where I was able to stand up straight. I thought about the quad sheets on the wall at our substation in Powder Junction, the ones that told me where the major washes were in this part of my county.

I waited a moment before answering. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The mouth of the overhang lit like a flashbulb, and she sat up a little in reaction, clutching my wet coat around her as the thunder followed. “What’s the matter?”

“I think this canyon is a wash.”

She struggled up a little more. “Meaning?”

“We’re likely to have a couple of millions of gallons of water come rushing through before long.” I shook my head. “That water’s been coming down on the mountains for hours, along with what’s been dumped out here.”

She glanced around. “Can’t we just stay in this shelter?”

We were surrounded on three sides, and I started making some quick calculations. “No. If it comes, it’s going to scour this canyon like a toilet flushing.” I cocked an ear, but there was no way I was going to hear the water until it was too late. “We’ve got to get to higher ground.”

I moved to the back of the cave and tried to get her onto her feet, but it was difficult. She bit her lip to the point that I started thinking she was going to take a hunk out of it.

“Damn it.”

I wrapped my arm around her back and under her far arm. “How bad?”

“Not bad enough to stay in here and fucking drown.” I limped her forward and looked at Dog, who had started growling. Vic looked at me as I stared at him. “That can’t be good.”

“No.” I reached down and pulled his ear in an attempt to get his attention. “Hey, you need to get out of here, too, do you hear me?” He continued to grumble. “Listen to me: when we go out of here, I want you to just climb up the hill and get away. Don’t worry about us, but I can’t carry the both of you, all right?”

He continued to look out into the cascading water, the low-pitched noise still rumbling from his chest.

Vic brought her face forward. “I know you think he understands everything you say, but short of a honey-baked ham, I think your best bet is to get us out of here and he’ll follow.”

“You’re probably right.” I took a step forward but was frozen by what I saw in a flash of lightning; the impromptu river was only a few feet below the lip of the overhang’s floor.

Vic followed my eyes as the thunder echoed off the rock walls. “Oh, shit.”

Realizing we had only minutes, I turned right and then left, trying to spot a way out, but the rock was solid at the sides. My eyes went to the overhanging ledge, and I came up with a desperate idea. “I’m putting you over the top.”

“What?”

“I’ll lift you up, and you can climb without putting weight on that ankle, and then I’ll either take Dog with me or lift him up to you.”

She looked doubtful. “He must weigh a hundred and fifty pounds.”

I nodded. “That’s all right; I’ll lift and he’ll scramble so both of you will get out.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I can climb my way around the side and scramble up—I just can’t do it carrying both of you.”

As much as she hated it, she knew I was right. She hopped forward on the one good leg and turned to look at me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I laced my fingers together, providing a stirrup from which I could lift her easily. “Which question?”

She rested her hands on my shoulders. “Why did you come this way?”

I raised my face to look at her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You saw him again, didn’t you?” The tarnished gold eyes bore into mine, and I could tell for maybe once in my life that she wasn’t joking. “Danny Lone Elk—you saw him again.”

I stood there with my laced fingers and stooped shoulders, staring at her and finally nodding. “I did.”

She said the next words carefully. “I saw him, too.”

I thought I might’ve misunderstood her. “What?”

“Danny Lone Elk, dressed exactly like he was when we fished him out of the Turtle Pond. He was standing on the ridge and I saw him. That’s why I fell—I couldn’t believe it and wasn’t watching where I was going and slipped off the ledge.”

I shook my head. “I think you’re hanging out with me too much. C’mon!”

She slipped the distressed limb into my cupped hands but then thought again and used her left. “I’m thinking I’ll get better purchase if I try with my good ankle.”

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

She stepped up, and I lifted her skyward into the falling rain as she traced her hands across the top in an attempt to find something to hold on to. A few pieces of rock scaled from above, and I kept my face down, trying to limit the damage.

“I can’t get any leverage!”

I pushed her up further, but it seemed as if I was still holding all of her weight. I stood there, trying not to move, but I knew there was a limit to how long I could hold her.

Dog stayed at my side, but his attention was still directed up, almost as if there was something he was focused on; I just hoped it wasn’t the floodwaters preparing to wash us away any second.

There was another flash, and as I looked past Vic’s legs, an image burned into my retinas—the black silhouette of a large Indian standing on the ledge across the canyon, his dark, wet hair covering his face as he breathed with an incredible effort, his shoulders drawing back and then collapsing with each breath.

I blinked, but whether it was from the blinding effects of the lightning or the inky darkness of the storm, I couldn’t see anything. “Vic?”

Her legs moved a little, but I could feel her slipping as the thunder shook the ground. I had to make sure I pulled her in if she started to go backward into the rushing water, which was now lapping at my feet.

Dog’s barking grew to a frenzy as I stood there like a sitting and likely drowned duck. I stared into the darkness and laughed, wanting to scream at the ghost of Danny Lone Elk to help us.

There was another extended zigzag of lightning that ran the ridge overhead, and I could see that there was no one standing in the spot where I’d seen something before.

Nothing.

I was about to drop my head and concentrate on the task at hand when, in the very last bit of illumination, I saw him leap from the far ledge and seemingly float across the canyon like a mountain lion, finally disappearing overhead as rocks slid down onto us.

Unbelievable.

Dog was going crazy as the thunder provided a counterpoint to the impossible, when suddenly Vic’s weight vanished, and I was standing there with nothing in my arms. Whatever it was, it had taken her.

There was another blink of lightning, and a powerful hand, caked with mud and blood, thrust down from the ledge almost as if from a grave in the sky. It was as large as my own, broad and muscled, and was flexing as if to indicate that I better hand something else up and right soon.

Without pause, I grabbed Dog and lifted him. The hand grabbed his collar while the other buried its powerful fingers into the thick fur of the animal’s back, and he too vanished with a yelp.

A few more rocks slid from above, and I looked down to see a rush of water flowing against my legs and figured I’d better try my luck with the rocks to either side. I had just waded to my left when the hand appeared again.

I laughed. It was one thing to lift a hundred-and-thirty-pound woman, and even another to lift a hundred-and-fifty-pound dog, but I was something altogether different. The hand flexed, and I figured what the hell—if the ghost of Danny Lone Elk thought he was strong enough to reach out from the Camp of the Dead and save me from a watery grave, then who was I to argue?

Throwing a hand up, I felt the powerful fingers clasp mine like cables and, unbelievably, felt my feet leave the ground as if I were being hoisted by the sky crane of a Sikorsky helicopter.