Below, the log tilted nearly vertical as the current strengthened. The dog stood alone now, soaked and trembling, staring upward. “Going back down,” Logan said without waiting for permission. Grant steadied the aircraft with visible strain. “Make it fast.” Logan descended again just as the timber lurched violently.
“Come on, buddy,” he urged softly. The dog hesitated only long enough to glance at the empty space where the boy had been. Then it leaped into Logan’s arms, claws digging into his sleeve as the log flipped and disappeared beneath the floodwater seconds later.
They rose together, leaving nothing behind but turbulence.
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