Read Online Storm Rescue by Laurie Halse Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

spreading branches are way over my head, shading Mrs. Clark’s front yard and the roof of her house. But now that we’re eight feet higher than usual, thanks to the flood, I see that several large branches stretch out in every direction, blocking our path to the front of the house.
    â€œAre you sure we can’t get the canoe through there?” I scan the water between us and the house, praying for an opening to appear.
    David shakes his head. “Believe me, we tried.” He sticks his paddle in the water, steering us a little closer to the largest branch, which is about fifteen feet from the attic window. “And we can’t go around to the other side of the house. There are more trees in the backyard, so we’ll have the same problem.”
    â€œBut don’t worry. This branch isn’t that far from the house, see?” Maggie says, reaching over the side of the canoe and grabbing the large, sturdy branch, helping David pull us alongside. “All you have to do is climb out onto the branch and jump into the water on the other side.”
    I feel my whole body go numb again. Now what? I can’t keep my secret from them any longer.
    â€œWell, there’s just one problem.” I gulp, not daring to meet their eyes. “I—I can’t swim.”

Chapter Eleven
    W hat?” Maggie stares at me in disbelief.
    David blinks. “Wait a minute,” he says, shaking his head. “You can’t swim? Since when?”
    â€œSince always.” I can tell my face is bright red, but I continue. “I’ve always been afraid of the water. I dropped out of beginner swimming lessons at the YMCA.”
    â€œWow,” Maggie says. “Now what are we going to do?”
    David chews on his lower lip. “I could swim over,” he offers. “Maybe—”
    â€œForget it,” Maggie cuts him off. “If Lucy wouldn’t come to me, she won’t come to you, either. This is hopeless. We should get help. Gran will know what to do.”
    Glancing at the house, I almost agree with her. It would be so much easier to give up and wait for help. Brenna is probably on her way back with reinforcements right now.
    Then Lucy meows again. She tips forward a little, sliding her front feet toward the water lapping below the window, as if she’s thinking about jumping. She wobbles on her splinted foreleg. I suck in my breath, sure that she’s going to fall in.
    She catches herself just in time and backs up, letting out another desperate meow. I gulp, trying to swallow my terror. “I’ll go,” I blurt before I lose my nerve. “I mean, I’m wearing a life vest. Even if I don’t know how to swim, I should be able to paddle over there and get her.”
    Maggie looks uncertain. “Are you sure?”
    â€œIt’s the only way.” I try to sound confident. It’s not easy, since my insides feel like they’ve all suddenly turned to Jell-O.
    I kick off my shoes. David grabs the rope that’s coiled up in the front part of the boat. One end is tied to a ring at the front of the canoe. “We can tie this to your vest,” David suggests. “That way we can make sure you don’t get carried away by the current.”
    â€œMaybe we can even help you steer a little,” Maggie adds.
    I nod and scoot around on the narrow canoe seat so that they can tie the rope to the back of my vest. David crouches behind me. I can’t see what he’s doing, but after a moment, I feel a tug on the life vest.
    â€œThere,” he says. “That should do it.”
    â€œReady?” Maggie asks.
    I nod. I don’t trust my voice to speak. Taking a deep breath, I clutch the edge of the boat with both hands and stare down at the water. Can I do this?
    I have to do this. I don’t let myself think about it anymore, and I climb out of the canoe onto the large branch. It feels solid and comforting under my feet. Then I