The rescue team found Gruff and Brute shortly after sunrise.

Not because the flashlight continued working.

It had died completely before dawn.

Not because Gruff devised another perfect plan.

He had run out of plans an hour earlier.

They were found because Tasha had seen the signal before the storm swallowed it.

She and Mr. Alvarez had been pulled from the damaged roof by a shallow-water rescue boat shortly before the structure broke apart. When the boat crew attempted to return toward the emergency staging area, Tasha refused to stop searching the flooded blocks.

"There were two more men," she told them. "One has a beard and complains professionally. The other carries enough emergency equipment to supply a small government."

Mr. Alvarez had pointed into the dark.

"They saved us. We turn back."

The crew turned back.

For hours, debris and current prevented them from reaching the place where Tasha had last seen the answering light. At dawn, the wind dropped enough for a second boat to join them.

Then one rescuer saw silver moving between the trees.

Gruff had tied the emergency blanket to the broken fence board. The makeshift flag barely rose two feet above the water, but morning light caught it.

The boats approached slowly.

By then, Gruff and Brute's floating panel had lodged against the branches of a submerged oak. Both men lay almost motionless, wrapped together with the rope and each other's arms.

A rescuer shouted.

Brute lifted his head.

His beard had dried into several directions at once.

"Are you real?" he called.

"Rescue team!"

Brute looked at Gruff.

"They say they are real."

Gruff opened one eye. "Ask for identification."

The rescuer laughed with relief.

"Sir, we need you to remain still. We are sending a line."

Brute raised one hand weakly. "He will remain still only under anesthesia."

The first throw landed short.

The second line reached the panel.

Gruff caught it and clipped it through Brute's vest.

Brute looked down.

"No."

"You first."

"Absolutely not."

"Ken."

"Do not Ken me. You are colder."

"Your shoulder's bleeding."

"Your entire face is becoming a bruise."

The rescuer shouted, "We can take one at a time. Who is coming first?"

Both men pointed at the other.

The rescuer sighed. "Which one of you is less stubborn?"

Tasha leaned over the side of the second boat.

"Neither! Take the loud one first."

Brute looked offended. "Tasha, I believed we had formed a bond."

"We did. That is why I know you will argue until the raft sinks."

Gruff unclipped the rope between them and secured Brute to the rescue line.

Brute grabbed the front of Gruff's vest.

"I am not leaving you."

"You're goin' twenty feet."

"Emotionally, it is farther."

Gruff placed both hands around Brute's face.

"Look at me."

Brute did.

"Go."

"You follow."

"Promise."

"Real promise?"

"Real."

Brute kissed him once, directly and without checking who watched.

Tasha's eyebrows rose.

The rescue crew pulled Brute through the water toward the boat.

Without his weight, the roof panel rose several inches. Gruff remained wrapped around the edge, watching until Brute was lifted aboard.

Brute immediately turned back.

"Now him."

The rescuer reached for another line.

The branch holding Gruff's panel broke.

The current caught him.

Brute shouted his name.

The panel spun away from the boat.

Gruff held on with one arm and reached for the thrown line with the other. It struck the water beside him.

He missed.

"Again!" Tasha shouted.

The boat operator fought the current.

The second throw landed across Gruff's shoulder.

He caught it.

His numb fingers failed to close.

Brute climbed halfway over the side of the boat.

Three rescuers grabbed his vest.

"Do not jump!"

"Then pull him!"

Gruff trapped the line beneath his forearm and clipped it through the carabiner at his chest.

The panel rolled.

Water closed over his head.

The line went tight.

The rescuers hauled.

Gruff surfaced behind the boat, coughing and trying to help despite possessing no useful leverage.

Brute reached over the side.

"Give me your hand!"

Gruff extended it.

Their fingers missed once.

Then Brute caught his wrist.

"I got you," Brute said. "I got you. I got you."

The crew pulled Gruff aboard.

He landed across Brute's lap with enough force to knock the breath from both of them.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then Gruff lifted his head.

"Twenty feet," he said.

Brute stared at him.

"I crossed an ocean emotionally."

Gruff smiled and collapsed against his chest.