'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel)

by Sharon Sala

  She whined as Linc touched her ribs, and with Marlow’s floodlight aimed their way, he saw blood coming out of one ear. Her crippled paw was a raw, bloody mess. But it was the look in her eyes that broke his heart.

  “Brave girl,” he said softly. “Brave, tough little girl. You’ve done enough for one night. You caught the bad guy. You took him down like the giant you are, and now help is on the way and we’re gonna find Meg. That’s a promise. We are gonna find our Meg.”

  Within minutes Linc could hear Quinn and Mariah coming. Their dog yipped once, alerting on their presence. Linc’s stomach knotted. The snow was coming down a little heavier now. Time was crucial. Everything hinged on Moses being able to find Meg before it was too late.

  “Here! We’re here!” Marlow yelled, and then stood up, waving the floodlight down the path.

  Seconds later Mariah’s dog loped into view, followed by Mariah and Quinn. Linc stood up with Honey still in his arms. She lay limply against his chest.

  And that was Mariah’s first view of the man who loved Quinn’s sister—a bloody giant with tears on his cheeks, holding an even bloodier pup. Moses smelled the other dog and went straight toward her. Mariah followed.

  “Is she hurt bad?” Mariah asked.

  “I can’t tell. White was beating her when I arrived, but she had her teeth in him and wouldn’t let go. Her crippled paw is a mess. I have no idea how serious her other injuries are, but she took White down on her own.”

  Quinn was stone-faced and edgy as he approached. He was in full search mode, with a backpack and a huge length of climbing rope thrown over his shoulder.

  “Damn, but I hate the dark.”

  Mariah gave his arm a quick squeeze. It was a leftover fear from when they’d been trapped in a mine cave-in. He was living with it but far from over it.

  Quinn saw Prince White lying handcuffed against a tree, and then eyed Marlow and Linc.

  “We let down our guard when we thought he was dead...just like he expected. And when she was the most vulnerable, he struck. Linc, you called it when you asked if the body had been found. We should have been more cautious, just in case.”

  “What’s done is done. We can’t take it back,” Linc said, then turned back to Mariah. “So how does this work? How will your dog know to hunt for Meg?”

  “I have a shirt that belongs to her,” Mariah said. “Are you ready?”

  “Waiting here was the longest ten minutes of my life. I’ll be right behind you.” He handed Honey to Marlow. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

  Quinn paused. “Sheriff, Jake Doolen and his boys are about five minutes behind me. He said there’s a squad of searchers coming up on ATVs. He can hear them coming.”

  “Those will be my men,” Marlow said as he patted Honey’s head, then turned to Linc. “I’ll make sure we get her to a vet ASAP.”

  “Thanks,” Linc said.

  Mariah held the shirt under Moses’s nose. “Hunt, Moses, hunt.”

  The dog leaped forward, straining against the leash, and Mariah started forward at a jog, with Quinn and Lincoln right behind her.

  “Will the snow affect Moses’s ability to track?” Linc asked.

  “Yes, if too much falls.”

  “Well, hell,” Linc muttered. “Can we go faster?”

  “I can turn Moses loose,” Mariah said. “But the danger is in losing track of him in the dark.”

  “I followed Honey halfway up the mountain in the dark. If your dog barks like she did, we can follow.”

  Mariah knew time was not on their side and didn’t hesitate. “Moses. Stop!”

  The big hound stopped immediately. Mariah reached down and unclipped the lease from his collar.

  “Moses. Hunt.”

  The dog took off in a lope. Linc jumped out ahead of the others. With his long legs and steady stride, aiming the flashlight down at the ground in front of him, he slowly but surely began to outdistance the others.

  Up the mountain they went, running headlong into the dark while the snowflakes got heavier and the path was slowly obliterated.

  Five minutes passed, then ten. Moses continued to track, barking intermittently as he ran. Nearly fifteen minutes into the run Linc’s side was burning, his legs were shaking and he was as close to physical exhaustion as he’d ever been. It was frightening. He kept praying they would find Meg somewhere along the trail, but it didn’t happen.

  And then all of a sudden Moses veered off to the right.

  Linc called out, “He’s turning east!”

  “We see your light!” Quinn yelled back.

  Linc was in the thick of the forest, ducking branches and stumbling through underbrush, when all of a sudden Moses bayed. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Did this mean that the dog had found her?

  He swung the flashlight across the ground in front of him and caught a glimpse of the dog. Moses was sitting, looking back, as if waiting for everyone to catch up, but Meg was nowhere in sight

  Linc’s heart was hammering against his chest. He was afraid of what lay ahead in the dark, terrified it was something that couldn’t be fixed.

  He dashed forward, only to have Moses suddenly stand up and charge him, barking to keep him back. It didn’t make sense.

  He took the light and swept the ground again, and that was when it hit him. All he could see in front of him was dark and falling snow. No trees. No brush.

  No ground.

  “No. No, no, no,” he moaned, while a pain in his chest began to spread.

  Two more steps and he was standing beside the dog. He could hear Quinn and Mariah running up behind him, but he had to look. Even if the flashlight didn’t shine far enough down, he had to know if he was right.

  He swung the light down into the void and saw nothing but snowflakes spiraling into darkness.

  He dropped to his knees, defeated by an inevitability he couldn’t face, and threw back his head. The roar of pain that came up his throat echoed across the canyon.

  Mariah grabbed at Quinn’s hand, but he kept running, unwilling to accept the despair he heard in Linc’s voice.

  They saw Moses first, and then Linc on his knees. Quinn took one long step forward when Mariah suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

  “Stop! Don’t go any farther!” she screamed.

  Quinn spun. “Why the hell not?”

  “It’s a cliff. Linc’s on the edge of a cliff.”

  Quinn froze. “Meg fell off? God, no!”

  Mariah was crying as she slipped off her backpack.

  “Give me the big searchlight.”

  He slipped off his own backpack and dug out the light.

  Mariah grabbed it, crawled up behind Linc and hit the switch. A blast of light with a million candle-watt beam cut through the dark, past the falling snow and down to a ledge about forty feet below. She could see something red, and then the sole of a shoe beneath the snow cover, but it was enough to know that there was a body there.

  She grabbed Linc by the shoulder and shook him. “She’s on that ledge! She didn’t fall all the way! Look, Linc! See her foot? And her red scarf?”

  Linc grabbed the light out of her hands, then got down on his belly and scooted forward. As he angled the light down he saw the ledge, the boot and the flash of red. It was Meg. He scooted back and then jumped up.

  “Quinn! Meg’s on the ledge! How do we get her off?”

  Now the ball was in Quinn’s court. He tried to make a phone call, then pocketed the phone in frustration.

  “No signal,” he said. “We’ll have to wait for the search party to catch up.”

  “No!” Linc cried. “I waited long enough for you two to catch up. The snow is falling heavier, and the wind is rising. I’m not waiting again. If there’s a chance in hell that she’s alive, we need to get her off this mountain now.”

  “But—”

  Linc pointed to Quinn’s rope. “How long is that?”

  “Nearly two hundred feet of heavy-duty nylon.”

  Linc po
inted at Quinn’s backpack. “Do you have any climbing equipment in that thing?”

  Quinn took a step back. “Oh, hell no, you’re not climbing down the face of a cliff in a snowstorm.”

  Linc grabbed Quinn’s arm. “You don’t understand. My life isn’t worth much without her. I’d just as soon risk it doing this than stay safe and healthy and find out she died from exposure and injuries before we pulled her up. Look at me. I’m big, but I’m also damn strong, and I have rappelled down a cliff face before. It’s not that far, so tie the damn rope off or whatever you have to do, or I’ll do it myself.”

  Mariah stepped between them, her hand on Quinn’s chest.

  “Don’t deny him this,” she said. “Ryal said the same thing to me when I told him I was going in after you. I couldn’t have lived with myself without trying. It’s not your place to tell Linc he can’t try. This is his decision.”

  And just like that, the discussion was over.

  Linc quickly shed his coat as Quinn dug a chest harness out of his pack, then let it out as far as it would go. It fit Linc, but barely. After that the prep and hookup went quickly. Linc’s eagerness to get down there was tempered by his fear for Meg’s condition. He wouldn’t let himself believe God would save her from falling to the bottom only to let her die when she was within reach.

  As soon as his climbing gear was in place, they helped him put his coat back on and fasten it up. Quinn took off his sock cap and put it on Linc’s head, then handed him a pair of leather climbing gloves, slipped a handheld radio in one pocket and made sure he had his flashlight in the other.

  “We’ll belay you down. I’ve got another radio. We’ll be able to communicate once you’re there. Mariah...give him that blanket in your pack.”

  She ran toward her pack and dug out a blanket.

  Quinn tied it to Linc’s harness and then slapped his shoulder.

  “Godspeed, brother.”

  A look passed between them, and then Linc headed for the drop-off. He stopped at the rim and pulled hard a few times to test the rope, made sure Quinn was ready, adjusted his grip and then turned his back to the void.

  “All my contact info is at my place. Aunt Tildy will know what to do.”

  Before they could comment, he stepped off backward into space.

  “Lord have mercy,” Mariah muttered, and angled the spotlight downward. It was her job to keep it on the ledge where Meg had fallen, and she wasn’t going to fail in her duty. What Linc was doing was crazy, but she understood the need. Denying Linc the same chance she’d had would have been the height of hypocrisy.

  Quinn was feeding out the rope, but the pull from Lincoln’s weight was greater than he’d thought. When he finally heard Jake Doolen and his boys coming up, he called out, “We’re here. Hold the dogs back.”

  Moments later the others burst onto the scene. Moses was familiar with both Jake and his dogs, and wagged his tail in welcome as they tied their dogs off next to him.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Meg? Where’s Lincoln?” Jake asked.

  “She fell off the mountain. She’s on a ledge about forty feet below. Linc is rappelling down,” Quinn said. “Grab hold, boys. He’s damn heavy.”

  Jake was horrified. Their sweet Meg... If the law didn’t put Prince White in prison for life, he would be waiting for that SOB when he got out. He said a quick prayer for Linc and then headed toward Mariah, as Cyrus and Avery fell in behind Quinn to help belay the line.

  * * *

  The farther down Linc went, the stronger the wind became. There was a whirlpool effect going on in the space between where he was and the surrounding mountains, turning the falling snow into icy shards coming at him from every direction.

  He wasn’t thinking beyond his next step and the rope in his hands. It was the umbilical cord keeping him in this life and bringing him closer to Meg. His shoes were not meant for climbing, but they were holding up to the task. Only once did he slip and go crashing into the cliff.

  Up above, Mariah gasped.

  “What happened?” Quinn shouted.

  “He slipped, but he’s okay. He’s got it. He’s back on track!” she yelled.

  “You okay?” Jake asked. “If you need me to spell you, I can.”

  “I’m good,” she said.

  She wasn’t moving. Being able to see what was happening was the only way to keep from freaking out. The tension alone made the hair crawl on the back of her neck like it had when she was still on active duty and could almost feel the insurgents somewhere nearby.

  She and Jake watched the snowfall swirling below them like a white tornado, with updrafts and downdrafts continuing to buffet Lincoln’s body.

  “Good thing he’s got body mass on his side. He’s holding his own in that wind,” Jake said. “Have you seen Meg move?”

  “No.”

  Jake turned sideways to keep his face from taking the brunt of the icy snow. “We got any medical help on the way up?”

  “Marlow has a team on the way,” Mariah said.

  He nodded, his gaze fixed on the man at the other end of the rope.

  “God help them,” he said.

  Lincoln continued moving down. He checked his progress only when he needed to judge the distance left to go, and he wouldn’t look at Meg, too afraid of what he might see. When his foot finally touched firm foundation, his heart skipped a beat.

  He’d done it! He was down!

  He gave the rope two quick shakes to let them know he was there and then dropped to his knees. Still holding on to the rope, he was able to see the extent of the ledge they were on. It was bigger than it had looked from above—maybe twelve feet deep at its widest point.

  He crawled to where Meg was lying and brushed the snow from her face. His heart sank. It was like looking at a mannequin. She was pale and still, and the blood that had been running down from her hairline had frozen to her forehead.

  He yanked off a glove and pressed his hand to the side of her neck. Her skin was chilled, but the flesh was still supple, and he could feel the pulse in her throat. He looked up—straight into the spotlight Mariah was holding—and gave her a thumbs-up.

  Mariah screamed. “She’s alive! Linc said she’s alive!’

  Quinn tied off the rope, and then he and Jake’s sons rushed to the rim.

  Down on the ledge, Linc was praying to see even one small sign of consciousness from Meg. He had his flashlight trained on her, trying to check her condition through the spiraling snow. His size was something of a windbreak, but as fast as he pushed the snow off, it came back in a swirl of ice and wind. He was scared to move her for fear of causing permanent injury, and though he talked to her, he knew that it was nearly impossible for her to hear him in the maelstrom. He bent over, his mouth against her ear, hoping she could hear him above the wind’s mighty shriek.

  “Meg...Meggie, sweetheart, it’s me, Lincoln. Can you hear me? You had a fall. Can you tell me where you hurt?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He angled his flashlight toward her face, then tried to part her hair to see how deep the wound was, but her hair was so frozen it felt brittle. He began digging through her pockets, found a sock cap and carefully eased it on her head. A person lost a lot of body heat through the top of the head, and he needed to keep her as warm as possible until the rescuers arrived.

  He ran his hands along her body, feeling her arms and legs for signs of broken bones, then slid a hand beneath her coat to check for injuries. Feeling her smooth midriff and flat belly was a blessing in itself, although he had no way to tell if she was bleeding from within. After checking her as thoroughly as he dared, he pulled out the radio and keyed it on, yelling to be heard over the wind.

  “This is Lincoln. Over.”

  Quinn fired back. “Quinn here. What’s her status?”

  “Obvious head injury. Bleeding has stopped, probably because of the cold. No open fractures. Can’t tell about internal injuries, but I’d bet on cracked ribs from the way she hit. I can feel h
er breath. She’s not in distress, like she would be if a lung was punctured, but it’s too damn slow. She’s still unconscious. Have no way to tell where she hurts. I’m going to cover us up with the blanket and hope that warms her up. If I get her to wake up I’ll let you know. Over.”

  “Roger that,” Quinn said. “We’ll let you know when the search team arrives. And, Linc...thank you. Over.”

  “No thanks needed. It’s what you do for people you love. Over and out.”

  Linc put the radio down in front of him, then untied the blanket and began trying to unfold it. One side of the blanket was made of Mylar, which he knew would hold in body heat. The wind was battering them, trying to yank the fabric out of Linc’s grasp, but he held fast as he scooted right up to Meg, then flattened the blanket over her as best he could and rolled under it, tucking it in lengthwise beneath him, then pulled the excess over their heads, anchoring the other side by tucking it beneath her back. He held on to the top with his right hand and the bottom with his feet, cocooning them inside the makeshift shelter and still leaving one hand free to keep tabs on her pulse.

  Even though he could still hear and feel the wind, the blanket made a decent tent, and he was hoping the Mylar would capture enough of their combined body heat to warm her up. Now that they were secure, he switched on the flashlight, angling it so that if she came to, the first thing she would see was his face.

  Nineteen

  Precious minutes passed as Linc waited for a positive sign. When he realized the bruise on Meg’s cheekbone was the same shape as the butt of the gun they’d taken off Prince White, he was heartsick at what she’d suffered. Her mouth had obviously been bleeding even before she fell, and it was swollen to the point that he wasn’t sure she could talk if she tried. That injury was most likely the source of the blood they’d found in the barn. He couldn’t quit thinking about how scared she must have been.

  He kept rubbing her hands, trying to get the circulation flowing while waiting for Quinn to key up the radio and let him know help had arrived.