by Cari Hunter
Supporting her side with her hand, she slowly gathered as much wood as she could and—keen to get all her activities completed in one go—filled a pot with water. The fire lit on her third attempt, smoldering at first before sparking properly into life as one of the larger logs caught. Sarah was watching the water slowly beginning to simmer when the harsh tone of the radio cut through the relative calm. She stared at the small black handset, eager to speak to Marilyn but assailed by the familiar dread that it would be one of Deakin’s men on the other end. The tone seemed to grow more insistent, echoing through the clearing and bouncing back off the river. She blocked it out, working to convince herself that even if it was Aaron, he would be miles away at the hut by now and couldn’t hurt her from there. The thought gave her the confidence to pick the radio up, the tone ceasing immediately as she pressed the talk button.
“Hello?”
“Sarah?” Marilyn sounded barely on the right side of frantic. “Are you both okay?”
Sarah glanced at Alex, who had inclined her head slightly at the disturbance but had yet to open her eyes.
“Not really,” she said, trying not to allow Marilyn’s panic to bleed into her. “Alex isn’t breathing properly. She took some water into her lungs and I don’t know what else I can do to help her.”
“Is she conscious?”
“Now and again.”
“Okay. There are medics on their way to you. The team has given an ETA of three hours. Let me try and get ahold of them…” Her voice trailed off and Sarah heard her hold a rapid discussion with two different men, another radio buzzing faintly in the background. Sarah found Deakin’s GPS and worked out their exact location while Marilyn conferred with the rescue team. She turned her attention back to the radio as Marilyn addressed her again.
“The medics say you should try and keep Alex awake,” Marilyn told her. “When she’s able to drink, push fluids, the sweeter the better, and keep her warm.”
Sarah nodded, relieved that she had inadvertently followed most of this advice already. “I got her changed and into a sleeping bag but I can’t get the handcuffs off her,” she said, and heard what sounded like a muffled gasp from the other end of the connection. When Marilyn replied, it was with obvious difficulty.
“You’ve done real good, Sarah. Three hours, that’s all, and they’ll be with you.”
“Okay. Oh…” Slowly but surely, Sarah pulled together the mention of the handcuffs with the need to tell Marilyn about Tanner. She rubbed a hand on her forehead and her fingers came away wet with sweat. “There’s a man in the woods, close to the camp I told you about. He worked with Deakin. I shot him in the leg. I didn’t have time to tie him up, but his leg was broken and he was bleeding a lot.”
Marilyn let out a surprised laugh as Sarah paused for a breath. “Shouldn’t give my guys too much of a problem then?” she said.
“He was unconscious when I left him,” Sarah conceded. She didn’t want to acknowledge that she might have killed him, but the thought wormed its way into her head regardless.
“I’m sure you did what you had to do, Sarah. The medics will take care of him too.”
Sarah thumbed the talk button but released it again without responding. For a couple of seconds, there was silence from both sides, then: “Marilyn?”
“Go ahead.”
“Tanner might have a key,” Sarah said quietly. “For Alex. He was the one who cuffed her.” The logic of that had escaped her when she had returned to the camp; all she had wanted to do was collect the supplies and take them back to Alex. “I have our coordinates for the rescue team, if that’ll help.” She read out the numbers as they appeared on the screen, hoping they made more sense to Marilyn than they did to her.
“That will definitely help,” Marilyn said, once she had read them back for her to confirm. “I’ll pass all the information on.”
Sarah nodded, feeling calmer now that she had remembered everything she needed to say. “I’m going to make Alex a drink.”
“Good girl. You do that and call me if you need me.”
“I will.” She cut the connection and set the radio down. She wrapped a scrap of T-shirt around her hand to protect it, and reached for the pot of hot water.
*
“Drink this. No, don’t spit it out.” Sarah held the cup of sweetened tea to Alex’s lips. “Drink it. That’s right.”
It was the third time she had tried to follow Marilyn’s advice to “push fluids,” and as usual, Alex was not being the most compliant of patients.
“Look, it’s not my fault Deakin packed this stuff instead of cocoa. It’s only fruit tea. I don’t see why you’re pulling your face.” Sarah took a sip to prove her point and only just refrained from spitting it back into the cup. “Shit, that tastes like cat piss. What flavor is it supposed to be?” She checked the packet. “Pampering pomegranate and goji berry.” The grass steamed as she emptied the cup onto it. “Well, I suppose it must be very stressful being the leader of a bunch of skinheads,” she muttered.
The smug expression on Alex’s face was ruined when she began to cough. Sarah helped her lean forward and supported her until the worst of it seemed to have passed.
“Better?” she asked, guiding Alex back against the pack.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“How’s about vanilla, chamomile, and honey, instead?”
Alex nodded, her body still jerking with coughs she was trying to suppress. Sarah poured more water and stirred the tea slowly as it steeped.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, so quietly that Sarah barely heard her above the tapping of the spoon on the metal cup.
“About the tea?”
“No, about the river.” She coughed again and Sarah tried to brace her, but she moaned in pain regardless. “So stupid. Shoulda left me in there.”
“Like that was ever an option.” Sarah ruffled Alex’s hair. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”
“No fucking chance of that,” Alex said fervently. “Drowning hurts like a bitch.”
Sarah smiled, holding the cup for her to sip from. “So did hauling your arse out of the water.”
Alex’s eyes had closed, and when Sarah nudged her, it seemed to take an awful lot of determination for her to open them again. “Thank you for hauling my ‘arse’ out of the water,” she mumbled.
“My pleasure.” Intent on keeping her awake, Sarah persevered with the cup. “It’s a nice arse,” she added as an afterthought.
Alex’s shoulders began to shake as she laughed, which set her off coughing and made Sarah instantly apologetic.
“Shit. Sorry. Here, try the tea.”
Alex choked a mouthful down and then took a second more comfortably.
“What happened to Deakin?” She was looking around now, as if fractured pieces of the past few hours were only just returning to her.
“He hit his head and the current took him under.” The cloying smell of the tea combined with the memory of his skull splitting into the water made Sarah’s stomach churn, and she moved the cup farther away from her. “He’s dead, Alex,” she said, wondering whether she would ever think of the man with anything other than loathing. “And Tanner’s in the woods with a bullet in his leg. I don’t know if he’s…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if he’s still alive. I could’ve checked when I went to the camp, but I was so tired.” The words came out like a confession, and Alex must have picked up on her distress because she leaned her head on Sarah’s shoulder. “I just wanted to get back to you,” Sarah whispered, as guilt and sorrow and stress drained her anger away.
She felt Alex kiss her cheek and moved her head a fraction so that the next kiss touched her lips.
“So much of this I would want to change,” she said. “But if it meant not meeting you, I wouldn’t change a thing.” Abashed, she wiped her face dry before she dripped tears into the tea, and then reached over to wipe Alex’s face for her. “And that’s about as mushy as I’ll ever get.”
“You could blame it
on your fever,” Alex suggested.
Sarah winced. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Kinda hard to forget when I just burned my lips on you.”
“Oh.”
“How long till they get here?”
Sarah studied her watch, struggling with the simple calculations. “About an hour and a half.”
“Got time for more tea.”
“Yup, got plenty of time for that.”
“What do we have left?”
There were three bags remaining in the packet. Sarah tried to keep her face straight as she read them out. “Tangerine Temptress, Blueberry and Banana Burst, or Buttercup Sage.” Alex stared at her in disbelief and Sarah shrugged. “Or we could just drink water.”
“I vote for that,” Alex said quickly. “I feel crappy enough as it is without choking on a cup of Buttercup Sage.”
Sarah tossed the packets into the fire, crinkling her nose at the pungent smell that rose up. “Bloody hell, as if we needed further proof that Deakin was a psychopath.”
Alex was attempting to bury her nose beneath the neck of her sweater. “God, I need my hands.” She smiled when Sarah leaned across and held her nose for her. “Oh honey, if that’s not a sign of true love,” she said, her voice sounding as if she was impersonating a duck, “then I really don’t know what is.”
*
The soft clink of the handcuffs was muffled by Alex’s sweater, so that she could continue to twist her hands against the metal without disturbing Sarah. She didn’t like to think what damage she was doing to her wrists, but the pain in them was the only thing keeping her alert. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so tired. Not even after working a week of night shifts in the middle of a Los Angeles summer, the heat baking her as she tried in vain to sleep through the day. This was a different kind of tired altogether, an almost irresistible yearning to give in, to stop having to fight so damn hard for every breath she took, and simply to close her eyes instead.
The metal bit into her skin when she deliberately pulled her wrists apart, the renewed agony jolting her awake. She knew there was a very strong possibility that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t be opening them again. Her chest whined like a decrepit set of bagpipes as she breathed. It felt as if she were trying to draw air in through a wet sock, and it made something grate at the base of her lungs. There was still fluid in her chest; she could hear it when she coughed, and she occasionally ended up with a mouthful of dirty water. Not often enough to clear it, though, and the relentless coughing combined with the matted laceration at her temple had given her a throbbing headache.
There was a restless whimper from where Sarah lay with her head cushioned on Alex’s thigh, and Alex murmured softly to settle her. She had fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago, wrapped so tightly in a blanket that barely any of her remained visible. The Glock lay in front of her, still loaded and within easy reach. Once bitten, twice shy, Alex thought. She didn’t care if Sarah had been in contact with Marilyn; there was no way they were meeting this rescue team without being armed.
A rustling in the undergrowth instantly made her look up. Sarah had obviously heard it too, because she was struggling to unwind herself from the blanket. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused when she glanced at Alex, but she snatched hold of the gun and pointed it in the direction of the noise.
“Easy,” Alex said, not liking the barely contained panic evident in Sarah’s reaction. “Take it easy.”
Sarah ignored her, one hand swiping hair from her face, the other still clasped around the gun.
“Two hands, Sarah,” Alex said, and Sarah nodded nervously, moving her free hand into a rough approximation of the correct position.
The noise was closer now but scatter shot as if something was darting from side to side. It sounded nothing like the tread of a person. Alex shook her head, relaxing slightly. “Probably an animal,” she whispered.
Sarah muttered what sounded like agreement, but didn’t move an inch. The long grass edging the clearing began to shift as it was disturbed. Then it parted wide, to allow a large black and tan dog to run straight toward them. Sarah let out a yell, her finger twitching on the trigger just as Alex called a warning.
“Sarah, no!”
The dog barked in excitement, completely oblivious to the chaos he had wrought, and bolted over to lick Alex’s face.
“Hey, Kip,” she spluttered, unable to do anything to curtail his enthusiastic greeting. “Sarah, meet Kip,” she said as Sarah carefully lowered the gun. “I think there’s a damn good chance we’re about to be rescued.”
Chapter Seventeen
As if sensing how cold Sarah felt, Kip had wriggled as far onto her lap as he could and allowed her to wrap her arms around him. She shivered into his coat, half-convinced that he would disappear like a mirage if she risked letting him go. Neither she nor Alex had been able to raise their voices sufficiently for any useful response to the faint cries of the rescue team, and she was hoping Kip’s barking had been loud enough to guide them in. The fire was all but extinguished, and a cold fog rolled off the river as sleet began to fall again. She and Alex had pushed themselves as far as they could possibly go. Now all they had the strength to do was wait.
Kip’s ears tickled her cheek as they pricked up and his tail began to thump against her thigh. He bounced off her knee and darted back the way he had come, his barks fading but still audible, letting them know he hadn’t gone far. She couldn’t help but place her hand on the gun, but she stopped short of picking it up.
“Are you sure?” she asked Alex.
“I’m sure,” Alex told her with absolute certainty. “I can hear Walt now.”
When Kip returned, he was walking sedately at the heels of a man whose smile immediately put Sarah at ease. The man’s tanned face was dirt-streaked and weary, but he gave a shrill whistle to alert his companions and hurried across to crouch beside the fire. He set a large shotgun by the Glock before kneeling down properly.
“Hey, Walt,” Alex said, but then shook her head, unable to continue.
“Damn, Alex.” The concern in Walt’s voice brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. Without saying another word, he unzipped the sleeping bag, quickly figured out where Alex’s hands were tucked, and lifted her sweater just enough to uncover them. He fished in the pocket of his jacket and took out a small key. “Found this on the man in the woods,” he said, a hardening to his tone showing what he thought of Tanner. With a gentleness that belied his gnarled hands, he eased the handcuffs from her wrists. “Got medics on the way.” He dropped the cuffs out of sight. “Have you both fixed up and out of here in no time.”
Alex murmured her thanks and took hold of Sarah’s hand as Walt turned to speak to Sarah.
“You the one been getting Alex into mischief, then?” His face crinkled like tissue paper as he smiled at her.
She tried to reply, but emotion clogged her throat. When she nodded in lieu of an answer, Walt patted her hand in tacit understanding.
A clamor of voices and the clomping of boots heralded the remainder of the rescue team. Walt met them halfway, directing two medics toward Sarah and Alex before conferring urgently with a middle-aged man in a park ranger uniform. The buzz of radios overlapped as three more men—heavily armed and wearing navy blue jackets emblazoned with FBI—took up strategic positions to keep a wary eye on the perimeter of the clearing.
After so long with only Alex for company, the activity was too much for Sarah, who instinctively shrank away, pushing herself closer to Alex. She flinched when one of the medics—the only woman in the team—knelt beside her and touched her wrist.
“Shit, sorry,” the woman said, immediately withdrawing her hand. “I should’ve…” Flustered, she shook her head. “I guess you’ve had a pretty rough week, huh?”
Sarah arched an eyebrow and the woman smiled in recognition of the understatement.
“My name’s Renee, and my colleague there is Theo. We need to take a look at you both, if th
at’s okay?”
Sarah’s reply was cut off when Alex started to cough. Within seconds, the attack had become so ferocious that she was making a terrible whooping sound as she tried to draw air into her lungs.
“Jesus,” Sarah whispered. She watched, frozen in terror, as Alex’s eyes bulged with distress.
Renee had already moved to help Theo, who passed her an oxygen cylinder as he hooked Alex up to a monitor and set a probe on her finger.
“Sats are only eighty-four percent. Tachy at one thirty-eight. Chest sounds like crap.” He turned to Sarah. “How long was she in the water?”
Oxygen hissed from the tank. Renee waited impatiently as the reservoir bag on the oxygen mask inflated, and then she secured the mask over Alex’s nose and mouth.
“About six, maybe seven minutes,” Sarah said, peering over to try to see the numbers on the monitor. She knew from her time in the ICU that eighty-four percent was a dangerously low reading.
“Was she breathing when you got her out?” Renee asked gently, her fingers slapping at a vein on the inside of Alex’s elbow.
“Yes.” Sarah watched the needle slide beneath Alex’s skin. “But not very well, and she’s been wheezing ever since.”
“I’ll try her with an albuterol neb,” Theo said. He glanced at the monitor. “Pressure’s pretty low.”
“Already on it,” Renee muttered, concentrating on the IV she was setting up. “ETA on the chopper?”
“Not sure, Walt was dealing.” He swapped the mask for one with a plastic chamber fixed beneath it. A white mist formed as the medication in the chamber mixed with oxygen. “Here you go. This should make things a little easier,” he said to Alex, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes were fixed on Sarah, the fear in them fading as her breathing gradually became less labored.
