by Sharon Dunn
She pulled the bullets from her pocket and clicked open the cylinder, placing the rounds in one by one. She clicked it back in place and put the gun in her pocket with the safety on.
They pushed silently through the trees until they had a view of the ridgeline. Zane surveyed the trees and the brush for any movement.
He crawled a little farther up, still watching. They used the shelter of the trees, walking parallel to the trail. His heart pounded out a wild rhythm as he braced for an attack.
The trees thinned, and they stepped out into the open. The wind was more intense without the shelter of the trees. They were on what was nothing more than a game trail. For the moment, they seemed to be alone.
Zane pointed out the route they needed to take. “We’ll dip down into that valley and then climb up to the summit there.”
Heather let out a heavy breath. “That’s a long way.”
It would be dark by the time they made it...if they made it. “Once we get up to the summit, we’ll be able to see the river on the other side.
“Let’s eat the food Jordan gave us and then we’ll have to run as much as we can.” He glanced around again, still not seeing any signs of Willis’s men.
They settled in with their backs against a fallen log. The only noise was the sound of their chewing.
“I hope you’re right about Jordan,” Heather said. “Not just so we can have a chance of getting into town, but because he’s your brother.” She placed her hand on his.
Zane squeezed his eyes shut. Willis had influenced Jordan at a very impressionable age. That sort of brainwashing didn’t get erased instantly. “I hope I’m right, too. We’d better shove off. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” He rose to his feet and turned to face Heather. “This wasn’t your battle to fight. All this violence is because of me and my past. But you stuck with me without complaining.” He touched his hand to her cheek.
Heather placed her hand over his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know now that my father must have been an extraordinary man—because you are. You must have learned it from him, just like Jordan learned violence from Willis.”
He thought he saw the glow of affection in her eyes. Could there be something between them? Maybe if they got out of here alive and their lives calmed down. “It does matter who your fatherly influence is.”
“My father’s faith must have been deep because yours is. Makes me wish I had that kind of faith.”
“How do you know you don’t? Maybe it’s just never been tested,” Zane said.
A light came into her eyes and she nodded. “You might be right. I know I’ve never prayed before like I have since all of this started.”
They were both aware of the peril and risk they faced. There was still a chance Jordan had lied to them. They might not get off this mountain alive. Maybe that was what compelled them to speak so honestly.
He brushed his hand over her forehead and down her cheek. “We’d better get moving.”
They stepped out onto the ridgeline and headed down into the valley at a steady jog.
Within minutes, men emerged through the trees, coming at them from both sides and at a high rate of speed—two men from the east and one from the west.
Zane and Heather ran faster through the snow-laden valley as the men closed in on them. Heather pressed close to him as he pumped his legs, willing them to go faster.
One of the men raised a gun to shoot at them. Zane grabbed hold of Heather and plummeted to the ground as the bullet whizzed over their heads. The snow was cold on his bare hands. He rose to his feet and helped Heather up.
They headed toward the shelter of the trees just as the men converged on them. They pushed through the trees with the men twenty yards behind them.
Zane studied the trees, looking for the markers that indicated traps had been set. He saw the subtle indicators that only expert eyes would notice. Notches in a tree, a piece of faded fabric tied to a branch. Maybe the old traps were still here and maybe these men didn’t know about the older traps.
He ran in the direction he thought a net might be. The men were within forty feet of them.
He wrapped an arm around Heather and pulled her close when she nearly stepped on the trigger for the net. The men closed in on them. One of them raised his gun. Zane dashed out of the line of fire, hoping the men would follow him. Their pursuers ran through the clearing...and two of them were drawn up into the net, leaving them hanging upside down.
Heather came out of the shadows where she’d been hiding. She and Zane sprinted through the trees. Hopefully the third man would be delayed getting the other two out of the net.
They kept moving as evening came on, stopping only to catch their breath or eat a handful of snow while nibbling the jerky Jordan had given them.
The temperature dropped as they made their way up the mountain.
“Don’t eat any more snow,” Zane instructed at one point. “It will drop your core body temperature.” They didn’t have time to build a fire and melt some snow. They’d have to go without water.
The climb up the mountain became steeper and more treacherous, slowing their progress. Zane lifted his head. The summit was in sight. He only hoped they were doing the right thing, that Jordan hadn’t deceived them and sent them on a wild goose chase. If he had, there would be no way to stop Willis—or for him and Heather to survive.
He prayed he’d made the right choice.
SEVENTEEN
Heather’s arm muscles strained as she pulled herself up over a boulder. Their progress slowed to a crawl as they worked their way around rock formations and trudged up steep inclines.
In the dimming evening light, she could see the three men moving along behind them. They were far enough away that they looked like large bugs inching along.
She treaded up a steep incline, choosing where she put her foot carefully. A few rocks rolled down the mountain, banging against each other. Her throat was dry and she longed for a drink of water.
She hoped they hadn’t gone on a fool’s errand. Zane had a blind spot where his brother was concerned. He so desperately wanted to see Jordan’s life turn around.
They came to a wide, sheer cliff face.
Zane put his hands on his hips and took in a breath. “We don’t have time to go around this. We’ll have to climb it using hand and footholds.”
They had no ropes or equipment. The wall was maybe twenty feet high. A fall would probably not kill them, but it could severely injure them. She’d climbed faces like this before, but always with a harness and ropes.
“I’ll go first. Follow me,” he said.
Heather put her gloves in her pocket so she could grip the rock more easily. Zane worked his way up, moving sideways to find a firm hold. She put her foot into a crevice and reached for the first handhold. The rock was cold to the touch.
Zane was near the top when his foot slipped.
Her breath caught as she held on and watched helplessly. He dangled for a moment before securing another foothold. He pushed himself up and over the top.
Heather worked her way sideways and then up. In the waning light, it was hard to see the holds. She felt around until her fingers found a bump to grip. Zane reached down to pull her up.
His arms wrapped around her, and he drew her close. Her hand rested on his chest as she caught her breath from the exertion. His heart beat beneath her palm. She felt herself relaxing in his embrace, wanting to linger.
He held her a moment longer. “We should probably keep going.”
She didn’t pull free of his embrace. “Yes, I suppose.”
She tilted her head. His finger traced the outline of her jaw and then his lips covered hers. His touch made her feel like she was melting. His strong arms held her as he kissed her more deeply.
He lifted
his head but still rested his hand on her cheek. She reached up and pulled a strand of his hair off his forehead, wishing the moment could last forever. She felt light-headed, dizzy even.
Slowly, they separated from each other and came back to reality. Willis’s men were still making their way up the mountain. Willis himself was on his way to blow up a bank. They couldn’t stay here forever.
Zane pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to her. He glanced down the mountain, as well.
“We’re not that far from the summit. Let’s try to pick up the pace.” He touched her face, leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Still a bit wobbly from the first kiss, she nodded. He took off at a jog. She fell in beside him. Her whole body ached from the running they’d done. She longed for water and sleep and warmth. Somehow, though, she found herself realizing that where she really wanted to be was with Zane in whatever conditions. As long as he was by her side, she could endure anything. The top of the mountain came into view. Zane slowed and pulled out the GPS device. He turned a half circle then looked down at the device again.
Down below was the river, and beyond that, the lights of Fort Madison twinkled. The sight renewed her hope. Even after they got across the river, it would be a long hard run through the night to get to town. But still, if Jordan had been telling them the truth about the paragliders, they might make it in time to stop Willis.
She saw no lights or fires along this part of the river that indicated any of Willis’s men were waiting for them. That, too, lifted her spirits.
Zane continued to walk around and check their GPS position.
The men were closing in on them from down below. If Jordan had lied, they’d be trapped.
Zane disappeared into the trees. Heather held her breath and followed, finding Zane on the ground, pushing tree boughs and rocks out of the way.
Heather hurried over and dropped on her knees to help him. All she felt beneath her fingers was dirt.
Zane turned slightly. “Maybe we’re just off by a bit.”
Tension coiled around Heather’s torso. Not just over the fear that Jordan had set them up and that the realization would break Zane’s heart, but also at the idea that they were losing precious time while the men who wanted them dead were closing in on them.
Zane picked up a rock and started to tap the ground, listening for a metallic sound. The pounding sounded like a funeral dirge to Heather.
She hit the ground with a rock, too. Though she felt hope slipping away, for Zane’s sake, she wouldn’t give up either.
And then she heard a metallic echo and joy burst through her. “Here.”
Zack shifted toward her, working quickly to clear away the dirt and leaves. The lid creaked when he opened it up, and he pulled out two huge canvas bundles.
“We’re going to have to lay them out and attach the harnesses. I’ll get started. You go check and see where those men are.”
She sprinted out from the shelter of the trees and ran along the ridgeline. The men were jogging up the trail. At the pace they were going, she and Zane had five or maybe ten minutes before they were here. She ran back to where Zane had assembled one of the paragliders and gave her report. He nodded, but kept his focus on the gear in front of him.
“They come together fast,” he said. “Help me with the second one.”
The paraglider was a nylon wing attached to a harness.
Zane’s face was red from exertion. “You ever done anything like this before?”
She nodded. “Once when I was a teenager.”
“Go to that high point, get a running start, wait for the wind to lift your parachute. When you come to the edge, take off. The wind will lift you up.” He pointed to two strings that came out of either side of the wing. “You steer with these.” He picked up one of the paragliders. “Grab yours. I’ll help you lay out the parachute.”
They hurried out to the high point on the summit where the wind was more intense. Willis’s men had just reached the top and were headed in their direction. Her heart raced. Zane saw them, too.
“Let me get you strapped in. Remember, no hesitation once your parachute is up. Take off right away.” He kissed her. “I’ll fight these guys off and then follow after you if I can. If I don’t make it, the way into town will be clear. You need to get down there and warn them.”
The thought of losing Zane sent a wave of panic through her but she nodded. This was what had to be done. Once she was strapped into the harness, she grabbed the controls and took in a breath.
“Let me get your leg straps.” Zane leaned over and buckled her in. He glanced over his shoulder. The men were within a hundred yards. “Get going.”
Zane took several shots at the trio of men. One of them fell to the ground, but the other two kept coming.
She willed herself to look away, shifted focus to the steep incline and took off running, gaining speed. She could see the edge of the cliff. The two men took shots at Zane who scrambled for cover and fired back. In the hurry to get airborne, she’d set her gun down and forgotten it.
Her feet disconnected with the earth. The wind caught the parachute and jerked her skyward. When she glanced backward, she saw that Zane was in a hand-to-hand battle with one of the men.
A current caught her parachute and she drifted even higher. She could see the river down below. Her heart raced at the thought of falling in the freezing water. The weight of the paraglider would drown her. She had to get across.
The wind pushed her down. She steered toward the narrowest part of the river as she lost altitude. She was low enough that she could see the black, cold rapids of the river.
Her feet skimmed the water as she dipped even lower. But she was nearly across. She only needed a little more momentum to reach the other side.
Please God. Help me.
A gust of wind pushed her the remaining distance, landing her on the rocky shore. She unclipped herself from the harness and turned back around, searching the sky for Zane’s paraglider.
He had to make it. He just had to.
She tilted her head, gaze darting everywhere. No sign of Zane.
Every minute was precious. How long should she wait before she gave up on Zane and made the final trek into town on her own?
* * *
Zane landed a blow to the last man standing. The other two had been put out of commission with gunshot wounds. He’d managed to get the gun away from the third man. This man, though, fought like a trained fighter, the Bruce Lee of the mountains. Zane could feel himself tiring.
He was grateful that Heather had been able to take off. Even if he died up here, at least she would survive—and there was still a chance they could prevent that bomb from being used.
Bruce slammed a fist into Zane’s jaw, and his vision filled with white dots. Zane fought to maintain focus, to not give in to the pain. Bruce came at him again. Zane blocked the shot aimed at his head and punched the other man hard in the stomach so he doubled over. Then Zane landed a blow to his opponent’s back, which sent Bruce to his knees. That wouldn’t be enough to keep him down long enough for Zane to strap himself into the harness, though. Zane pulled his pistol out and hit the man on the side of the head so he collapsed on his belly.
Zane sprinted up toward where he’d left the paraglider and strapped in. One of the other men—seriously but not fatally wounded from Zane’s gunshots—struggled to his feet.
Zane had only precious seconds. When the wind lifted his parachute, he ran down the hill even as the man closed in on him. His feet came to the edge of the cliff. The man reached out to grab him just as his feet separated from the earth. A gunshot broke through the silence of the forest. When he looked up, he saw a small tear in the wing.
Down below, he could see the bright lime and hot pink of Heather’s paraglider. She’d made it. He saw no sig
n of her and wondered if she had chosen to head into town on her own when he’d been delayed. The choice would have been a prudent one.
The wind fluttered the nylon fabric of his parachute. He worked the levers to maintain altitude, hoping to catch another gust of wind. If he dipped down too soon he’d land in the cold water or be forced to land on the wrong side of the river.
He continued to study the landscape below, hoping to catch a glimpse of Heather. Except for those pink gloves, she was dressed head to toe in camo, so it would be easy enough for her to blend into her surroundings.
He shifted his weight to one side, steering to land close to where Heather had. A current lifted him up and then slammed him down even lower. Steering became a challenge as one wing remained lower than the other despite his shifting to balance his weight evenly. He angled his head to examine the parachute. The wind had torn the gash from the bullet, making the tear even larger.
He dropped altitude as he drifted over the river. The mumbling roar of the dark cold waves pressed on his ears. He lifted his feet to avoid getting them wet. The shore was twenty feet away. One side of the wing remained higher than the other as he prepared to land. His feet touched the rocky shore but then he was lifted up again. Momentum forced him to run for some distance before he could stop and click out of his harness.
He turned in a full circle, still hoping to see Heather. He called her name, softly at first and then louder. Half a dozen crows fluttered in the trees and took flight, but Heather didn’t answer him. He had to assume that she’d taken off down the trail...or that a squad of Willis’s men had been warned by their attackers from the top of the mountain via radio, and Heather had been taken captive or worse.
With no way to know where she was, or if she was even still alive, there was nothing he could do to search for her. And there was still the bank to be protected. The lights of Fort Madison shone down below over several hills and forested areas. He’d have to run all night if he had any hope of getting to town before Willis and his men did. Because of where he’d crossed at the river, he’d be coming into the east side of town instead of the west where the sheriff’s office was.
