by Kris Bock
Just keep moving, she told herself. You’re still alive. That counts for something.
She heard a distant roar. She thought at first it was a long rumble of thunder, but it kept going, growing louder.
Erin cried out. She’d never heard the sound before but she could only imagine one thing causing it. A flash flood, coming their way.
She kicked the horse, aiming for the shallowest slope she could see. “Come on, come on,” she yelled. “We have to go up!”
The slope seemed impossibly steep, maybe a 45 degree angle, covered with mud and loose rocks. She couldn’t imagine how the horse could get up it, but she tried to project only confidence. “You’re amazing,” she called out, leaning low over his neck. “I know you can do this.” She kicked, squeezing with her knees to guide him. The horse bunched his muscles, seeming almost to crouch before he leaped up the slope.
They went a few feet, hooves digging in and spraying mud.
They slid back.
The roaring grew louder, like a freight train screaming close. Erin leaned low over the horse, urging him with her voice, her body, her mind. The horse struggled up a few more steps. They were three feet above the canyon floor.
The roar grew deafening. Erin saw a wall of water rushing toward them. Dark shapes tumbled in the frothing white spray. Branches. A whole tree trunk. Boulders too large to put her arms around.
A scream rose in Erin’s throat. She turned it into words. “Go, go, run! Up! You can do it.” The horse whinnied and tossed his head. His hooves dug into the slope.
Slid.
Caught.
Pushed.
He stumbled, regained his balance. He started to twist sideways, his front hooves sliding down the slippery slope. Erin’s upper body swung in a dizzying arc and she clawed at his mane, her fingers too chilled to even feel the pain from her broken bone. The horse scrabbled at the mud, straightened, and got a little higher.
Erin heard the roar pass behind them and felt the spray splash up against her back. She didn’t turn to look, only clung to the horse and urged him on. The sloped seemed endless. They were above the rushing floodwaters, but one bad slip and they could skid or tumble all the way back into it, to be carried down the canyon for miles.
Time seemed to have stopped. Each moment dragged on for eternity. And still her mind focused on up, up.
Finally the horse’s front hooves hit the top of the cliff, skidded on the wet rock, and caught. He hauled himself up. They stood trembling, the horse steaming in the cold rain, Erin somehow both too hot and too cold. She sucked in gulps of air and ignored the rain pouring off her face and sticking her clothes to her skin. She ached. Every inch of her body. She knew her finger hurt from the tight grip on the horse’s mane, but she could hardly pull that pain out from the background of all the other aches.
She gave the horse a weak pat on his neck. “Bushels of apples. Carrots, sugar cubes, whatever you want. A medal, if you care about those things. You’re the best horse ever.”
She still had to get to Silver Valley. She hoped it wasn’t much farther, but she couldn’t tell with the rain and low clouds. She didn’t know what she’d do when they got there. Drew couldn’t possibly fly in this. She was expecting a miracle from him, and that wasn’t fair. “I can’t help it,” she said out loud. “I’m fresh out of miracles. I’ve used up my quota for the year.”
She started to feel stiff with cold. They had to keep moving. They weren’t done yet. She had to get the horse walking so he wouldn’t stiffen up after his intense exercise. But she could hardly move. She sat limp and trembling, almost nauseated with fatigue.
A flash of lightning split the air. The crack of thunder followed on top of it.
Blind and almost deaf, Erin could barely hear the horse’s scream as he reared up under her. She felt herself sliding.
She landed heavily in the mud and heard the horse’s hooves slapping the ground as he ran away.
Chapter 25
Drew stared out the window at the pouring rain. Would it ever let up? People talked about New Mexico’s monsoons, storms that came in short, hard bursts. But this had been going for over an hour and showed no signs of stopping. He imagined Erin and Camie soaked to the bone, shivering as they huddled against some rock outcropping. Erin was still weak from her accident, still shaken from her snake encounter. More stress and she could get sick.
He wished he were there to warm her up.
Something moved in the dark street. Drew blinked and shook his head, then leaned closer to the window. A figure stumbled down the street, someone thin and hunched, clothes dragging and caked with mud. It took him a moment to believe it might actually be Erin, slogging through mud up to her ankles. It caked over her boots, giving them the look of clown shoes.
Drew leaped for the door and jerked it open. Erin spun toward him, swayed, and went down to her knees. Drew swore and waded through the mud. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to the office building. She was limp in his arms, a rag doll. He dragged her inside and kicked the door shut. They stood dripping in a puddle of mud. She slumped against his chest, and he knew if he let go she’d hit the ground.
She tipped back her face, pale, slicked with rain and smeared with mud, her eyes half closed and blurred with exhaustion. She smiled.
Drew hauled her up and kissed her. Her lips were cold as a corpse, but she opened her mouth and took him in. By the time he eased back, he thought she must be steaming. He certainly was. “What happened?” he asked. “Why are you here?”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you too.”
He gave her a little shake. “Erin, what’s wrong?”
She spoke as if each word was a struggle. “Those two men came. They got Camie. I ran. I had a horse but he got away. They had a gun.”
Drew’s arms tightened convulsively around Erin. Half a minute passed before he could speak. “Are you hurt?”
Her eyes were closed. “Don’t think so. Tired.”
Tired and cold. A good recipe for hypothermia. Drew dragged her to the coffeemaker, leaving a trail of wet mud. He poured a fresh mug and held her with one arm while he lifted it to her lips. “Drink this.”
She choked down the hot, strong coffee. She made a face but her eyes looked clearer. “I don’t like coffee.”
“Good. Come on, into the shower.” He carried her into the bathroom and propped her against the counter as he turned the water on hot and stripped off her clothes. She started to shiver. “Do you think you can stand in there on your own?” Not that he’d mind getting in there with her, but that could lead to distractions, and from what she’d said, they couldn’t afford the time. Besides, the shower was so small that even when he was alone he had a hard time turning around without banging his elbows.
Erin nodded. “The coffee helped,” she said through chattering teeth.
“Okay, you get in there and get warm. What about Camie, is she hurt?”
Erin shook her head. “I don’t know. The guy just said he had her. She was fighting, I don’t think she would stop unless....”
Drew squeezed her shoulders. “She’s tough, she’ll be all right. And we’re going to go make sure of it.”
Erin gazed at him, her eyes filled with hope and despair. “But how? You can’t fly in this.”
“I will if I have to. It won’t be the first time I’ve done something crazy. Now get in there and warm up. I’ll find you some dry clothes.”
He fished through the lost and found box, which offered a surprisingly thorough selection from the antiterrorist training students and others who had passed through the town. Hell, some of the stuff looked like it must’ve been left behind by the old miners and ranchers who had abandoned the place. He found a pair of worn but clean camouflage pants that looked like they might fit, a T-shirt, and a flannel shirt for warmth.
What about underclothes? Even if he could find some in lost and found, he had a feeling Erin wouldn’t want to wear a random stranger’s p
anties. Drew had extra clothes in his bag, since he’d been thinking he might spend a few nights camping with the women. He picked out a pair of boxers and some thick socks. Erin would just have to go without a bra. He pictured that and smiled.
He stepped back into the bathroom to deposit the clothes. Erin stood under the hard spray of the shower, her head tipped back and eyes closed. The light golden tan of Erin’s arms and legs faded softly to pale skin on her torso, except where the hot water had brought out a rosy flush on her belly and chest. She lifted her arms to scrub her hands through her hair and her breasts rose slightly with the gesture. Drew felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He clenched his hands to keep himself from stepping forward and grabbing her. He told himself to close his eyes, but his eyes wouldn’t obey.
His rasping breath echoed in his ears as he set the clothing on the counter. Erin opened her eyes and smiled at him. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, then slowly raked his gaze down her body and back up. Her eyes widened and she lifted a hand to the shower wall, swaying as if her knees wanted to buckle. Drew smiled smugly, sure he’d warmed her up more than coffee or a shower ever could.
He grabbed a towel and stepped toward her. Erin fumbled with the shower faucet and turned off the water. Drew wrapped the towel around her and jerked her against his chest. She stared up at him with wide eyes as he bent his head to whisper in her ear. “We don’t have time right now for what I’d like to do with you. But next time you take a shower, I want to be there to scrub your back.” He nipped at her ear. “And your front. Everything.”
She went limp as if her legs had given out, but she stroked her hands up his back and met his kiss with equal heat. Drew crushed her against himself. He eased back only when he knew he was reaching the breaking point. Another moment and he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to take her right there. He panted, waiting for his vision to clear.
Erin raised a hand and stroked his cheek. “Drew? I do like this, but....”
“I know, we don’t have time. Camie’s in trouble.” He released Erin and gestured toward the clothes.
Erin raised her eyebrows at the boxer shorts. “Yours?” Drew nodded and she smiled. “Good.” The boxers hung low on her hips, and Drew bit back a groan. She looked damn cute. She quickly tugged on the rest of the clothes. “Is there anyone else here who can help?”
Drew cleared his throat but his voice still sounded husky. “Just a bunch of administrators from the college. They started on the tour and I’m not sure where they are right now.” Erin fumbled with the buttons on the flannel shirt, so he started buttoning it for her. “Holed up in one of those buildings, I imagine. We’d waste time trying to find them and explain. Besides, dragging more people out there might cause more confusion.”
He studied Erin. She looked better, but she still had dark circles under her eyes, and the way she had fumbled with her buttons couldn’t entirely be explained by the finger splint. She needed to go to bed and sleep for a couple of days. He wanted her tucked away someplace safe. Yet he wanted to keep an eye on her and hated the thought of leaving her alone, even if logically she’d be safer there.
But was he asking too much? “You can stay here if you want. Call the police and try to get some backup. You’ve been through a lot.”
She stared at him without answering, and Drew could see the struggle inside her. Finally she said, “I need to go back. I can’t wait here and not know.... Please.”
Drew squeezed her arms, surprised at the pleasure that flooded through him. He wanted her beside him. And he realized he trusted her to do her part—to be a help, rather than a hindrance, in a rescue mission. “Then let’s go get Camie.”
Erin rinsed off her boots and put them on while Drew gathered supplies. Part of her wanted to just stay there, fall asleep and not wake up until the whole thing was over. But she wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew Camie was okay. She told herself she’d made the right decision in leaving, getting help. She told herself she’d needed the hot shower and dry clothes in order to keep functioning. But still guilt pulsed through her. What if they were hurting Camie right now? What if Erin had wasted too much time? She should have ridden the horse faster, kept control of him when they got out of the canyon. And how much time had she wasted showering and kissing Drew? Maybe only 10 minutes—but what if those 10 minutes counted?
She put a hand on her stomach and slowly realized the dull ache there came partly from hunger. She had no idea what time it was. It couldn’t possibly be as late as it felt, despite the dark skies and all that had happened, but her stomach was reminding her that she hadn’t yet had lunch. She glanced around the small office and homed in on a flimsy box with a cellophane panel in the top, sitting next to the coffee maker. She pounced and discovered half a maple bar and an old-fashioned glazed. She started shoving the donut in her mouth while she poured coffee with her other hand and added three heaping spoonfuls of sugar. The thick black brew looked disgusting, but she wanted the caffeine.
“Ready?” Drew asked from behind her.
Erin downed the coffee and turned, wiping her mouth across her sleeve. At Drew’s amused look, she said, “What? I was hungry.”
“I’ll bet.” He took her hand and sucked donut glaze off her fingers. “Mmm, maple.”
Erin felt the heat shoot straight to her belly, but Drew was already turning away. She shook her head to clear it and followed him.
They ran through the rain to the hangar and ducked in a side door. Drew flipped on the lights and started doing a quick safety check of the helicopter. Erin watched him, admiring his competence. She didn’t think of herself as the kind of woman who wanted to be rescued, but it sure felt good to have Drew take charge. Not because he was a man, but because of the kind of man he was—someone she could count on in a crisis. Erin had run out of steam, and if she thought too hard about Camie stuck with those goons and Tiger smashing into the cliff, she knew she’d cry.
He hauled up the hangar door. Water still trickled off the roof and splashed into the hangar, but the rain had turned to a drizzle and Erin realized she hadn’t heard thunder in several minutes. Drew pushed the helicopter out of the hangar and then released it from the rolling unit. “Go on out,” he said. “I’ll get the lights and close the door.”
Erin started to pass by, then paused and put a hand on his arm. “Whatever happens, I want to say thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You barely know me, and I’ve dumped all this trouble on you. You believed me. You’re risking yourself to help. And you’re not expecting me to stay behind and wait.”
He brushed a thumb along her lower lip. “Camie’s your best friend. Of course you have to go help her.” He leaned in for a kiss, soft and gentle. “You see, I do know you.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Anyway, I admire strong women. Now let’s go.”
He headed for the light switch. Erin stood near the open doorway, watching him as rain splashed at her boots. She’d never thought of herself as a particularly strong woman. She did what she was supposed to do, or what she had to do to get by. But the last week had thrown one disaster after another at her. She’d kept going even when she wanted to quit. She thought if she had known everything that would happened, was still happening, she’d have been too overwhelmed to act. But she’d gotten this far facing challenges one at a time. She wouldn’t look too far ahead. They had to get through the storm, back to Camie. Giving up wasn’t a choice; she just had to do it. Drew believed in her, and that helped. Even better, this time, she wasn’t alone.
She smiled at Drew as he came back toward her. Then she ran through the rain and climbed into the helicopter. Erin felt like an old pro as she buckled herself in and settled her headset in place. Drew started the helicopter and they rose slowly. “I’m going to keep close to the ground,” he said. “No need to go up and attract lightning any more than we have to. Fortunately the storm seems to be fading now. I just hope we don’t have to fly farther into
it.”
Rain still splattered the windshield but without much force. Still, weather moved from west to east, and they had to head east. Would they catch the storm? Erin realized she was clenching her hands when her broken finger started to complain. She forced herself to loosen her grip. She trusted Drew. She knew accidents happened even when you were competent and safe—and their actions were hardly safe. But to rescue Camie, she’d take a chance.
They flew down the main street and out of town, skimming over the wet desert floor. The sky was still gray, but the clouds were higher. They could see east across the desert to where the clouds still piled up, dark and heavy. The storm light added an odd green cast to the reddish ground below. Lightning flashed in jagged streaks across the bank of clouds, briefly turning the gunmetal gray to white. An echoing electric shiver ran down Erin’s spine. The lighting was so beautiful from a distance. So deadly up close.
What would happen if lightning hit the helicopter? Would it fry them instantly? Or would they be insulated, so long as they weren’t touching the thin metal shell? She made sure she wasn’t touching the door, but what about the wires in the headset? What about all the controls Drew had to handle?
If lightning didn’t fry them, would it send them crashing to the ground? Could they survive a crash, if they were already close to the ground? Did the helicopter have one of those black box things, to help people find them? Drew was speaking into the headset, giving coordinates to some distant listener. At least someone would know where they went.
