Canyon Standoff

by Valerie Hansen

  He couldn’t save her.

  Eric’s entire body wanted to cave. Too much death. Too much pain. Too much loss.

  But Morgan...

  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

  He couldn’t do nothing. He couldn’t stand by and watch her race further away.

  Forcing himself out of his emotions, he dug into his tactical mind. He had to reach her, but the rapids were in a narrow part of the canyon without a ledge on the sides. All that lay along the water was rocks. Slippery, wave-washed rocks.

  He had to get to the far side of the rapids to the beach. He had to be there to reach out to her, to dive in and snatch her from the calmer waters before she drifted away again.

  To rescue her.

  “Lord, give me balance. Give her air. Keep her out of an eddy.” He prayed through gritted teeth, terrified she’d be caught in a swirl and circled into eternity.

  He leaped onto the nearest rock, slowly, wishing he could run, knowing to do so would sign both of their death warrants.

  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

  Was this how his father felt? Had he watched Eric’s mother float away, helpless to save her? Had he dived in as the river stole them both?

  He wavered on the slippery rocks. Only a hundred feet. The rapids were only a hundred feet. So short a distance. So far away.

  Another rock. Another.

  Where was Morgan?

  There. Nearing the rapids’ end, where the water swirled and threatened to trap her.

  Not as long as he had breath in him.

  His feet hit the beach and slid, his knee banging on slick rocks. With a shove, he ran through the pain and the fear until he was parallel with Morgan.

  She was free from the rapids but her fight was gone. She floated on her back, tried to move her arms, but they seemed too heavy.

  Eric had seconds before she sank a final time and the river ripped her away, never letting her surface again.

  He ran into the river’s edge until he was knee-deep, then dived, frigid water covering his head. The current was less severe here on the far side of the rapids, but it still fought to pull him off course and downriver from Morgan. He surfaced, found her farther to his right and pushed with everything he had. Pushed with every tactic he’d learned in water training. Pushed until his muscles screamed in the icy water.

  One more lift of the head, one more gasp for air, one more search for Morgan... There, so close. He altered course and dug in, mind over body. In one final heaving stroke, his hand found her shirt, his fingers closing around cloth.

  He pulled her to him, turned on his back and fought for both of them. Fought the black that threatened to engulf his mind, his body and his heart. This was how he’d lost his parents. This was how their last moments had been lived, fighting the river, fighting for each other.

  Fighting until the river won.

  NINE

  Morgan coughed, sputtered and tried to bring the world into focus. River and sky had tumbled for too long. Cold water had sapped her muscles of strength, her lungs of air...

  Her body had betrayed her when an irresistible force pulled her to shore. Too tired to fight, too exhausted to help, she’d succumbed until Eric lowered her onto the smooth rocks beside the river.

  She lay in the sun’s growing warmth, eyes squeezed shut as darkness receded and early-morning light filtered in. All she wanted was air. And sleep.

  Sleep was too much like the darkness she’d fought so hard. Morgan bolted up with a cry, gulping air, swinging her arms to fight the weight. She would not surrender, would not give in.

  “Hey, whoa.” Gentle arms encircled her, and pulled her to a strong chest, damp and chilled against her cheek.

  Eric.

  “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  I’ve got you.

  Tense, frozen muscles relaxed.

  I’ve got you.

  She’d never believed him before. Every time he’d told her in the past, she’d been utterly convinced he was going to learn of her cowardice and leave her where she deserved to be...alone.

  But he hadn’t. She clutched the front of his damp shirt and buried her face in his neck, shaking from the inside out.

  His arms tightened around her and they stayed there as the sun lifted higher and the blue sky brightened.

  “Don’t ever scare me like that again, woman.” His voice was husky. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then dropped onto the rocks beside her, breathing heavily. “I thought we were both gone.”

  “I’m sorry.” She’d failed, had turned her back and missed the clues. Like in Kevin’s club the night of the concert. She’d missed...

  A gasp tore at her water-bruised lungs and shot pain through her side and into her left shoulder. “Someone...someone shoved me into the water.” It surfaced with clarity, the memory submerged during her fight for survival. A blow to the back, a force driving her forward.

  “What?” Eric scrambled to his feet, searching the area. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, the pain in her body a physical testimony. Everything ached from bruises and tension. Her shoulder and her left side protested every time she inhaled. “I didn’t see them.”

  Eric clinched his fists, his mouth a grim line. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. Not knowing we were—” He shook out his hands and knelt beside her. “We have to get out of here. They’ll try again. At this point, our only way out is up. All of our gear is on the other side of the river and the rapids. It’s a steeper climb on this side, but we have to signal an aircraft. There’s no other way.”

  They had no food. No water. Morgan was battered and exhausted, and Eric likely was, too. The more she breathed, the more her side and shoulder protested. Something was wrong. Something she couldn’t articulate.

  It had to be fear, maybe a panic attack. That would make sense given all they’d been through.

  Given all they still had to go through. Surviving the climb on a normal day would be challenging, even without the added danger of a killer nearby. Today?

  They had no other choice but to try...and pray. Morgan nodded. It was time to be the woman she was, the one who stomped fear and survived in the wilderness. The ranger. “Faster we move, faster we have help.” She reached for Eric’s extended hand, loathe at needing help, but her muscles still shook. Her body was at its limit. If she made the hike, it would be by God’s grace alone. “It’s going to be—” Pain tore through her ankle as her weight landed on it.

  Only Eric’s grip on her hand and then under her arm kept her from crashing to the ground.

  He knelt beside her and unlaced her waterlogged hiking boot. “What?”

  Every motion brought pain. “Stop.” Gritting her teeth as spots danced before her eyes and cold sweat broke on her skin, Morgan swiped at his hand, the memory of jamming her ankle against river rocks returning. “Don’t take it off.” If he touched her foot again, she’d either pass out or punch him.

  Eric rocked onto his heels and stared into the distance, the thoughts in his head practically visible on his face.

  They were likely as dark as her own. The reflected sunlight into the canyon was warm now, but it would quickly grow hot and dangerously direct as the day wore on. They were trapped on this beach, on the opposite side of the river from their survival gear. Even if Eric dared to attempt a swim, the rapids were still between them. A killer knew their location and wasn’t afraid to exploit it.

  There was no way Morgan could climb the mesa, and it was too steep for Eric to carry her.

  From this angle, they’d reached the end of their line.

  * * *

  “You have to leave me here. Get to high g
round and signal a helicopter or plane. They’ll be flying over soon.”

  “No.” Eric rose, insides quaking with adrenaline and hunger. With a shudder, he turned to eye the path to the mesa. It was steeper on this side, but still doable...for someone with two good ankles.

  The choice was impossible. To make the climb to visibility meant leaving Morgan behind with the twin killers of man and nature. To stay and protect her meant a slow death with their gear in sight but out of reach.

  A slow death for him meant certain death for his sister, as well.

  Eric walked toward the river, more to give himself room to think than to seriously consider crossing.

  The rocks on the far side had taken him only a minute, maybe two, to traverse but they were treacherous. Seeing them now, with his mind clearly focused on them and not on Morgan, it was clear God alone had gotten him over those without sliding him into the river to a water-soaked grave.

  They were trapped. There was nothing he could do to save them.

  “You can’t quit now.” Morgan’s voice from behind him was stronger than it had been a few minutes earlier. She was regaining strength, but it wouldn’t do a thing to help her ankle. “Hannah needs you. I need you.”

  Climbing to the mesa without her was contrary to everything he’d ever been trained to do. You didn’t leave a man behind. You definitely didn’t leave the woman you loved behind.

  Eric whipped around and stared at her. She watched him, her eyes rimmed with dark circles, her hair drying in heavy curls.

  He did still love her. He’d do anything to save her.

  Even if anything meant leaving her behind?

  Climbing or staying, either way, he could be killing her.

  Unless... “You said rafters are pretty regular on the river?” He almost choked on the words. He knew the answer already, but it wasn’t one he ever liked to think about, not after his parents...

  “Four days ago there was talk of shutting it for a few days until the water levels dropped a bit. A couple of class nines and tens were on the verge of impassable, and that was before the last big washout we had. It’s possible no one will come.”

  “How soon before we know?” If there was a chance he could summon help on the river, he’d take it.

  “I don’t know. Sun’s been up about half an hour? Depends on how far upstream they made camp, what time they hit the river... Could be two hours before we can say for certain no one’s rafting, but you’re burning daylight during the wait. Not to mention extending your time without food and water. The longer you wait, the harder and more dangerous the climb is going to be.”

  He’d risk it. She could argue all she wanted but he couldn’t leave her. His heart would kill him. “Say someone put in for the night close by and got an early start. We could know in...?”

  “Less than half an hour.”

  Closing the space between them, he dropped to her side but kept his distance. She was right. He’d have to move soon or risk passing out as his body weakened and the day’s heat kicked in. He already ached with the need for water. If he so much as held her hand, his resolve to hike out without her would waver.

  Half an hour.

  “You don’t need to worry about me.” Morgan stretched her legs and studied her injured ankle, which was puffing around the top of her boot. “Whoever shoved me in is on the other side of the river. It will take time for them to cross. I’ll get out of sight by the rocks and no one will know I’m here.” When he started to argue, she held up a hand. “No. Both of us need food and water more than we need to worry about someone coming at us. We’ll die for sure without them. We only theoretically die any other way.”

  No matter what happened, it would be his fault. He was caught between a literal rock and a hard place, trapped with two other lives in his hands and no good way out.

  He scanned Morgan’s face, trying to formulate a plan, a perfect solution, some way to—

  Her eyes widened and she straightened, focused on something over his shoulder. “Eric...”

  He whipped around, ready to fight, but relief and shock quaked in his muscles.

  On the river, a man and a woman angled an inflatable raft to take on the rapids.

  They were saved.

  TEN

  As Eric helped the man haul the craft onto the small beach, the woman had a brief conversation with him, then jogged over to Morgan, her auburn ponytail bouncing. “I’m a nurse practitioner. Maybe I can take a look at your ankle?” She held out a large water bottle. “And offer you some of this? I hear your gear is on the other side of the river.”

  Normally, the thought of drinking out of someone else’s container would make her gag, but the heat in Morgan’s throat overrode her usual germ aversion. Cool water eased the burn.

  Relief sagged muscles so tense, Morgan felt limp in the aftermath. Her brain fogged from her ordeal and pain in her abdomen threatened to swamp her, but it didn’t matter. Rescue had come. They could radio out, hitch a ride with these folks to an open spot for an aircraft to come in... They could get eyes in the air looking for a possible illegal dig site...and for Hannah.

  Their ordeal was over.

  But Hannah’s still continued.

  Morgan blinked, then drank another long draft of water. One thing at a time. “Glad you guys came along.” She sat straighter as the woman knelt at her side and eyed her hiking boot. “If you’ve got a radio or any kind of satellite device, that would be great.”

  “There’s one on the boat. Soon as I know you’re stable, I’ll get it to you. You’re pretty banged up. Gonna have some killer bruises.” The woman tugged her ponytail tighter and scanned Morgan’s leg to her hip. Her brow furrowed. “You’re carrying a gun?”

  Her Glock. She hadn’t checked to see if it survived the river dunking. Her hand went to her hip, where an empty holster met her fingers. It must have ripped away in the water, probably when she was dragged against the rocks.

  Her entire body ached at the memory, the earlier release of tension allowing her muscles to feel. Everything throbbed, and the world felt like she still viewed it from underwater. She’d probably find a whole lot more injuries than her ankle, but now wasn’t the time to worry about them. “I had one. It’s at the bottom of the river now.”

  The woman nodded, then glanced over her shoulder at the man chatting with Eric on the bank. He seemed to catch her eye, then returned to his conversation.

  Something about the exchange ran a chill through Morgan. Uh-oh. When she’d been on patrol in San Diego, she’d watched drug dealers send signals along the same way. A quick nod. A hand gesture. Enough to let the next guy know a cop was in the area without calling attention to themselves.

  Maybe she was paranoid, but it seemed like a signal.

  If only Eric would turn her way so she could send her own, but he was deep in conversation.

  Morgan cleared her throat. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe having their gear stolen and Eric attacked and getting shoved into the river had skewed her judgment. Or maybe that vague feeling of wrong, as though her body was off-kilter, was playing with her head.

  Maybe. “You don’t like guns?”

  “What?” The stranger stopped assessing Morgan’s ankle and studied her face, seeming to gauge her thoughts.

  Alarm bells rang in Morgan’s head, forcing through the fog in her head to compete with the pain in her body. Something wasn’t right, not with her and not with this woman. Wincing, she bent her knee and dragged her foot closer. “I’m surprised the river is open to rafters as high as it is right now.”

  “Park Service opened it this morning.”

  Morgan’s insides iced over, an unwelcome addition to the growing pain in her shoulder and abdomen. There was no way they could have put in this morning and made it this far already. “You’re lying.” She never should have said that. Never should have tipped her hand. />
  With a half smile, the woman reached behind her back and drew a pistol, rising to stand over Morgan with an unwavering aim at her forehead. “You’re a hard woman to kill, Ranger.”

  “Morgan!”

  Eric’s cry only drew a higher tilt of the lip from the woman in front of her. “You have him?”

  “Yeah.” Behind her, the man who’d piloted the boat leveled a pistol on Eric, who held his hands out to the sides but was watching Morgan.

  They were helpless again. Trapped again. Fear threatened to burn Morgan alive, but she lifted a prayer and choked it down. God had gotten them out of more than one mess this week. He could get them out of this one, too. Somehow. He had a way of making a path even when she didn’t see one. Like Eric’s verse, her help didn’t come from anywhere but Him.

  They sure did need Him now.

  The woman nodded. “Get him in the boat. I’ll handle our ranger friend and then we can get moving.” She tilted her head as though considering Morgan, her eyes cold.

  There would be no hope of begging for her life now.

  The barrel of the pistol pressed into Morgan’s forehead, hard and cold.

  “Don’t worry. It will all be over before you know it.”

  * * *

  They were going to kill Morgan. Right in front of him.

  There wasn’t time to take out his captor and make it across the small beach fast enough to keep Morgan’s assailant from pulling the trigger. He was helpless to keep her alive.

  Helpless. Like his father before him.

  Now he’d really failed.

  Lord, give me something. Anything.

  The man tossed a set of zip tie handcuffs at Eric’s feet. “Put them on one wrist. I’ll handle the other as soon as my partner is done with her part of the job.”

  Her part of the job. Killing Morgan. Killing Morgan while Eric watched, restrained and helpless.

  Wait. If they were restraining him, then they didn’t plan to kill him. These people clearly wanted him alive, while Morgan was expendable. He had special importance to whatever they were doing.