Silent Creed (Ryder Creed #2)

He felt Maggie’s fingers on his face and opened his eyes. She was kneeling beside him, caressing his cheek, her hand palming his chin, her thumb running over his lips.

“I was afraid I lost you,” she said in almost a whisper. And then, as if an alarm went off, she pulled him up to a sitting position. “I need you to help me get Bolo. Do you think you can do that?”

She started to help him get to his feet, but he waved her off. His knees were wobbly. When he stood up straight he winced against the pain in his chest. He waited for it to recede. It didn’t. Maggie’s hand was on his arm again.

“Maybe you can just tell me what to do,” she said.

She gathered up the rope, but Creed was looking at the ground for sturdy branches. He glanced up at Bolo. He could finally see him without any obstructions. The dog noticed and started to wag.

“Just stay, Bolo. Don’t move,” he told him in a calm voice.

The dog tucked his tail again, adjusted his feet, and eased his body down. Creed had trained his disaster dogs to navigate floodwaters and climb atop rubble exactly like the concrete boulder. He knew the dog would be okay. He had no idea how he was going to get him from there to here. Maggie must have sensed his doubt. She was back in front of him.

“I can get him,” she said. “But you need to tell me how to do that.”

“You can’t carry him. He’s eighty-five pounds.”

She glanced back as if reassessing. Her eyes came back to his. “You barely made it out of the water. You won’t be able to carry him, either. It’s going to be harder if I have to pull you both out.”

“Where’s Logan?” He didn’t care before, but now that the man might actually be able to help, he looked for him.

“Knocked his head. He’s out cold. I pulled him under the tent when I went searching for the rope.”

Creed was slow to respond.

“Ryder! You’re gonna need to let me do this.”

He knew she was right. He could barely hear over the banging in his head and in his chest. Still, he didn’t like it.

“Can Bolo swim?”

“He’s a great swimmer, but the water’s too fast.”

“I can tie the rope around my waist. I can hold on to him. Let him dog-paddle while I guide him.”

“The water’s muddy. There’s debris you can’t even see.”

“He’s not going to be able to stand there much longer. You’ve got to let me at least try.”

She grabbed his arm. Waited for his eyes. He could see that what she was about to ask of him was something she knew was precious and rare.

“Ryder, you’re going to need to trust me.”





53.




Okay, you’re right,” Creed finally said. “You need to take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?”

He thought he saw a flush go over her face. The tough FBI agent always seemed a bit shy and vulnerable about taking off her clothes.

“They’ll waterlog you. Seriously, taking off your clothes will cut down the drag. Keep your shoes on. You don’t want to cut up your feet and maybe they’ll give you some extra traction.”

He started looking again at the ground for a sturdy branch to use as a pole. It might help keep her balance. If nothing else, she could use it to probe for debris. When he glanced over she was peeling off her last layer, leaving on her sports bra. She unzipped her jeans, then stopped and looked back out at the water. She caught him watching and zipped the jeans up.

“I’m not having some sewer rat bite me.”

He nodded. Tried not to smile.

He helped her wrap and tie the rope around her waist. They tied the other end to another tree trunk. He took hold of the middle. He’d try to dole out what she needed as she needed it and also pull her in. He handed her the tree branch.

“Keep it on the upstream side of your body. It’ll be easier to hold on to and it’ll stay in place. Otherwise it’s of no use to you. The current’s going to push and pull. If it knocks you down, keep your feet out in front of you. You want your feet hitting those rocks instead of your head.”

She was nodding and taking it all in.

“Do you remember some of those deep gouges?”

Another nod.

“If you step into one of those, don’t panic. The deepest the water’s gonna be is chest-high.” He had no idea if that was true, but as fast as the water was still running, he didn’t think she’d ever touch bottom in those crevices.

He pointed at a spot on the riverbank. “It’s going to be easier if you wade against the flow at a forty-five-degree angle. I know that sounds strange but you’re gonna need to trust me on that.”

He helped her down into the water and could feel her shiver.

“Whoa! That’s cold! Hold on, Bolo, I’m coming.”