He hadn’t wanted to leave Brynn. That’s what had made Alex pause. He couldn’t leave her alone with a serial killer wandering the woods. Especially now that Besand had seen her. She might as well have a big target on her back.
“I’ll feel better knowing you’re here with her and Ryan anyway. Thomas and I should be able to hike out in under twentyfour hours if we push it. We’ll get more supplies and come back on foot or by copter if the weather breaks,” Jim stated.
Alex nodded.
Thomas scowled.
“What?” Jim asked.
“Don’t like breaking up the team,” he said evenly.
Jim exhaled and nodded. “Neither do I. But I don’t see any other choice. We could all stay, but what’s the point? We’ll get help faster if we move out.” He glanced at his watch. “As soon as possible.” He shifted his attention to Alex. “Can you hold down the fort?”
He nodded. Jim held his gaze for a second longer than was necessary.
“Let’s get going.”
Silently, eyes scanning, guns at the ready, the three men headed back to the plane. Kiana kept pace next to Alex.
“What happened to your leg?” Thomas asked.
Alex jumped at the sound of Thomas’s voice. The man spoke so rarely. “Uh, gunshot wound.”
“How long ago?” Apparently, Thomas was feeling chatty.
Alex counted in his head. “Four years or so.”
“Judge Braeden?”
Alex nearly tripped. Jim turned from his position at point and raised an eyebrow at Thomas. “You talking about that murdered judge? I remember that.” He frowned at Alex. “Were you there?”
Alex could only nod. How had Thomas put it together? He’d added one and one and come up with four. Accurately.
Jim stopped their trek and faced Alex. “Two marshals died in that courtroom. You were shot too?”
Alex met his gaze and nodded again.
Jim’s brows came together. “The judge and the shooter died too. Wasn’t the shooter the wife of some illegal drug importer on trial? She shot the judge and three marshals, but one of them managed to take her down with a shot.” He eyed Alex. “You got her, didn’t you?”
Alex looked straight ahead, avoiding Jim’s penetrating eyes. “Never shot a woman before.” And he hoped he never would again. He’d had horrific dreams and weekly counseling for months. Along with physical therapy for his leg. “Don’t we need to get back to the plane?” Alex asked in an end-of-topic tone.
Jim was silent for a second and Alex watched the emotions war on his face. Jim was curious about the incident, but obviously didn’t want to leave Brynn alone any longer than they had.
He mashed his lips together and spun around, setting a fast pace back to the plane.
Alex silently exhaled. He didn’t need the Braeden case rehashed at this minute. His forehead throbbed, and he wished for an evening alone with some Vicodin.
The wind picked that moment to blast up the valley, and he burrowed his nose into the collar of his coat. Kiana bumped against his bad leg, nearly throwing him off balance. Thomas cursed as his hat blew off. He lunged and stomped on it, barely catching it by the brim.
The hike out of the Cascades was going to suck. Alex was glad he wasn’t going anywhere for at least the next two days. It was going to be cold and cramped and there wouldn’t be much to eat, but he’d have all the time in the world to get to know Brynn better.
And be watching for Besand over his shoulder.
Maybe the hike out would be better.
Liam Gentry huddled over his brother, warming him with his body heat. Since he’d piled enough snow up over the broken window to create an icy wall, the temperature inside the helicopter wasn’t too bad. Didn’t people pay big money to sleep in hotels made of ice? He’d seen that in a magazine somewhere.
Last night had been the worst night of his life. Tyrone had faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes talking to Liam like he was their dad. Other times mistaking Liam for an old army buddy. At least this morning Tyrone knew who Liam was. And he knew how dire their situation was.
They hadn’t packed any food. The little chopper had held no basic supplies other than a flashlight, tarp, and lousy first aid kit.
A flare gun was stashed under one of the seats but was useless in this weather. Who’d see a flare?
Who’d be stupid enough to fly in this weather?
He’d be repeating that question the rest of his life. And there was a good chance the rest of his life wouldn’t be that long.
He’d survived a helicopter crash. The first one of his career. And he didn’t plan to ever be in another one. He hadn’t been scared when the copter went down; he’d been angry. Angry at Brynn, himself, and his brother. None of them had exercised the brains God gave them to stay home out of this shitty weather. And now they all were paying for it.
If he ever got out of here…
He was saying “if” a lot.
If he saw Brynn again. If his brother didn’t die on him. If he didn’t die.
Too many ifs.
He moved closer to his brother. Tyrone’s head injury was serious. The broken ribs didn’t bother him if he didn’t move too much, but Liam worried Tyrone would accidentally puncture a lung.
How Liam had managed to escape the wreck with only a sprained wrist was a miracle. Both brothers should be dead. Only the cushion from the tree branches and then the fall into a deep snowdrift saved their asses.
To die alone.
How many times overnight had he wished they’d both simply died in the wreck? So much faster. Instead of this long, drawn-out, slow death. No one was going to find them. They were working off the clock and had probably been off the radar when they went down. The tower at Springton was probably wondering why they hadn’t returned, but whom would they contact? Even when someone did realize they were missing, they wouldn’t know where to look.
He didn’t have any more tears. He’d silently cried them dry in the night as he’d worried his brother would never wake up. If he ever got out of this mess he was going to stick a ring on Brynn’s finger. He’d waited too long. He knew she had doubts about marriage, but after this experience she had to listen to him. She had to let him move back in. He knew she was what he wanted from life. And their kids. He wanted children with that woman, but now it might never happen.
He turned his head so his nose was buried in Tyrone’s hair. His brother’s breathing was rough, like a virus had been planted in his lungs and was starting to expand.
Aw, shit.
A pounding on the glass made Liam jolt, and Tyrone cried out at the movement against his ribs.
A single big silhouette was visible through the steamed glass, and Liam happily discovered he did have more tears to shed.
Help had arrived.
Brynn sympathized with her dog. Kiana lay in front of the door with her head on her paws, watching the three remaining humans closely. She’d whined as Jim and Thomas left to hike out, even following for a few feet before turning around to wait for her master to follow. Somehow the dog had known Jim was leaving for good. And she’d wanted to go with him, but she wouldn’t leave Brynn.
Brynn felt the same way about Ryan.
More than anything she wanted to be hiking out of this hell with Jim and Thomas, but she couldn’t leave Ryan. Was it a woman thing? Always left to wait for the man to return? Always the one volunteering to stay with the sick? Was it a gene?
She looked around the cramped plane. No one could stand up straight, and no one could have any privacy. Alex had laid down the law about any outside excursions. She wasn’t even allowed to pee alone. A twinge of claustrophobia pricked at her neck. If they were lucky there would be two, maybe three more nights spent in this plane.
They’d buried the pilots and marshal before Jim and Thomas left.
She’d watched Alex’s face as they lay the dead marshal in the hole. It had been carefully blank. She’d tried to get him to talk about the agent, but he’d shaken his head.
“Not now.”
But would he talk later?
A strange stiffness had settled among the three left behind. She’d found a pack of cards in her backpack. An unnecessary luxury she’d nearly thrown out of her pack many times. She’d never been so thankful to see a useless stack of cards. They’d started with poker, betting with fir needles that Alex had reluctantly agreed to go grab. He’d had Brynn cover him from the cargo door with Ryan’s gun as he dashed to the nearest tree. Their plane was like a cave. Every few hours Alex would step outside and make sure their cargo door wasn’t pinned closed by a growing snowbank while Brynn covered him with a weapon.
“Do you think he’s still here?”
She’d asked the question as they waited for Ryan to make his bet. Alex had told them of the message on the cockpit ceiling, but he hadn’t been sure of when it was written, and neither Brynn nor Ryan could recall if they’d glanced at the ceiling when they were in the plane the previous day.
“It could be old,” she’d stated.
“It could be fresh,” Alex had countered. He hadn’t looked her in the eye.
He’d creamed both of them at poker, and then Ryan had headed to the cargo area to stretch out and take a nap. Alex had leaned his head back in one of the big seats and partially closed his eyes. The silence had been heavy. He’d acted tired, but she noticed he kept one eye on the door at all times. Even while they had played. He’d watched Kiana too. When she’d start at a noise, Alex would leap, causing Ryan and Brynn to leap. Finally, Alex had relaxed somewhat, seeming to rely on the dog to give him an early warning if anyone approached.
Brynn had already figured that out. Kiana wasn’t a watchdog, but she did have a tendency to perk up when someone approached. Brynn assumed she could hear through the wind. She touched Ryan’s gun she’d tucked in her coat pocket. It was slightly assuring. Alex’s hyperawareness was more assuring.
She’d tried to return the gun to Ryan. The ibuprofen had lowered his fever and he seemed halfway normal, but he professed to feeling extremely weak. He shook his head at the offer of the gun. “My reflexes are off, and all I want to do is sleep. It’s better in your hands.”
She’d seriously doubted that, but Alex had backed up Ryan.
Now she and Alex pretended to doze while Ryan snored. She glanced at her watch. Thomas and Jim had been gone for two hours. They’d agreed that when the weather cleared and it seemed fine for flying that one of the bright-blue tarps would be laid out in the snow for searchers to see from the air. Alex had checked the ELT and found it undamaged, so a signal was being put out, but someone had to be in line of sight to pick up the signal. Either in the air above them or up the mountain. Hopefully, the batteries had a strong charge.
As more snow fell, the wind became quieter and the cabin grew warmer. The makeshift wall at the ripped end of the cabin grew thicker as snow piled against it outside. Condensation dripped down the walls. Sort of like snow caving but with luxury seats and metal-framed walls and ceiling.
Brynn wanted to go stretch out in the back by Ryan. But something kept her sitting in the seats with Alex. A peaceful air had descended in the tiny cabin, an intimacy she didn’t want to disturb. They sat facing the wall of snow, listening to Ryan snore. The tiny aisle between the two seats seemed to shrink. It could have been a quiet evening at home. The TV off, the dog drowsing at their feet.
“Why did you freeze going over the river?” Alex asked. “Ryan told me a bit, but I’d like to hear it from you.”
His question fired the air around Brynn. Any sort of comfort vanished and tension rang in her ears. She turned toward him. His face was grave, a touch of reluctance in his eyes, but there was also concern. Suddenly she wanted to tell him. Wanted him to understand the terror that had racked her core as she stood over water.
“When I was eight, my best friend died crossing the small river near my home.”
“You were there.” It wasn’t a question.
She closed her eyes and felt the sun from that hot day touch her face. “I was following her. It was my idea to cross the water. There was a log bridge similar to what we used the other day, but it had nothing to hang on to. I’d crossed it a hundred times. All the kids in the area used it. But usually the water wasn’t anything more than a quiet creek. That day was the first sunny and warm day after several days of rain. There’d been a freak storm in the middle of summer, and we were itching to get out of the house. It’d been three days of pouring rain followed by one hot day of bliss.
“The footbridge was the fastest way back to Sarah’s house. I still remember how high and fast the water was. Even though it’d stopped raining during the night, the river hadn’t crested. It was still rising from the runoff and other little streams that fed into it.”
Brynn’s heart was strangely calm, but her chest felt tight, like it was forbidding her heart to speed up. The story was rolling off her tongue with an ease that surprised her. She kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see the expression on Alex’s face. She hated pity.
“Sarah crossed first. The log was wet and slimy from the rain. There were many trees right at that spot that kept most of the sunlight off the bridge. It always grew moss that sometimes was helpful for traction during crossings, but that day it was terribly slick.
“I remember we were both barefoot and wore light sundresses with swimming suits underneath to celebrate the return of the sunshine. We were going to set up the Slip ’n Slide in her backyard. But she fell. At first I thought she was fooling around, pretending to be on a balance beam. Her left leg was high in the air and both her arms had flown up like a ballet dancer. Then she slipped. She clung to the log, but her hands couldn’t get a grip. I rushed out and knelt on the log and managed to grab one of her hands, but it was slick with slime from grasping at the log.”
Brynn paused. She could smell the ripe scent of the fast water and wet log and taste the blood where she’d bitten her tongue while grabbing her friend’s hand. She could feel the little hand slip out of hers and hear both their screams. Her scream had lasted longer. Sarah’s had been extinguished as her head dropped below the water.
“The water rushed her downriver. I saw her head bob up five times before the river turned. I crawled on all fours, and my knee slipped. I went over one side of the log, but my foot caught on a branch about two feet below the water’s surface. It stopped me from going completely under. I balanced on that branch and clung to the slimy log. I couldn’t pull myself back up. I hung on and watched as the water moved higher up my body. They say I was in the water for hours. It was so cold. I couldn’t feel my feet or legs. The sun managed to break through the trees and shine on my head and back. It probably saved my life.”
“Who found you?”
“The sheriff’s department. Someone had pulled Sarah’s body out of the river. She was immediately identified, because everyone knew everybody in our little town. When the sheriff notified her parents they asked about me. That’s when the search started. The footbridge was the first place they checked. Her parents knew we used it to cross back and forth to each other’s house even though we’d been told a million times not to. There was a regular bridge and road, but it was at least hundred yards farther downstream. We always went to the footbridge.”
Sarah’s father had destroyed the footbridge the following day. Brynn hadn’t known until weeks after the accident when she’d found herself drawn back to see the place she’d lost her friend. She’d frozen in shock at the sight. Sawdust had still coated both banks where Sarah’s father had attacked the log with his chainsaw. She’d cried at the sight, confused by her anger at the loss of a childhood adventure site and her happiness that someone had taken revenge on the log that killed her friend.
She still felt the bewildering war of emotions.
“Jesus Christ. I don’t see how you managed to cross the other day.”