The resemblance to his brother was very apparent.
No! Melanie protested.
I crawled back to him on my hands and knees—slowly, feeling the ground with care before each inch I moved. I was too afraid to go beyond the pillar, so I hooked my good leg around it, an anchor again, and leaned around to wedge my hands under Kyle’s arms and over his chest.
I heaved so hard I nearly pulled my arms from their sockets, but he didn’t move. I heard a sound like the trickle of sand through an hourglass as the floor continued to dissolve into tiny pieces.
I yanked again, but the only result was that the trickle sped up. Shifting his weight was breaking the floor faster.
Just as I thought that, a large chunk of rock plummeted into the river, and Kyle’s precarious balance was overthrown. He began to fall.
“No!” I screamed, the siren bursting from my throat again. I flattened myself against the column and managed to pin him to the other side, locking my hands around his wide chest. My arms ached.
“Help me!” I shrieked. “Somebody! Help!”
CHAPTER 33
Doubted
Another splash. Kyle’s weight tortured my arms.
“Wanda? Wanda!”
“Help me! Kyle! The floor! Help!”
I had my face pressed against the stone, my eyes toward the cave entrance. The light was bright overhead as the day dawned. I held my breath. My arms screamed.
“Wanda! Where are you?”
Ian leaped through the door, the rifle in his hands, held low and ready. His face was the angry mask his brother had worn.
“Watch out!” I screamed at him. “The floor is breaking up! I can’t hold him much longer!”
It took him two long seconds to process the scene that was so different from the one he’d been expecting—Kyle, trying to kill me. The scene that had been, just seconds ago.
Then he threw the gun to the cave floor and started toward me with a long stride.
“Get down—disperse your weight!”
He dropped to all fours and scuttled to me, his eyes burning in the light of dawn.
“Don’t let go,” he cautioned.
I groaned in pain.
He assessed for another second, and then slid his body behind mine, pushing me closer to the rock. His arms were longer than mine. Even with me in the way, he was able to get his hands around his brother.
“One, two, three,” he grunted.
He pulled Kyle up against the rock, much more securely than I’d had him. The movement smashed my face into the pillar. The bad side, though—it couldn’t get much more scarred at this point.
“I’m going to pull him to this side. Can you squeeze out?”
“I’ll try.”
I loosened my hold on Kyle, feeling my shoulders ache in relief, making sure Ian had him. Then I wriggled out from between Ian and the rock, careful not to put myself on a dangerous section of the floor. I crawled backward a few feet toward the door, ready to make a grab for Ian if he started slipping.
Ian hauled his inert brother around one side of the pillar, dragging him in jerks, a foot at a time. More of the floor crumbled, but the foundation of the pillar remained intact. A new shelf formed about two feet out from the column of rock.
Ian crawled backward the way I had, dragging his brother along in short surges of muscle and will. Within a minute, we were all three in the mouth of the corridor, Ian and I breathing in gasps.
“What… the hell… happened?”
“Our weight… was too… much. Floor caved in.”
“What were you doing… by the edge? With Kyle?”
I put my head down and concentrated on breathing.
Well, tell him.
What will happen then?
You know what will happen. Kyle broke the rules. Jeb will shoot him, or they’ll kick him out. Maybe Ian will beat the snot out of him first. That would be fun to watch.
Melanie didn’t really mean it—I didn’t think so, anyway. She was just still mad at me for risking our lives to save our would-be murderer.
Exactly, I told her. And if they kick Kyle out for me… or kill him… I shuddered. Well, can’t you see how little sense that would make? He’s one of you.
We’ve got a life here, Wanda. You’re jeopardizing that.
It’s my life, too. And I’m… well, I’m me.
Melanie groaned in disgust.
“Wanda?” Ian demanded.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
“You’re a rotten liar. You know that, right?”
I kept my head down and breathed.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing,” I lied. Poorly.
Ian put his hand under my chin, pulled my face up. “Your nose is bleeding.” He twisted my head to the side. “And there’s more blood in your hair.”
“I—hit my head when the floor fell.”
“On both sides?”
I shrugged.
Ian glared at me for a long moment. The darkness of the tunnel muted the brilliance of his eyes.