Uncharted

by Adriana Anders

  Though he shook hard, his eyes were clear and cognizant and staring straight at her. Holy shit, he was faking it.

  He closed his eyes once, and with that move gave her all the assurance she needed. I love you, the look said. Get us out of here. And, finally—the biggie: I trust you.

  Straining, she shoved hard and forced her hands past her ass to her legs before the men disappeared from view. She couldn’t get her feet through with her ankles cuffed.

  Where was the man taking Elias? He’d said something about a fire, which made sense, if he planned to question them. Couldn’t build a fire down here, so he’d gone up, away from the wind and water, she guessed.

  She craned her neck, giving her eyes a split second to take it all in—the twenty-foot slab of rock she was stranded on, with an unconscious Deegan. It was stained dark with blood in some places and slanted down to the river that danced on as if nothing had changed when really the world hung in the balance. There. Her eyes narrowed in on something. A bump in the rock face that rose up from where they lay—not sharp as a knife, but certainly caveman worthy. A tool was a tool. Inchworming the few feet to it took much too long. By the time she’d made it, she smelled smoke.

  Already? The Brit would come back any second. Shit, shit, shit. Frantic, she lay flat on the rock, lifted her legs toward the protrusion in the rock face, and used it to saw at her bonds. A dozen times was all it took and her feet were free. Quickly, she drew one foot through her looped arms, then the other. Now the rock served to saw her hands. Done. Hands loose, she remained in a squat, spun in a circle, hoping that the man had left a weapon—her knife at the very least? Nothing.

  Something moved in her peripheral vision. Deegan? She stared for a few seconds, braced herself, and moved slowly in his direction, pausing for a stunned second.

  He, too, had been cuffed. She blinked in confusion. By his own teammate.

  What the hell? Was there infighting on the other side? Different groups banding together?

  It didn’t matter. She had to get to Elias, get him loose, and get the hell out of here. Now.

  But, first, she had to search Deegan.

  Hesitating for no more than a second, she steeled herself and patted him down, starting high. On her second pass, she rolled him over, ran frozen fingers up under his thick parka, grossed out by the contact but still enjoying the body heat, and encountered something blocky and hard. A whimper escaped her—a sound of sublime relief or deepest despair. Not daring to hope, she grasped, fumbled, and pulled, blinking for a few shocked seconds before recognizing it for what it was: a satellite phone. The holy grail.

  Call. Call now.

  No, run first, hide, gather weapons, then come back for Elias. She glanced up at the sky.

  Before reinforcements arrived.

  Chapter 38

  The giant was still shaking, though his skin had lost its blue tinge. Ash piled another sleeping bag on him and stood, casting a quick look round before stalking back toward the river’s edge. He needed to get these two away before the evac team descended upon them. Not easily done with an unconscious eighteen-stone man in tow.

  He was tired suddenly. To his very bones, in his marrow. Tired. So tired.

  This had to end. He needed answers. He needed to get back to Chronos. He pushed himself to pick up the pace as he neared the big slab of rock.

  Empty.

  The woman was gone. And so was Deegan.

  Shit. He wasn’t even surprised. This whole thing was a mess. Every bit of the mission, every move out here. If they’d only let him come in alone. My God, all the lives that could have been saved.

  Too late now.

  Quickly, he pulled out the bloody Glock he’d found at the crash site, eyeing the rocks for a few quick seconds before following the two wet pairs of footprints south, toward the waterfall.

  ***

  Leo picked her way along the river’s edge for fifty yards, the phone gripped tightly in one hand. Unsteadily, she climbed over soggy logs, trudged around rocks and branches and other debris, getting as far as she could from those two men. But also from Elias. Stumbling on the uneven shore, she slowed and took in her surroundings, already trying to figure out how she’d get to him. She’d work her way down along the water, then head back up into the woods and circle around to where that fire threw out smoke like a beacon. If she worked fast enough, she might even keep the element of surprise.

  She struggled on for another twenty yards or so. Here, the riverbank steepened and she had no choice but to go up higher into the rocks, closer to the sound of rushing water. The falls were right here.

  She’d left wet tracks on the stone surface behind her. If either of those men followed her, she’d be toast. Time to call. This was it—her one chance.

  She shimmied around the last outcropping of boulders and leaned back, shocked by the water’s spray from below, hitting her right in the face. In front of her was nothing but a twelve-foot slab of rock and then air. The waterfall they’d fought so hard to avoid.

  A dead end.

  My God. She’d jammed herself into a corner here. Craning her neck, she saw nothing but a sharp rock face above.

  “This is fine,” she muttered under her breath. “Everything’s fine.” Denial was the only thing keeping her upright.

  She focused in on the phone, stared hard. She needed a number. Any number. Her finger hit 9 and stopped. No. Not 911. Who knew who they’d send? She didn’t trust them. Anyone.

  Eric Cooper. Friend, teammate. One of the guys she’d trusted with her life. She dialed his number, her fingers like ten thumbs, and waited. Nothing happened. Again. She tried again. Still nothing.

  In the distance, something reverberated and though it was too far to hear, she knew with blood-curdling certainty that the helicopter was headed their way.

  The phone dropped to the ground, too heavy for her numb hand.

  Shit! She glanced around, then up at the smoke. It seemed thicker. A look back. No pursuit. Yet.

  She fumbled the phone up, tried again…nothing. Okay. Another number. Von’s. Her numb, trembling fingers hit the wrong number twice before she slowed.

  Voicemail. The generic kind because Von would never leave a physical record of himself. Anywhere.

  Shit, shit. Ans would be in Colorado by now, out of range, probably. She tried anyway. Nothing; more fucking voicemail.

  She sobbed. Her people, her team—always there for each other—and she couldn’t even get through.

  Concentrate. Who else? Who could she trust?

  The helo was louder, flying toward the river maybe? Or along it? The men must have locator beacons for reinforcements to be so near. When she tried to picture Elias and what was happening with him, desperation tried to hem her in. She shoved it back.

  Call. Now. Then get Elias. No more messing around.

  In that moment, unbidden, almost like a mirage in the desert, an image came to mind—her friend Angel, Ford’s girlfriend, who’d recently opened a nonprofit. A kitchen where low-income families learned to cook together. Familia was the name of it.

  Familia… The last six digits of the number spelled Family. She dialed, wincing at the helo’s approach. It was loud enough now that she didn’t just feel it in her bones, she actually heard it above the roar of the waterfall. Quite a feat, considering that the damn falls were right there. She pressed the phone tight enough to meld it to her ear, blocked her other ear, and listened. Was that ringing? No. Nothing. The line was dead.

  With a growl, she pressed the buttons again.

  “Familia, this is Abby.”

  “Ang—Sorry, Abby.” She couldn’t call her Angel. It was dangerous. Angel Smith had died as far as the world was concerned.

  “Uh…you must have the wrong—”

  “It’s Leo! Listen…” God, where to begin? Angel was too far to help, but at least she
could get a message out. “I can’t get through to anyone else and…” Shit, would Angel even hear her over the thunderous racket? “They’re closing in fast, but…” All she could do was give the information. Pass on what she knew. About Elias and the virus and… Crap, she couldn’t think! Couldn’t hear her own thoughts through the dull thud of pain and that sound!

  What did she need to tell her? If they died here. Right now, what did Eric and Ford and the others need to know? “It’s the virus.” She sucked in a breath. Her head pounded from the noise and her own yelling. “Shit! They’re coming. Listen, tell Eric. And Ford. Tell them all. There’s something about the virus you need to know.”

  Boom!

  A gunshot ripped through the air, the bullet shocking her with how near it was. What the hell? Where was that? She craned her neck to look up at the boulders behind her. Who was that?

  Phone tight in her shoulder, she yelled, “Ford was right about the virus. It’s deadly. But it can also cure cancer. The world needs it. It’s a miracle cure, but they want to use it to kill people and…They have it, Angel. They just don’t know it. It’s in the company’s… Angel? Angel?”

  Another crack, closer this time, startled her into dropping the phone. She reached for it and stopped halfway.

  “Who were you talking to, matey?” the big blond guy asked in a terrible Cockney accent, one hand on the phone, the other a rifle to his shoulder. “Never mind. I’ll just call back.”

  She reached for the phone, but it was too late. The rifle was already swinging for her head.

  Not again was her last cognizant thought before the lights went out.

  ***

  Ash got off a shot just as Deegan disappeared around a group of rocks. By his estimation he had two shots left. But it didn’t matter. He was too late, with the evac team rushing in to the rescue and now this. Deegan had the rifle. And wasn’t one to ask questions first. He was the take no prisoners type. The bloke who’d follow a mission to the letter, never thinking that maybe they’d been after the wrong man all along, working for the wrong people, selling their souls for the wrong reasons. He had to stop him. Had to stop the mayhem.

  Just as he set off again, something shifted behind him.

  He turned and came face-to-face with the giant.

  Just wonderful.

  ***

  Exploding into motion, Elias dropped to the river’s rocky edge.

  Anger made him rabid, more beast than man, his conscious mind gone, devoured by the need to kill. He didn’t feel a damn thing—not the pull in his side or the throbbing in his head, not the cold or the rocks under his feet. He couldn’t feel where the cuffs’ plastic had melted against his wrists from the heat of the fire. He didn’t let fear touch him either, though it had been there seconds earlier, as he’d watched the dark-haired man shoot at Leo.

  All he knew as he attacked was rage. Sharp, piercing, hot enough to burn it all down.

  He punched the asshole’s face, crunching bone, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted to grind it to a powder. Killing the man wouldn’t suffice. He needed to obliterate him, dismantle him into his smallest possible pieces, until there was nothing left but a smudge.

  “Stop!” the man yelled, backing up a step, Glock up, arms steady. “I’m on your team, I’m with you.”

  Was that Leo’s gun? “Nobody’s with me.”

  The man’s eyes flicked to the side. “The woman appears to be.”

  “She’s it.” His nostrils flared with emotion. “If you’ve killed her, then I’ll—”

  “Who are you?”

  “Who the fuck wants to know?” Elias circled left, the gun trained on him every second of the way.

  “An interested party.”

  Elias narrowed his eyes. “Interested?”

  “I’m not with them.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Look, mate, I’m not with Chronos. I’m intelligence. I know about the virus. I know what it can do. I’ve been after this thing for—”

  Fury bubbled up.

  “You shot her.”

  “I didn’t. No. No, I shot at Deegan, not your…” The man held the weapon to the side, loose in one hand. “I didn’t aim for her. I swear on my…my daughter’s—”

  Elias pounced.

  The guy was quick. Without hesitation, he kicked low, just missed Elias’s knee, and shot back up, delivering a quick uppercut to his chin. Strong, too.

  Elias’s head snapped back, he saw stars…and, above, the helicopter.

  Fucking helicopter.

  Another shot rang out—not from the man this time. From above?

  Elias shook his head to clear it, noting in a distant sort of way that they’d moved downriver, toward the falls’ endless bellowing. They weren’t yards away from the fucking thing—they were almost on it. Leo had disappeared. Where? Around the next bend? She couldn’t have fallen in. She couldn’t be dead.

  Head down, eyes steady, he eased to one side, circling the man, spinning on his own axis, putting his back downstream.

  “I’m not with them,” the man said. “Let me help you.” The man’s eyes shifted. “He’s still there. Deegan. We need to take him down, together.”

  Elias was slow, exhausted, and hurt, waterlogged, cold. His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on the guy, but he could damage him. He could tear him apart, maybe throw him in the river. And then he’d move on to the next obstacle between him and Leo. That was it. All that mattered. One down. Another to go.

  He attacked. The man swung wide, and Elias dipped, sunk his fist into hard solar plexus. His knuckles hurt almost pleasurably.

  This time when the man kicked, he was ready. He blocked it with his own leg, the pain of connecting shinbones electrifying. The shock resonated on the other man’s face, there and gone. Instantly replaced with grim determination.

  The man wasn’t big, but he was fast. And he could take a hit. Ulnas collided, arms swung. Fists missed…and then got their targets with bone-crunching pain.

  Elias couldn’t feel it, wouldn’t give himself the luxury. Quick swing, dip, lunge to the side. The man grabbed his hand and twisted. Elias wrenched away and sent an elbow up, curled, came back with a roundhouse to the side of his head. The man lunged to one side, Elias to the other, out of breath, his throat raw, chest heavy and tight, but driven by this hunger to hurt. This rage.

  A thrust, a parry, and they’d rounded the last outcropping of rocks before the falls hit them with spray and sound.

  “Elias!”

  Where was that coming from? He shook his head to clear it. That definitely wasn’t Leo’s voice. He twisted. She was on the ground in a crumpled heap, just a few feet from the edge. Deegan stood over her.

  “Give us a shot!” the voice yelled again from above.

  A shot?

  He wanted to glance up but didn’t dare look away from the two men, one to his left and slightly behind, the other upriver, on his right. Both were armed. He didn’t stand a chance.

  “They yours?” the smaller, dark-haired man with the English accent yelled above the din, his eyes flicking up at the aircraft, then back down again.

  “Aren’t they yours?” His head swam, his vision dark at the edges.

  “No.” The man looked at something over Elias’s shoulder. “Behind you.”

  Before he even turned, he knew it was too late.

  The other guy—the big blond one—kicked his feet out from under him, sending him down, knees connecting hard, then palms sliding on wet stone, legs dangling in thin air, hands grasping at the slippery rock. He slid slowly, then fast, his feet finding no purchase, the water splashing him from below.

  His fingers dug in hard. His body stopped moving. He looked up.

  The blond man swung a rifle up over his shoulder like a baseball bat.

  On the downswing, Elias tightened ever
y muscle in his body, preparing for the end.

  ***

  Ash shot Deegan through the head, then lowered the gun and double-tapped him in the heart. The man’s body took a slow tumble into the falls. His biggest regret, now that his hand had been forced, was that he hadn’t killed the idiot days ago. He didn’t bother asking any of those fickle gods why they’d save this man’s life and take his little girl’s. Questions like that led to nothing but pain. No such thing as fairness in this world.

  Someone shot at him from the helicopter. Wonderful. That would complicate things.

  Without waiting for the body to topple, he ducked, rushed to the edge and dropped to his knees, reaching with both hands. “You’ve got a foothold on the left. It’s a reach,” he yelled. But if anyone could make it, it was this man.

  Pulse hammering, he watched as the giant swung just a bit left… His bare foot caught the ledge, slipped, and then held.

  Ash let out a long, slow breath.

  “Come on. You’ve got it.” He didn’t look at the aircraft, though he wondered why its occupants had stopped shooting. The man’s foot found purchase and he was up, one hand in Ash’s, climbing fast and hard until he stood, towering over him.

  “Told you I’m not your enemy.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Can’t tell you that, mate.”

  The man moved aside and another shot cracked a bloody centimeter from Ash’s foot. Ducking, he spun, sought cover, and eyed the aircraft. They weren’t shooting at the giant, he realized, but him.

  He crouched behind the outcropping of rock, hoping his proximity to the woman would keep them from firing at him again.

  “I’d better be going,” he said, leaning to the side with a quick look down. Ignoring his distaste at the idea of following Deegan’s corpse, he noted the pool at the base of the falls, white with froth. Possibly deep, then again, maybe not. If he jumped far enough out, he’d just make it. “That’s your team up there. Not mine,” he called, watching the giant’s face go through a series of expressions—from that adrenaline-crazed look to indecision and finally some kind of understanding. “Tell them to stop.”