“Out?”
He shifted as if uncomfortable to be talking about himself. “I grew up in northern California. Up near Lake Shasta. There’s not much money there. Tourism is the only industry, and the people who come mostly camp, maybe want to go out on the lake. We lived in an old trailer.” Will fell silent for a minute, lines forming on his forehead. “I don’t suppose it was anything like your background.”
Maddy wanted to lie but couldn’t. What was the point? “No, my mom’s a school principal. Dad works at Microsoft. I know I was lucky.” More than that, she realized. She’d lived in the protective bubble that privilege gave you until a gunman popped it in an instant.
“Will you go to college now?” she finally asked.
He gazed out at the darkening view across the V-shaped valley. “I got my degree while I served.” His shoulders moved. “Part-time when I was in the States, some long-distance.”
“You worked a lot harder for it than I did mine, then,” Maddy said. “I had it easy.” Funny, she’d never thought of it that way before.
He glanced at her briefly but turned his head away before she could meet his eyes. “That’s one way to look at it.”
The dry way he said that left her with no idea how to respond. He didn’t give her a chance anyway.
“I’ll take first turn at using the facilities. Then it’s your turn,” he said, and moved the branches at the entrance enough to crawl out. Despite his purpose, he carried both his binoculars and that ugly black handgun with him.
She couldn’t decide if that was more reassuring, or worrisome.
Chapter Five
During his years in the military, Will had learned to set an internal alarm. Awake a couple of hours before dawn, he reluctantly edged out from under a still-sleeping Maddy. Last night he’d shifted the most important things to his pack, stowing nonessentials including extra clothes and the two books he’d brought to join some of what was in her duffel. He’d reluctantly decided to leave the duffel here. He needed a hand free to support her while he used the ice ax to stabilize them.
After lacing up his boots, he had pain pills and water bottle in his hand when he woke her.
Her moan worried him. He’d thought during the night that she radiated too much heat. He’d give a lot to be able to start her on antibiotics.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, “have a bite to eat now.”
Uncomplaining, she took the bag of granola he handed her and scooped out a handful. He heard her crunching as he wedged her feet into her boots, made sure her socks were pulled up so no wrinkle would give her a blister, and tightened the laces.
“How’s the knee feel?” he asked in a low voice.
She bent and straightened that leg. “Sore,” she whispered, “but not like my arm and shoulder.”
“Good. When we stop later, I want to apply more antibiotic ointment on your gashes and replace dressings.” He laid a hand on her forehead and winced. “I think you have a fever.”
Her soft, huffing sound might have been a laugh. “Normally, I’d know because my joints would ache and I’d have a headache, but now...” She moved. Probably a one-shoulder shrug.
Will felt a violent dislike for what he was going to have to put her through. He needed to get her to a hospital, but wasn’t so sure he dared even if—once—they reached his Jeep. He thought of a buddy, a doctor, who’d gotten out six months before he did. Javier would probably be willing to call in an antibiotic prescription in Will’s name. That was the first essential.
When Maddy said stoutly, “I’m ready,” he helped her scoot forward until they were in the open.
The moon had sunk low in the sky, but still cast a silver light across the landscape. That was good in one way, bad in another.
They parted to empty their bladders. By the time she fumbled her way back around the boulder, he’d settled his pack on his back, careful to stow the Glock in an accessible pocket. Not as good as a holster, but the best he could do.
Then they started what would be an agonizingly slow descent of a hillside that had Class-3 pitches—real climbs—here and there. He hoped the men hunting them weren’t early risers.
* * *
MADDY RELEASED AIR in a slow hiss. How could she possibly do this? But with Will helping support her weight, she skidded down another rocky plunge until she could grab a tree limb.
The sky grew lighter by infinitesimal degrees, from that faintly moon-touched black to a deep gray, allowing her to see the closest trees and where she needed to put her feet next. She swore Will was part mountain goat, the way he picked his way along without dislodging small rocks or slipping. Maddy crunched and skidded on loose rocks, however hard she tried to be quiet. Her knee was both painful and stiff. The rest of her hurt so much that by the time the sky turned pearlescent with dawn she had become an automaton. Her head throbbed viciously, and agony radiated from what must be the break in her collarbone. Probably every movement scraped the broken ends together. Once, she surfaced to realize she’d closed her eyes, her only guidance the big hand on her elbow and an occasional murmur.
“Big step down here.” Or, “There’s a tree to your right. Grab hold.”
Maddy forced her eyes open, feeling immediate alarm at how bright the sky was. The sun would surely be over the ridge in minutes. She and Will couldn’t possibly have gotten far yet.
But she lost even that thought beneath the pain. Another step and she’d tell him she had to rest. Yet, somehow she kept her mouth clamped shut so she couldn’t beg him to stop. He knew how much she hurt, and why they had to keep moving. A couple of times he’d made quiet, pained sounds after a whimper escaped her.
Maybe she’d rather die. The idea became increasingly enticing. She’d just lie down. It wouldn’t be so bad, and Will could go on.
“I won’t leave you.”
She must have been thinking aloud. God, had she been begging, too, while she thought she was being stoic?
He spoke close to her ear. “We’ll reach better tree cover soon. Just hang on, Maddy.”
She wished he’d called her sweetheart again. She’d liked that. It sounded...tender.
Gunfire erupted, shocking her out of her dream state.
Will swore, picked her up and plunged downward. They fell onto their butts and rocketed down a drop-off at terrifying speed, ricocheting off small firs. Maddy thought she was screaming, but it didn’t matter, did it? Not when the enemy already knew where they were.
They slammed to a stop against a larger tree trunk than any she’d seen. Dazed, Maddy saw Will assessing her before he pulled her to her feet again.
“We have to keep going.”
“They’re shooting at us.”
“Yeah.” He half lifted her again with an arm around her waist to lower her over another drop. “They were either out of range, or lousy shots.”
The evergreens surrounding them were taller, she realized in what small part of her brain wasn’t occupied by fear or agony. Unfortunately, the steep pitch hadn’t eased into something a sane human being would consider for a grueling hike.
Will kept her going, the steady pressure of her hand relentless; the hard cast of his face merciless.
Once, she tried to sag to the ground, mumbling, “I can’t...”
“You can.” His arm felt like an iron bar on her waist as he refused to let her stop, or even slow.
She vaguely became aware that, while still heading downward, the route he’d chosen took them at an angle. Maddy slowly worked out that straight down would have been too obvious.
The sound of running water came from ahead.
“We’ll stop here for a few minutes,” he said, his grip easing as he lowered her to a seat on a slab of rock.
Maddy stared at the stream, if you could call it that when it looked more like a string of small waterfalls strung together.
; “Runoff from the glacier on McMillan Peak.” Will pressed something into her hand. A candy bar. He’d already ripped open the wrapper for her.
Once he was satisfied she was eating, he dug out the gallon jug and refilled it, dropping something in—a tablet? He put it away and tore open what she thought might be one of the energy bars from the plane.
“I could have eaten that,” she said.
His sharp gaze caught her. “Sugar will give you a lift.”
She nodded, not up to arguing. “Are they right behind us?”
“I don’t think so. They were firing from well above us. I doubt they were willing to throw themselves down the mountain the way we did. Once we were out of sight, tracking us won’t be easy, either. Ground is too rocky.” He paused for another bite. “I’m hoping they don’t have any backcountry experience. Bringing sleeping bags and freeze-dried meals doesn’t mean they’re good with rock pitches.”
When he saw that she was done with the candy bar, he made her take some swallows from the water bottle. It tasted funny, probably from whatever he’d used to treat it.
Then he unbuttoned her shirt, peeled it off and examined both the splint and the lump on her collarbone that was the furnace forcing pain through all her ducts.
Gently putting her back together, he said, “I’m sorry I had to be so rough. You have a new raw place on your elbow—” he was looking at a tear in the flannel of the shirt as he eased it back on her good arm “—and a lot of new bruises.”
“You’re bleeding,” she heard herself say.
Will glanced dismissively down at the trickle of blood coming from his skinned elbow. “It’s nothing.” He looked into her eyes. “Can you keep going? I could leave the pack and carry you piggyback.”
And cover the same ground twice? Plus, increase the risk of being seen? “No. I can do it.”
* * *
HE COULD HAVE killed them, throwing them down the mountainside the way he had. Forget bullets. What he’d done was crazy, especially hauling an injured woman along with him. This canyonside had stretches too steep to traverse, never mind descend at a run. What if he’d leaped off a pitch so steep he couldn’t control the descent at all?
Eventually, as his pulse slowed and his hands steadied, Will watched Maddy.
People tended to lump together courage and heroism, but they weren’t the same thing at all. The person who ran into a burning building to pull someone out often said, “I didn’t think about the risks.” Heroism was often impulse. Courage, in contrast, could be stoic. It was doing what had to be done, no matter the pain or personal suffering.
He had seen courage to equal Maddy’s, but not often.
Reason said they needed to cover as much ground as possible, but when wounded, humans tended to have the same instincts as wild animals. Find a safe place and hide. That was what she’d done initially, and then it had been the best thing she could do. Now, when they needed to move fast, instead of reverting to instinct, she had trusted him absolutely. Will wished he deserved that trust. Truth was, they’d been damn lucky.
What grated him was that he’d known the bullets were falling short. Sure, they’d needed to open some distance between them and the gunmen, but they hadn’t had to take what could have been a suicidal plunge. He hadn’t quite flashed back to war, but he’d come too close.
Forget the self-recrimination, he told himself. Focus. He had to get them out of this wilderness before the hired killers spotted them again.
After studying his topographical map last night, Will had made the decision to take a southwest path in the general direction of Azure Lake, nestled below McMillan Spire, although he felt sure they were now at a lower elevation than the lake. If he’d taken them east, the drop toward the creek was less precipitous, but he feared it might be more open. With a little more luck, the men hunting them would expect them to go that way. With his chosen route, he and Maddy would have to struggle along Stetattle Creek for a greater distance, but they’d have a better chance of staying hidden in the thickets along the creek than they would on the steep drop from the ridge.
Maddy didn’t argue, didn’t question him, just stumbled along with his help. By early afternoon, though, she was even slower. Will had a bad feeling she was having to tell herself she could take one more step. That might be all that kept her going.
When she seemed to balk at one point, he turned to find her swaying, her eyes glassy.
They had to stop.
Will looked around. No talus slope, like the one where they’d huddled last night. With the drop in elevation, the fir and hemlock were tall enough to block any view from a distance, however, and an especially thick clump just below them drew him.
“Maddy, we’ll spend the night right there.” He pointed.
She followed the direction he pointed with a dull gaze, but nodded and managed to take the next step under her own volition.
The trick once they were enclosed in the grove was to find anywhere flat enough to lie down. Reaching for the sky, the trees grew at a sharp angle from the still steep mountainside. He spotted what he thought was a particularly wide trunk but then realized was two trees that had sprouted at nearly the same time and grown together. Dirt and crumbled rock had been dammed up behind the dual trunks. Will used the head of his ice ax to scrape out an area large enough for them both to lie down.
He could have gone on, but was still grateful to lower his pack to the ground, and grimaced at the stab of pain in his hip. When he checked the watch tucked into an outer pocket, he realized they’d started out almost ten hours ago. It was a miracle Maddy had stayed on her feet that long, particularly in such difficult terrain. He was forced to accept how slow their pace would continue to be, too. He could have whacked his way down to Diablo in a day, but with Maddy... He shook his head. They’d be looking at a minimum of two more days, maybe three, he feared.
As if she had no will left, Maddy had stopped when he stopped, not even sagging to the ground. He hastily spread his thin pad and atop it the sleeping bag, then gently guided her to sit down. Will dug painkillers and water out of his packet.
“Swallow these.”
She stared at the three pills in her hand for a long moment before tipping them into her mouth and taking the bottle from him to wash them down.
“That’s good. Those will help.” He removed the water bottle from her hand and dumped some dried fruit in her palm. “Now eat.”
He didn’t see any more comprehension when she gazed at the dried banana and pineapple slices, but after a minute she did begin to nibble.
He followed that up with peanuts and more water. A hot meal would be good, but she needed sleep first.
Maddy moaned when he helped her lie down, pillowing her head on his balled-up parka and covering her with the blanket. She still looked so miserable, so he wadded up a sweatshirt under her injured arm, providing extra support.
Startlingly soon, her breathing deepened and evened out, and he saw that she was asleep.
* * *
HE TOOK THE chance of leaving her and climbed up to a crag he’d noticed earlier. Lying atop it, Will’s view was still partially impeded by forest, but he scanned with his binoculars for any hint of other humans. A red-tailed hawk swooped from above and disappeared into trees. Apparently having decided he was harmless, a chipmunk darted over the rock not five feet from him.
That was it. Will hated not knowing where the enemy was. He’d give a lot for a crackling voice in his ear offering intel, but he and Maddy were completely on their own. You mean you’re on your own. He rejected the voice. She was out of it right now, but all he had to do was remember the way she’d faced him down at first meeting. Despite having survived the crash and suffering significant injuries, she had done a lot of smart things. He hoped like hell that, once she’d had some rest, they would be able to talk.
If her fever continued to mount...
He shook off the worry. The same goal remained: get them off this mountainside, through the alder-and willow-choked jungle that protected the stream, to his Jeep parked in Diablo. Even if she was raving out of her head by then, could he risk taking her to a hospital?
Worry about that when it came.
He was trying not to doubt her story. Too much aligned with it, from the plane crash to her possession of a gun she didn’t know how to use, and finally to the well-equipped men dropped from the helicopter.
Will thought he could keep her away from them. What scared him was the possibility she’d die from her injuries or a resulting infection before he could get her to safety. But in reality he had no way to call for a rescue helicopter anyway.
Right now he’d feel better to be watching over her.
* * *
MADDY SO DIDN’T want to wake up. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried desperately to call back the dream that had thinned like a cloud until it no longer had any substance.
The pain was white-hot.
But her nose twitched, because something smelled good, and despite the fact that her entire body hurt now, she was hungry.
With a groan, she pried open her eyelids, blinking several times before her eyes adjusted to a beam of sunlight that found her between tree limbs.
Just past her feet, Will was bent over the single-burner camp stove he’d used last night to heat water he added to freeze-dried meals. Last night’s had been a chicken and rice curry, which had tasted wonderful. Or, at least, like real food. Tonight...
“Stew?” she guessed, her voice croaking.
He lifted his head and smiled. “Yep. I was about to wake you up.”
“My stomach did it for you.” She started the awkward process of sitting up.
Will immediately rose and offered his hand. As he tugged her up, she bit back a whimper.
“Why am I getting worse instead of better?” she exclaimed. “I hurt all over now. Even my stomach, but especially my legs and feet.”
Brace For Impact (HQR Intrigue) Page 6