by Linda Howard
He dragged it out from behind the lawn chairs, and his heart sank. This wasn’t much of a ladder. For one thing, it wouldn’t reach all the way to Lolly’s window. For another, it was wooden, and it was old. The rungs weren’t in good shape; two were broken, and he wasn’t at all sure any of the others would hold his weight. But Lolly didn’t weigh as much as he did and she was the one who’d be on it, so maybe it would hold together long enough for her to climb down. If not … then he hoped she’d bounce. No, hell, he’d have to catch her, he thought sourly. The way his luck was running, if he didn’t catch her she’d probably fall on him and break his leg, or a few ribs.
Maybe Lolly had some other way of climbing down—the old sheets-tied-together rope, for instance. If she was making preparations to escape, then she definitely had something in mind. Maybe the ladder wouldn’t be needed. He sure as hell hoped not, because it was a half-rotten death trap.
But as he was hauling the ladder from the garage to the house, he looked up at the window again and saw Lolly tugging on the window frame with all her might, trying to wrest it open. She stopped, got another grip, and tried again. From what he could see the window hadn’t budged an inch.
Swearing again, but this time silently, he revised his plan. He’d have to go up and raise the damn window. No matter how she’d planned to get to the ground, she wasn’t going anywhere unless she could get out the window. He sent up a silent prayer. Maybe the ladder would hold together.
He had to look up to position the ladder and the icy rain felt directly on his face, in his eyes. A sudden gust of wind caught the ladder, almost tearing it from his grip. Getting the ladder propped against the house without making any noise was going to be tricky. Just in case, he mentally ran through the operation: the objective was to get up the ladder without falling and breaking his neck, open the window, get down the ladder without falling and breaking his neck, and position himself beneath the ladder so he could catch Lolly if she fell, so she wouldn’t break her neck. Simple enough.
Oh, yeah: he had to do all that in something like five seconds flat without making any noise and alerting the two meth addicts in the living room.
No problem, he thought sarcastically. Piece of cake.
He stood the ladder up, holding it steady with both hands as he let it drop closer and closer to the house, until it settled below the window with a barely audible thunk. It must have sounded louder inside the house, though, because he saw Lolly jump back from the window as if someone had just smacked the glass. Damn it, the ladder ended a good three feet below the window casing, which meant he’d have to climb all the way to the top to have any leverage opening the window.
There was no point in delaying, so he firmly gripped the outside of the ladder and began climbing, placing his boots on the outside edges of the rungs, where they were nailed to the frame and less likely to crumble under his weight. In just a few seconds he was standing precariously on the top rung, praying like hell, and staring through the glass at Lolly Helton, who stared at him as if she couldn’t decide whether to scream or faint.
She didn’t do either, thank God. Instead he saw her lips move, framing his name, then she closed her eyes for a brief second before gathering herself.
When she opened her eyes again, Gabriel held a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. She nodded, an obvious and telling relief washing across her face.
She’d managed to raise the window a little, after all. He worked his gloved fingers into the gap and tried to lift upward, but there was only the slightest bit of movement. The window hadn’t been painted stuck, and it wasn’t locked, but the old wood had warped to the point where it might as well have been. Tensing his muscles, he tried again, putting everything he had into the effort and hoping that the howl of the wind would cover the noise he made. The ladder wobbled but he ignored the precariousness of his perch and wrenched at the window again. He had to get Lolly out of the house; if he fell, then he fell. He’d deal with that when it happened.
On the third try, the window popped free and slid upward with a creaking sound. He shoved and wiggled the frame, gaining another few inches of clearance. The window wasn’t all the way up, but maybe this was enough.
In a quick glance he took in the room behind her; the bed was stripped, and sure enough one end of a sheet was knotted around the leg. Then he looked at her, and for the first time saw that one side of her face was bruised and swollen. Fury roared through him, swift and deep and startlingly savage. Some asshole abusing a woman pushed all his buttons, but somehow the fact that this was Lolly hit him particularly hard. He reined in his anger, because this wasn’t the time to lose control. He had to get her safely away from here; that was his primary goal. Much as he’d love to take on the jerks downstairs, they were armed and he wasn’t … and right now the weather was damn near as dangerous as two armed, high druggies. His only concern had to be getting Lolly and himself off the mountain. Everything else could wait.
Besides, he wasn’t going to recklessly put his life in danger when he had a little boy expecting his father to come home. They were probably already missing him, wondering what was taking so long.
“I saw two in the living room,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Are there more?”
She shook her head. “Just those two.” Her voice was as low as his.
He reached through the open window and cupped her bruised cheek in his hand; his glove was cold and wet, and it must have felt good on her face because she made a soft little moan and tilted her head against the leather. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, needing to know if she could make it down the ladder by herself. She’d been getting around okay, but adrenaline could be driving her; he’d seen people do some amazing things when they were riding an adrenaline high.
“My shoulder and side are bruised, but I’m okay,” she replied in a whisper, squaring her shoulders. She added fiercely, “Let’s get out of here.”
She had covered as much skin as possible, he saw; even her head and her ears were lightly protected with some folded material, and a flannel shirt tied over that. She’d layered her clothing and judging by the length of sheet in her hand she was making a pretty well-planned escape. If the window hadn’t been stuck, she might’ve been on the ground and well on her way to town by the time he’d found her.
She dropped the rope of sheets and blankets and started to put one leg out the window. “Wait,” he said, thinking fast. If she tossed the rope out the window and left it hanging, and he put the ladder away after she was down, the assholes downstairs would believe she’d made it out on her own. That way if they were stupid enough to get out in the storm and come after her, they’d be caught by surprise if—or when—they discovered that she was not alone. Just as swiftly he disregarded the plan, because the bottom sheet would be flapping right in front of the dining room window, and might alert them sooner than necessary. He was holding his breath hoping they didn’t see the ladder through the window; at least the aged wood was dark, and not as easily made out as a white sheet would be.
He surveyed Lolly once more. She’d done the best she could to dress warmly, but the rain would seep right through all those layers, and then she’d be in deep trouble.
Moving carefully, the rickety ladder wobbling under him, Gabriel removed his poncho and handed it through the window. Lolly took it, then gave him a sharp look. “What about you?”
“You need it more. At least my coat is weatherproof.” The poncho was covered with ice crystals, but provided much better protection against the rain than what she was wearing. His coat was heavy, he had gloves, and his feet were protected by warm, waterproof boots. The only problem was that the knit cap he wore wasn’t waterproof, like the cap he’d discarded in the truck, but he hadn’t known then he’d be giving the hooded poncho to Lolly. The knit would repel the rain for a while, but eventually his head was going to get wet, and that wasn’t good. When they got to the truck he’d retrieve his cap; he could make it that far without too m
uch risk of hypothermia.
“I’m going back down,” he whispered. “This ladder is half rotten, and it won’t hold both of us at the same time.” He wasn’t certain it would stay together long enough for him to get down, but if it didn’t, they’d go back to plan A and the tied-together sheets. “There are two broken rungs. One is halfway down, the other is three below it. Put your feet on the outside of the rungs, not in the middle.”
Lolly nodded, and began pulling on the poncho over her layers of clothing. Gabriel carefully backed down the ladder, not taking a deep breath until his boots were safely on the icy ground again. He turned up the collar of his jacket to protect his neck from the wind, and positioned himself so he could brace the ladder. She stuck her head out to make certain he was on the ground, then quickly drew it back in and stuck one leg out the window, feeling with her foot for the top rung. She couldn’t reach it, of course, because the ladder wasn’t tall enough. Finally she sat on the windowsill, put both legs out, and turned until she was on her stomach. She found the ladder, set both feet on it, and cautiously moved down the creaking wood. She was favoring her right side, he noticed, and wondered how she’d hold up for the long hike off the mountain.
The walk, which would be treacherous because of the ice, would take hours. In normal circumstances he wouldn’t even attempt it, but the circumstances weren’t normal and the only other choice they had was to simply hide and wait … but wait for what? The meth addicts in the living room were stuck, too; they weren’t going anywhere, and at least they were in a warm house. He and Lolly couldn’t wait for the ice to melt, because that could take a week or more. Their best bet, and it wasn’t a good one, but it was better than their other options, was to get off the mountain as fast as they could, before the weight of the ice started snapping tree limbs like toothpicks. They’d be warmer if they were moving, too.
“Watch for that missing rung,” he warned in an urgent whisper just before she reached it, and her step faltered. She hesitated, then changed her rhythm and instead used her right foot to step past the missing rung, so she could bear most of her weight with her left shoulder instead of the bruised right one.
A splintering sound was the only warning he had, before the next rung gave way, too, and she came tumbling down.
It wasn’t a long drop, but in these conditions and with the hike they had ahead of them, a sprained ankle was as good as a broken leg. Instinctively Gabriel let go of the ladder and grabbed Lolly in a bear hug before she could hit the ground. The ladder clattered and banged against the side of the house.
“Shit!” he said, setting Lolly on her feet and grabbing her wrist. There was almost no chance the two inside hadn’t heard the ladder slamming against the house. They needed to move—now.
“Let’s go,” he said, and started across the icy yard at a fast clip, towing her behind him. She didn’t make a sound of protest, just put her head down and did her best to keep up. They slipped and slid, but he kept his feet; once Lolly started sliding, but she regained her balance, aided by his grip on her wrist. If they could just make the tree line …
There was a shout behind them, and a shot rang out.
Double shit.
Chapter Six
Lolly went down with a cry of pain, and for one stark split-second time froze as Gabriel thought she’d been shot. Then she was scrambling to her feet, muttering “Damn it!” with muffled fury before grabbing his hand and taking off again. She fell again, almost immediately; the thick treads on his boots didn’t afford him a lot of traction, but her sneakers had almost none.
Gabriel hauled her to her feet once more; she stifled another cry of pain, and too late he realized he’d pulled on her right arm, and her injured right shoulder. To keep her upright, he wrapped his arm around her and held her, his grip so hard he expected her to protest, but she didn’t make a peep. Running in that locked-together position was impossible, unless they wanted to end up facedown on the ground while the two meth-heads took potshots at them. Their best bet was to keep moving, no matter how agonizingly slow their progress seemed to be.
At least it was dark up here, away from the lights of town and other houses; hiding would be easier. Of course, that meant they had to be extra cautious themselves, because he couldn’t turn on the flashlight without pinning a bull’s-eye on their backs. All he could do was keep moving, get them into the trees, and hope for the best.
Even though she’d spent the last hour—two hours? She had no idea how much time had passed—in terror, expecting to be killed, somehow the first explosive crack of a gunshot still caught Lolly by surprise; her entire body lurched, and her heart jumped so hard it felt as if it would come out of her chest. She stumbled, lost her balance on the icy grass, and went down. Cold immediately seared her legs. The poncho somewhat protected her, but from mid-thigh down her pants were wet. After all the effort she’d made to stay dry, what did she do but fall on the wet ground the very first thing? Furious with herself, she scrambled up, grabbed Gabriel’s hand, and took off running again.
And immediately fell again.
This time Gabriel jerked her to her feet, and the pressure on her bruised shoulder and side wrenched a cry from her before she stubbornly shut her mouth. What was a little pain in her shoulder compared to maybe getting shot? Gabriel clamped his arm around her waist and set off again, all but dragging her along with him.
Behind them, the porch light flared on, and the front door opened with a pop and a slam; the first shot must have been through the dining room window if they were just now making it out on the porch. Niki and Darwin began firing from the porch; their aim was off, but every cell in her spinal cord seemed to shrivel as she waited for a lucky shot to find her. Again, time seemed to have lost its meaning; logically only ten or fifteen seconds could have passed, because how long could it have taken them to get to the porch? It felt as if she and Gabriel had been running for the woods for a lifetime, but they were still several yards away. Lolly was afraid to turn and look at the porch, afraid to do anything except try to keep her feet under her and make as much progress as she could.
Don’t fall, don’t fall. Instinct screamed at her to run, but even with Gabriel’s support it was all she could do to keep her feet under her. They were still on grass, which wasn’t nearly as slick as the driveway would be, but every step sent her feet slipping and skating in various directions. Gabriel fared better, maybe because of his boots, maybe because he was heavier and crunched through the layer of ice to the ground. Don’t fall. She clutched the back of his coat in a death grip, hanging on for dear life.
Then they reached the tree line and Gabriel whirled, shoving her behind one of the larger trees and pressing himself full against her as if he were trying to push her into the rough bark. Lolly clung to him, her head buried against his shoulder as she sucked in huge, rapid gulps of air. Random shots splintered the air, the sound curiously flat and muffled, as if it was absorbed by the ice instead of echoing back. Her heart still pounded like something wild, even though they were significantly safer behind this tree trunk than they had been before. But what now? If they ran, they’d be exposed again, at least sporadically. If they didn’t run, then all Niki and Darwin had to do was walk across the yard to shoot them at close range.
Gabriel incrementally leaned to the left, until he could see the house but still presented almost no target, given they were in the darkness of the tree line and Niki and Darwin were hampered by standing on a lighted porch. Even knowing they likely couldn’t see a thing, Lolly’s hands involuntarily tightened on Gabriel’s coat as she tried to wrench him back to safety. She couldn’t move him at all, not even a fraction of an inch.
His right hand patted her shoulder, the movement so absent she knew the reassuring gesture was pure reflex. He was concentrating on the situation, on the two murderous idiots on the front porch. Feeling slightly ashamed for being such a wuss, Lolly forced herself to release him. She’d gotten this far without turning into a spineless blob; she’d make it
the rest of the way, or die trying … literally.
“How many weapons did you see?” He breathed the words, the sound barely existent.
“Two.” That didn’t mean there weren’t more, though. For all she knew, there was a cache of weapons in their old Blazer.
“Do you know guns?” he asked.
She shook her head. She knew what a shotgun looked like, because her dad had gone skeet shooting, but her experience was limited to that and whatever she’d seen on television or in a movie.
“Can you tell the difference between a revolver and an automatic?”
That much she did know. “They were both automatics … I think. I didn’t get a good look at the one he had.” Darwin had pulled it from his pocket, but she’d barely had time to register the fact before he’d shoved her against the newel post.
“I don’t suppose you could tell me how many bullets they had in each gun,” he said wryly.
Lolly just shook her head, even though the question had been rhetorical. Had he actually been counting the number of shots? She’d barely been able to think at all, much less keep track of how many shots were being fired.
Then the gunshots stopped, and that was almost more frightening than being shot at. What was happening? Were Niki and Darwin coming after them? She could hear the two of them yelling at each other. She could also hear her own heartbeat, Gabriel’s breathing, and the wind. At this moment, there was nothing else.
“What are we going to do now?” she whispered. Her voice was all but lost against his thick coat, but Gabriel heard her and gave her another of those absent pats.
“We’re going down the mountain. There’s nothing else we can do, no other option.” He didn’t sound happy about that, but she couldn’t think of anything else they could do, either. She’d been prepared to make her way down the mountain alone, anyway, so she wasn’t going to complain.