“You get ready. I’m going to put something around your arm to stop the bleeding.”
“Steph— ”
“I can still hear both machines. Both are still moving. We have time.”
Jack sighed. “Fine. Do it.”
“Jeez. You act like me wanting you not to bleed to death is a federal offense.”
He smiled. “Not a federal offense. And you’re right.” He adjusted his position to allow the rifle to lie steadily across the rocks as he held it with his right hand.
Steph ripped his undershirt open at the cut. The wound was a perfect slice, like something done by a knife instead of a bullet. Steph had her Wilderness First Responder cert, which included Stop the Bleed and other trauma care, including immediate gunshot wound treatment.
Not that she’d ever seen a GSW in real life. Only videos and photos for the classes as they went over how to treat what they were seeing.
But it was obvious this wasn’t a penetrating wound. It was bleeding heavily and had gone through the meaty part of his outer bicep, and no doubt hurt like the dickens, but she didn’t think there was bone or artery involved. She pulled out a compression bandage and applied it over the shirt.
“Your cheek’s bleeding too.” She grabbed a package of ointment and a gauze square. “Rock shrapnel hit you.”
“Yeah. It stings.”
She dabbed at the cut, cleaning it with gauze. “I’m going to put a bandage on it.”
As she finished, the sound of the snowmobiles changed to an idle. They were there, at the base of the rocks.
Jack looked in her direction.
She shook her head. “Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe they’re both coming.”
Meeting her gaze, he gave a nod. “They might.”
Chapter 38
Jack
Jack had built a career on pushing his body to the edge on skis and then forcing it into calm precision in an instant. He knew how to hammer his lungs and legs, then slow his heartbeat, steady his hands, and focus on the tiny black targets downrange.
As a biathlete, he had been among the best until the career-ending injury. He realized now that every grueling race, every freezing morning of training, every aching muscle had brought him to this point.
Targets and seconds, that was the game. Every miss added a loop, every sprint risked a shaking shot. But out here, the scoreboard didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Steph and keeping her safe. That was it.
She had proven she could take care of herself—and him, too, for that matter. The difference was she had the element of surprise before, combined with drive and determination.
Steph still had the drive and determination, but surprise was no longer on their side.
They’d planned it this way. Jack had waited where he could be seen. It was a risk. They both understood that. The smarter thing may have been to hide. Find a place deep in the rocks and hunker down until the rescuers arrived.
Whenever that might be. They should’ve been there by now. It was rapidly approaching daylight, and he and Stephwere still on their own. The last message said the team was staging at Silver Mane’s Lodge. Had they had another accident? Something serious enough to warrant their delay?
The snow had stopped, and even the wind was calm for the moment. The overnight snowfall had left somewhere between five and six inches and was the reason for the original delay. But once they reached the lodge, they should’ve traveled the rest of the way on snowmobiles. There should’ve been no issue with the extra snow.
“What do you think they’re waiting for?” Steph asked.
“I don’t know. They’ve been sitting there with the snowmobiles idling for, what, ten minutes?”
“Probably. I think— ”
Her words stopped as the world went silent. The machines turned off.
