He’d said too much. “Let’s just keep walking.”
He moved on, and she followed.
Soon she was ahead of him again. Court had a hard time keeping up with her in the heavy snow; she was obviously more accustomed to this terrain and these conditions than he was.
Finally, she said, “Do you do stuff like this all the time?”
“Do I use ladders and bear spray to rescue kids from bad guys in the mountains all the time? Almost never, to tell you the truth.”
“You…you kind of act like you do this all the time.”
“Believe me, it’s just an act.”
“Not sure Idobelieve you,” she said, but she did not pursue the matter further.
—
They made it to the road after another twenty minutes, and Pete Delaney was already there, standing in the flashing lights of his emergency vehicle, his arms wide. He took his daughter, and her snowboard boots were lifted off the ground as he hugged her.
He didn’t put her down for some time, but when he did, she turned back to Court.
“Thanks, Starsky,” Andie said. Court waved and nodded, his neck gaiter still shielding his face, and she climbed into the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Delaney stepped forward in the dark. “Hightower’s five minutes behind me. He’s really banged up, but he won’t admit it. You need to work on that leg. He’s got a hell of a gash, and he’s basically ignored it for the past six or seven hours. He took a knife in the shoulder, too.”
“That body of his has taken a lot worse. We’ll get him seen to.”
“They’re all dead, right?” he asked.
Court said, “I just got one guy, then I got the girl out. I honestly think your bear spray might have saved the day.” With a little chuckle, he said, “Although, in hindsight, maybe one can would have been plenty.”
“No shit,” Delaney said softly.
Court said, “The important thing is, that will never happen again.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Court was not.How can anyone be sure about anything?he thought. He just put a hand out, shook Delaney’s, and said, “You guys get home safe.”
The lights of the Boulder Fire and Rescue truck had just disappeared in the distance when Zack’s F-150 pulled up along the utility road. Court opened the passenger-side door and looked in.
“How bad are you?”
He could see bruising on Zack’s face. There was fresh blood on his leg. A compression bandage on his shoulder jutted out from under his open coat. But he smiled, his fat lower lip cracked, swollen, and bloody, “What did you think of that kid?”
“Rock star.”
“Right?” Zack beamed.
“Reminded me of you. The same vibe.”
“How so?”
“She told me she smacked one of the kidnappers with a toilet tank lid, damn near knocked him out a window.”
“No shit?” he said, pride evident on his face. “Outstanding!”
“You okay to drive?” Court asked.
