“Of course, you do, just… Thanks.”
She pushed to her feet, trailing behind the others, when shots stitched across the rock face, pinging off the rails. They crouched against the cliff, popping out to lay down suppressive fire before hoofing it along the walkway. The catwalk shifted, a couple bolts pulling free before they reached the end, climbed down onto a four-foot-wide ledge. A section of the metal collapsed behind them, the pieces disappearing into the next surging breaker as it crashed into the rocks, curled halfway up the cliff before falling back down.
The wind funneled up the sheer face, swirling the fog and the rain as they traversed the path. Tierney slipped, hit the rock and slid off the side just as Buck lunged forward, caught the back of her vest with Matrix-like reflexes. He crouched low, swinging hisrifle to his back before wrapping his other hand around one wrist — pulling her up.
He held her close for a moment, back rigid, muscles tensed, then eased away — motioned to the path. She hugged the rock as she stared up at him, biting her lower lip before turning, heading off. Nick kept half his attention focused behind them, scanning the ledge where they’d popped out of the chute, when a couple flares flashed above them, fluttering in the wind before sinking into the surf beneath them.
They lit up the trail and the fog a moment before rounds barked down from above, chewing up the sandstone, chasing the group along the cliff. They returned a few trigger pulls, stopping short when the path ended, a ten-foot gap separating it from a massive sea stack.
Below, the surf raged against the shoreline, smashing into the cliff before shooting thirty feet in the air, gushing through the opening with every wave. Tierney held firm, timed her entry, then leaped, catching the last of the spray before landing on the other side. She gained her balance, clearing the area behind and above before taking point, rifle notched in her shoulder.
Buck went next, once again making it look easy. He turned, waved Sloane over. She eyed the gap, chest heaving, hands fisting at her side.
Nick moved in behind her, one palm landing on the small of her back. “You jump like a gazelle on steroids. You’ve got this.”
She snorted, took a few running steps, then leaped, Buck catching her wrist as she landed on the lip. Her back leg kicked out, but she managed to clamber onto the ledge — get clear.
More shots ate at the surf, a few hitting the ledge next to Nick’s foot. While the Reaper’s men didn’t have a great angle, Nick knew sooner or later, they’d get a lucky bounce.
He timed the breakers, then pushed off, sprinted the five feet to the edge and jumped just as a rogue wave struck the cliff,funneling up the gap. It hit him mid-leap, tossing him against the side before crashing back into the surf. He smacked against the rock, pain sparking through his shoulder before he slipped, fell.
He clawed at the jagged stone, managed to grasp onto a small protrusion — stall his descent — before Buck crawled onto the face and into the gap, grabbed Nick’s waistband — yanked him back. They landed on the stack, the next spray washing over them, Tierney still firing off rounds.
Sloane loomed overhead, offered them both a hand, holding onto Nick’s long enough to stare him down. He sighed, gesturing her forward amidst a curtain of salty spray. The stack butted against a coastal forest, and they slid down the short rise, headed for a narrow trail carved into the dense thicket of shore pine and salal.
Tierney took the first right branch, angled them farther into the forest before circling back, keeping them parallel to the shoreline. Wings fluttered overhead, fog clinging to the low-lying branches as the rain tapped out a soft beat against the thick canopy. Slick roots and clogging mud hampered their progress, the visibility nothing more than glimpses amidst the rain-soaked foliage.
Up ahead, another path appeared out of the mist, larger, fewer snagging branches. Tierney slowed, gaze focused up the trail, when Buck lunged forward, stepping in front as two men charged down the pathway, boots splashing through puddles, branches clawing at their clothes. He caught the first guy low, cracking his knee as he knocked the other merc’s gun sideways, sent the rounds spraying across a patch of sword fern. The guy countered, wrestling as they both threw a few punches, grappling for power.
Sloane moved in close, KA-BAR flashing in the dull light. She didn’t hesitate just tossed it at the guy when he turned their way,the blade hitting him just outside his vest. He fell back, landing in a pocket of salmonberry bushes, the thorns raking across his cheeks. He growled, tried to roll, but she knocked him out with a firm kick to the head.
Buck finished the other asshole with the butt of his rifle, waving them on as voices rose behind them, boots slogging through the mud. Tierney broke into a run, leaping over logs, following the narrowing path until Nick wasn’t even sure they were on one. But she kept going, zeroing in on an opening up ahead, when she stopped, signaled them all to drop.
They hit the mud, breath held, weapons at the ready as headlights flickered through the trees, an SUV ghosting in and out of view along what must have been a gravel road. Stones crunched beneath tires, the light sweeping through the foliage as they drove down one side, turned then retraced their steps, lingering about twenty meters up the road.
Tierney glanced back at them, pushed to her feet, then wove along some kind of goat trail that followed the road. She didn’t speak, just angled them down a slick slope, keeping an eye on that road. They reached a muddy scree section, half-slid, half-fell down it, before hitting a wide gully, a narrow stream snaking through the rocks.
A dark-colored truck sat at the edge of the stream, camo netting draped over the top, a scattering of branches leaning against the sides. Tierney broke into a run, tearing off the netting once she reached the vehicle. Buck cleared off any branches that would catch on the tires, then slid behind the wheel, chassis creaking, the entire truck dipping a bit.
Tierney climbed in the passenger side as Nick opened the rear door, helped Sloane slide across the seats before jumping in beside her, shutting the door. The engine ticked, then caught, purring as Buck popped it into gear, rolled down the small incline, then onto a narrow patch beside the riverbed.
Branches slapped at the truck, needles and dead leaves blowing across the hood as he closed in on that logging road, engine growling, windows fogging. He hit the junction, fishtailed the vehicle onto the road, throwing mud and gravel like shrapnel. The engine revved, a few water bottles jumping across the floorboards as he pumped the gas, surging ahead.
Lights cut in behind them a moment later, the SUV from earlier skipping around the far bend, the massive grill bearing down on them. A couple men slipped out the open windows, the first shot punching into the tailgate with a punishing thump.
Tierney watched the road, calling out directions as Buck barreled along the track, driving like he had a score to settle. He took the turns hard and fast, spraying out curtains of gravel, somehow keeping all four tires on the road. They hit a patch of washboard, skipped sideways, but Buck kept going, manhandling the vehicle through the bumps, rolling out the other side still screaming.
Sloane opened the small, sliding window across the back, fired off a few rounds. The SUV veered left, riding the edge of the road before swerving back.
She cursed. “They’ve got run-flats and an armored grill.”
Buck glanced at her in the rearview. “Just, hold on.”
He increased his speed, the fog reducing the visibility to several feet, not that he seemed to care, operating on faith or intuition.
Tierney leaned over. “Tide’s coming in. We’ve got one chance to make the crossing, or we’re screwed.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Crossing? What crossing?”
