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Trembling, she nodded slightly and the hand on her mouth released a little. She’d lost her com, and with her hands pinned to her sides, she wouldn’t be able to alert anyone by using her tracker ring. She had no other choice but to comply, but her mind was working overtime. Webber was down. The thought he might be lying dead close by made her stomach roil. She would do what her dad had taught her: cooperate first and then the moment he was distracted, she’d try to escape. “Yes, I understand.”
Holding her arms out a little from her sides, she walked around the next bend and Lyons emerged from the bushes surrounding the old bridge. The banner hanging at the entrance with “Danger” written in red had frayed and dropped to the rotten wooden slats. Long strands of canvas flapped about in the wind, slapping the ground. Beyond, the decaying structure stretched out in ruins across the fast-flowing rapids over fifty feet below. As she moved closer to Lyons, the wind carried the spray to her face. She wanted to wipe the water from her eyes, but if she moved her hands, he might shoot her.
“Hi Emily.” Lyons gave her a slow smile. “I figured I’d wait for you so we could get to know each other better.”
Get something between you and the target. Emily heard her dad’s words filtering into her mind. Heart jackhammering, she moved closer to the entrance to the old bridge and leaned against one of the many pine trees lining the edge of the surging river. Her movement turned Lyons around, placing him between her and the gunman. The bushes opposite moved slightly and a man with the brim of a ball cap pulled down to shade his face moved toward them, but she couldn’t see a weapon in his hand. Are you the killer? She swallowed the panic in her throat and looked at Lyons’ smiling face. “I said I’d see you at the party. I like my space.”
“You’re a tease.” Lyons took a step closer. “Come here, I won’t bite.”
Adrenalin pumped through Emily, blind panic melted away, and her path became clear. She took a step to one side. Her only option was to run. “There’s a man behind you with a gun.”
“A what?” Lyons spun around and glared at the man. “What the hell do you want?” He walked toward the man and pushed him hard in the chest.
“That’s the last mistake you’ll ever make.” The other man lashed out, hitting Lyons in the face.
Emily pressed her emergency tracker ring and then turned to leap over the danger sign. She ran onto the rickety old suspension bridge. It swayed in protest and underfoot the rotten treads creaked as the bridge shuddered. Wind lashed at her and icy spray whipped up from the rapids, drenching her in seconds. She slipped and then made the mistake of looking down to the treacherous rocks and swirling water below. Unable to move, she hunched down, clinging to the railing, and then sucked in a few deep breaths to calm her shattered nerves. The noise from the rapids thundered in her ears and she doubted her dad would be able to hear any communication from her tracker, but she’d try. “Dad, if you can hear me, I’m stuck on the old suspension bridge. I’ve lost my com. Lyons and another guy got into a fight. I think the guy has a gun.” She gritted her teeth. “I’m scared but I’m going to try and get to the other side and away from them.”
Petrified, she moved in slow motion and looked ahead to the other side of the ravine. It seemed to be so far away, and many of the slats on the bridge had fallen into the river long ago. She wrapped one arm around the blackened railing and stood. The bridge moaned in protest and swung dangerously to one side. She had to make it across and moved on, step by step, testing each slat before she went to the next. Behind her the sounds of the fight came through the rush of water, and she turned to see Lyons taking a beating from the stranger.
As she turned back, the suspension bridge swayed dangerously and her palms slipped on the soaked moss and slime-covered handrail. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst through her chest but
she shuffled along, picking her way over the missing slats. The closer she came to the middle, the more the wind buffeted her as if it was trying to rip her from the bridge and toss her into the river. It was so cold, she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore and her knees shook with each step.
The next moment an almighty ripping sound split the air and wood splinters shot past her then rushed away in the wind. The bridge jolted her to her knees and, losing her grip, she slipped in an uncontrollable slide toward a gaping hole. She grabbed at air as the supports for the handrails rushed by and then came another ripping sound. The bridge moved again, tumbling her from one side to the other. As she slammed into a support rail, she managed to loop one arm around the icy metal and came to a shoulder-wrenching halt inches from the hole and certain death.
Sobbing in terror, she looked over one shoulder and found the cause of the problem. The man did have a weapon. A knife glinted in the sunlight as he urged Lyons onto the bridge. Blood streamed from Lyons’ nose and he moved without care as if on a suicide mission. She raised her voice as loud as possible. “Stop running! The bridge will collapse.”
Letting out a wail of terror, Lyons ignored her, jumped over the missing slats, and headed toward her. Emily clung tight to the shuddering bridge. The wood beneath her feet bucked and creaked. The idiot would kill them. She stared through the clouds of mist behind Lyons. The man had vanished. She raised her voice in the hope Lyons would hear her. “It’s okay. No one is chasing you.”
He didn’t so much as acknowledge her presence and kept on coming, his expression wild. Blood dripped off his soaked face in a ghoulish crimson spray around him. Decayed wooden slats fell away, floating like confetti in the wind before tumbling into the rushing water below. She held up one hand to him. “Stop!”
The suspension bridge whined and she gaped in horror as the strands of woven, rusty metal in the cable supporting one side of the bridge appeared to stretch. Wires screeched and snapped as the cable unraveled before her eyes. She stared, frozen in terror, before her instinct to survive took over. She wrapped both legs around a wooden post and tightened her grip on the slippery railing as a loud twang like the snapping of an almighty guitar string cut through the roar of the rapids. She ducked just in time as the metal cable snapped and sliced through the air a foot above her head like a whip.
An almighty moan like the felling of a great tree shuddered through the bridge and then one side of it fell away. A cry came through the wind and, trembling, she looked down. Seth Lyons was hanging by one arm to the broken side of the bridge and trying desperately to pull himself to safety. Arms and legs aching, Emily pressed her head close to her tracker ring. “Help!”
Forty-Nine
When Wolfe’s voice came through Jenna’s earpiece, she glanced all around, worried someone might be close by. “Copy. Wolfe, what’s happened?”
“Emily’s in trouble. She’s on the old suspension bridge and the last communication I received from her was, ‘Help.’ She’s lost her com pack, and with the noise of the rapids, it’s difficult to hear her. I’m heading up the mountain and bringing a rope. Rowley is still in position.”
Jenna slid from her hiding place and ran down the mountain. “I’m on my way.”
“Me too.” She could hear Kane’s heavy breathing as he ran. “I’m almost at the cut-through.”
Jenna pressed her mic. “Roger that. Webber, head to Emily’s position.”
No response. What the hell had happened to him now? She ran down the straightaway, leaping over gnarled tree roots and avoiding the rocks. As she rounded the bend, she caught sight of a man standing at the entrance to the old bridge. She slowed, placed one hand on the weapon in her shoulder holster, and walked toward him. He was in his mid to late twenties with short, fair hair and could be a college student, but not one who’d come under her scrutiny. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to figure out how to save them.” He pointed to Emily and Lyons dangling on the broken bridge. “I’d have called 911 but my phone is in my truck.”
“Stand back, I’m the sheriff.” Jenna moved closer to the edge and took in the situation. “Help is on its way.”
“That guy dropped these.” He offered Jenna a pile of flash drives.
Jenna pushed them into her jacket pocket. “Thanks, now stand to one side.”
“Sure.” The man turned away and headed down the trail.
