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I twist and scramble up, gritting my teeth as my body begs me to let it be, let it rest. I get up to the section I’d climbed, back pressed to the rock, and then, carefully, I ease to the right. That’s the same direction as Mark, but going the other way will expose me more. I tuck between an overhang and a bush.
I rest there, catching my breath. After a moment, I roll my shoulders and stretch my limbs as I assess damage. They hurt like hell, but they all work. I take a deep breath. While that also hurts, there’s no searing pain of a broken rib. I can breathe. I can move.
When I taste blood, I wet my lips and realize I bit the lower one in my fall. An abrasion on my cheek pulls as I move my face.
I’m fine.
Fine enough anyway.
Or I would be, if I weren’t stuck under this damn overhang, pinned down by a guy with a rifle who knows where the hell I am.
“Casey?” a voice croaks from above.
Gunnar. Shit. I’d forgotten Gunnar. That’s why I’d been climbing this damn mountain, right?
“Shhh!” I say.
A shot fires. It hits somewhere to my left and bounces off the rock. Gunnar goes silent.
I pick up a chunk of rock near my hand and pitch it down below.
“You really think I’m going to fall for that again?” a voice shouts. A voice that is undeniably Mark’s. He’s far off to my left. Heading this way? Heading the other way to get down the mountainside and circle back? Or just poised in place, waiting for me to stick my head out.
Damn it.
I pat my utility belt. Dalton has the backpack, and I didn’t bother grabbing a second one. After all, I was just popping into the forest and bringing Dalton back. I gave Yolanda my knife, so I have my gun, a flashlight, matches…
And something else.
I take it out and smile. It’s a firecracker. We carry flares, in case of an emergency, but they’re not exactly pocket-sized. I’d bought these as a backup, though Dalton grumbled that I just wanted the excuse to set off firecrackers, which is not entirely wrong.
I have two of them. I take one out, light it, and then pitch it as far as I can.
The firecracker lands in a tree, sparking and popping.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Mark calls. “Oh no, she has a machine gun!” His laugh ripples down through the forest.
When something moves in the trees below, I go still, my heart hammering.Tell me that’s Dalton or Anders. Please, tell me…
Movement flashes in the forest just below me. I focus and see it’s Yolanda.
Before I can react, she throws a rock. It lands below where I’m perched on the mountainside.
“Really?” Mark says. “You’re just going to keep trying, aren’t you? I know where—”
Yolanda runs. She dashes from her hiding spot and races to another one. Mark fires, but he can’t see more than I can, which is just a dark blur of movement. She does it again, running into another stand of trees farther away.
It takes a moment before I understand. Then I realize what’s happened. I threw the firecracker to alert Dalton, but Mark thought it was to divert his attention… which it did, momentarily. Yolanda’s rock landed below where I am, and he thinks I used the two to cover me while I climbed down, and now I’m making a break for it. He’s fixed on “me” down below.
Did Yolanda do that on purpose? If so, it’s a dangerous ploy, and I hope to God she stays where she is and doesn’t decide he needs another clue.
In the meantime…
I creep back to where I’d been, in that hidden climbing spot. I grit my teeth and start the ascent. This time, when I reach that ledge, the ram is waiting, back in his spot, watching me.
I pretend not to see him, get onto the ledge, and keep going, and he thankfully lets me pass. This next part is a scrabble. I put one foot up, and it’s clear that I am not going to do this without making noise. Shit.
I could go back down. Forget Gunnar. After all, he’s still my prime suspect for Bruno’s partner. Just get down and find Yolanda and then go after Mark once she’s safe.
