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“Try again. Nice and slow,” he whispered.
With as little movement as possible, she eased back the door handle. Crunching metal sounded as the door stopped hard.
“What’s wrong?”
“It won’t open. Something’s blocking it.”
“Okay,” Christian said, looking behind them. “My door won’t open either. We’re going to have to climb out the back hatch.”
“The hatch?” Was he crazy?
“You go first,” he said. “Just crawl back to the back hatch. You can do this.”
She prayed he knew what he was talking about.
“Take a deep breath for me....”
She gulped in a shallow breath.
“Try a bit deeper....”
She inhaled, the air reaching her lungs this time.
“Now, nice and steady.”
She nodded, eased off her heels, and inched across the flipped-down back seat.
The Bronco rocked.
“Go fast!” he shouted, scrambling after her.
NINE
SHE BOLTED FORWARD,gripped the handle, thrust the hatch open, and lunged out. She collided with the rock face, her knees taking the brunt of the motion, the rock scraping the soles of her bare feet. As she struggled for breath and purchase, a powerful weight slammed into her, pressing her against the cliff.
“Sorr—” A loud growl rent the air, cutting him off.
She sneaked a look beneath his arm. The Bronco teetered and then, with crumbling rocks spilling, tumbled over the edge.
Christian released an exhale. “That was too close.”
She nodded, the words not forming.
He shifted his full weight off her, both hands flattened on the rock on either side of her. “You ready?” he asked.
“Ready for what?”
“Climbing up.”
“What?”
“I don’t hear any sirens yet. I think we’re on our own for now. We need to get topside.”
“How do you propose we do that?” she asked, looking at the ridge a solid twenty feet up.
His hand clamped over her right one. “Just like this grip,” he said of the hold she’d found. “You find handholds and footholds and work your way up.”
“Aren’t we supposed to have ropes of some kind before attempting that?” She looked down at her bare feet. “Or climbing shoes.”
