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“Fine.” I concentrate on staying on the road. Even with the windshield wipers and headlights, it’s hard to see much ahead. “We’ll be at the extraction point soon.”
“If they can land.”
I don’t answer. If Declan was piloting the helicopter, he wouldn’t rest until he got both of us out of there, storm or no storm. But I don’t know this pilot, and I’m guessing they won’t have Declan’s loyal determination to save his sister.
The truck rumbles along. I can tell from Nick’s breathing that he’s fighting not to throw up. Head wounds are bad that way. I still don’t know how I got out of there without—
A sudden sharp stab of pain in my lower back makes me gasp. “Charlie?” Nick groans in a weak voice.
“I’m good.” I wait until his eyes are closed again before I reach around to the area in question.
My hand comes back wet.
“Charlie…” I look over in time to watch Nick pitch to the side, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Nick!” I reach over to check for a pulse, turning sharply as a tree appears in front of us. The road is completely covered and I can’t see—
Jerking the wheel takes us off whatever road is left and the front wheels dip down as we hit a ditch of some sort.
And then a tree.
I’m flung forward as the front of the truck crashes to a stop against a pine tree, the steering wheel snapping against my chest. I groan. Nick is slumped, half on the seat, half on the floor.
“Ham,” I say to my earpiece. “Any chance the landing spot is right around the corner?”
No response. “Ham?”
Nothing. Cursing under my breath, I get the door open and fall out of the truck rather than jump, because whatever is wrong with my back really starts to hurt.
Adrenaline is a wonderful thing. It can mask the pain for as long as it’s pumping through you.
I think mine has stopped pumping.
Somehow I manage to get Nick out of the truck and drag him by the shoulders in the direction where I think the landing spot might be. Snow swirls around me, sharp darts aimed for my eyes. I can’t leave him. I’ve had a pickup in the middle of a storm before and I know there won’t be time for the helicopter to land and anyone on board to come back with me for Nick. If he’s getting out of here, it’s got to be with me and it’s got to be now.
“I should have taken the top level,” I grumble into the wind. “At least you could have carried me.”
Even straining my ears, I can’t hear anything, so either no one has gotten it together to come after us, or the wind is too loud, which means another truck can come up behind me and I won’t even realize it until it’s too late.
I stop and pull my gun out of my bag. Adjusting my grip on Nick, I start off again when the worst happens—headlights rip through the snow, directed right at me.
I drop Nick, my finger almost tightening on the trigger when I hear the voice. “Charlotte!”
I don’t know where Ham got the snowmobile but there’s no time to ask. My earlier anger towards him fades into the wind as Ham helps me position Nick behind him on the snowmobile, with me at the rear, trying to keep him upright.
Somehow I manage to keep us both on the machine as Ham speeds into the storm.
When we burst out of the trees to the clearing, the helicopter already hovering.
“The pilot can’t land,” Ham shouts over the noise.
“Tell them to send down the cage. We’ve got to get Nick out.”
“What about you?” Ham demands. “Go up in the basket with him.”
“It’s too much weight, I won’t risk him.”
The next few moments fly by in a blur. Crouching low and bracing against the gusts from the rotor blades, Ham grabs hold of the basket lowered down and helps me strap Nick into it.
