Overkill(93)

“Is it downhill all the way?”

“That’s in our favor.”

“But it’s steep.”

“If you lose your footing, I’ve got you.”

Thank God they’d put their boots back on. Doing this barefoot would have been impossible. But their outerwear had been left behind, and the air was cold and laden with mist. Their labored exhales vaporized, swirling the fog in front of their faces before becoming one with it.

He wished for their cell phones, for the key fob to Kate’s car. He wished for the pistol that had been of no use to Cal. He wished Kate didn’t appear so small and easily breakable in contrast to the rugged, unforgiving terrain.

He hoped she was right and that Eban wouldn’t risk coming after them. He hoped that Eban had emptied the clip and wouldn’t have another. But he reasoned that those hopes were probably in vain. Eban believed himself to be invincible. He would stop at nothing.

And then, although he’d done everything he could to avoid stumbling blocks, an exposed tree root caught the toe of Kate’s boot, and she fell. Her knee landed hard. Reflexively she cried out.

Zach came to a dead stop.

She stayed as she was on the ground until he gave her a hand up. “Oh, God,” she mouthed. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you all right?”

She nodded.

“Hurt?”

She shook her head and then would have said something, but he placed his index finger vertically against her lips. Cocking his head, he listened.

“Yoo-hoo.”

The eerie, high-pitched call came from above and behind them, dashing their faint hope that Eban had given up the chase. Although it was difficult to tell how far back he trailed them, he was close enough to have discerned that they’d stopped.

“Giving up?” he called. “You must be getting winded. I know I am. Who made this damn trail, anyway? Must’ve been you, Bridger.” He fired four rounds.

The loud report of the four shots caused both of them to cringe. But they also caused a thought to flit through Zach’s mind. Before it left him, he snagged it with a whispered, “Fourth and short.”

“What?” Kate mimed.

He reviewed the idea for all of a second and a half, then said to Kate, “Don’t worry anymore about making noise. Let’s haul.”

With no more explanation than that, he grabbed her hand and took off again, going faster than before, trying to make up for the gain they’d lost when they’d paused. His long strides ate up distance. Without complaint, Kate kept pace. Whenever he felt her about to tumble, he drew hard on her hand to keep her upright.

They’d been moving so rapidly, she sensed immediately when he began to let up. Her breaths were coming from between her lips in ghostly puffs. “Why are we slowing down?”

He towed her forward until they came to the brink of a chasm. At some point in time, it had been caused by a geological calamity. To Zach’s reckoning, it cut across the entire width of the mountain face like a crooked smile. The course of his trail had been predicated on it, because the crevice was narrower here than at any other place he’d found, and he’d explored it extensively.

When Kate realized she was overlooking a void, she immediately tensed and tried to back away. Zach held fast to her hand. Because of her fear of heights, he’d known she would balk. But she had to jump it. Blindly.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not that wide. I can practically step across it. Not that deep, either.”

“I can’t see the bottom.”

“Because of the fog. I’ll go first. Move back three steps to give yourself a running start, then jump. I’ll be there to catch you.”

“I can’t.”

“No way in hell would I let you fall.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You can, Kate. You have to. You have to now.”

He didn’t have time to cajole her. He kissed her hard and quick, then released her abruptly and leaped across, landing easily. Although he had to admit that being unable to see the other side would have terrified him if he hadn’t known that it was closer than one’s imagination might make it.

“Stopped again?” Eban called. “Ready to cry uncle?”

“Kate!” Zach hissed.

“I can’t see you!”

“I’m here. Do it. Now.”

He heard her take the backward steps, then her running footsteps. He knew the instant she launched herself. He reached out. She actually overshot and landed against his chest like a fluttering bird who’d flown into a windowpane.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her tight, and drew her behind the trunk of a stout tree. He bent his head down low and burrowed into her neck where he could feel her pounding pulse.

“Perfect jump. Perfect. Now, don’t move a muscle or make a sound.”

“What?”

“Stay behind this tree.”

“What?”

“Trust me, Kate. No matter what happens, do not move and not a single sound. Got it?”

She clutched at the sleeve of his shirt, but he pulled away and dashed across the path. As he’d anticipated, the sound of him smashing into undergrowth drew Eban’s gunfire toward him and away from Kate. Bullets whizzed through the fog. One smacked into a nearby tree trunk; another struck the rock formation Zach had crouched behind.