Authors: Julie Korzenko
She moved her foot until it rested on top of the nearest bag. With slow purposeful twists of her ankle, the lumps beneath her boot moved around. They appeared long and rectangular, confirming her theory of flashlights and such.
Either that or it was a bagful of dynamite. Cassidy decided to take her chances that the bags were exactly what they appeared to be. Military gear backpacks.
Something told her the exit from the helicopter wasn't going to be an easy one. She inched toward the door and snuck her foot into the shoulder loop of the top backpack and then repeated her action on the one below. She tugged the bags closer; a small flame of hope sprung from this action and stopped her from completely falling to pieces.
Moving her leg back, she repeated the steps, making sure that she'd snagged both bags. No one paid attention; they were deep into a discussion about their search for Edward Fiske.
Nick's voice carried across the compartment. “They traced the Internet connection to a hotel in Salt Lake City. We'll dump these two and head over there.” The man smiled, flashing nicotine-stained teeth. Cassidy's skin crawled.
The meaning of his words penetrated her mind. How did they have knowledge of Fiske's whereabouts? She tugged the bags closer. If they were going overboard, so was this gear. Cassidy twisted her back to the foul creature beside her and focused her attention on Jake. They'd tied his hands but not his feet. She worried if the gash on his head was deep enough to cause concussive results. He still hadn't opened his eyes. Cassidy stared at him, once more attempting to will him awake. His finger moved.
Her heart nearly burst out of her chest. The chopper tilted to the left and she braced her feet, preventing herself from sliding into stink-bag Nick. Her eyes never left Jake's lap. His thumb curved upward. Cassidy concentrated on not showing the relief that flooded her system. Jake was fine, simply playing unconscious. She swept her gaze to his face and noticed his lashes flutter beneath the thick mane of hair that dropped across his cheekbone. Jake pointed at the bags and she allowed herself a smug grin at having figured that one out on her own.
The helicopter dove toward the right. Beneath the full moon, tree-tops glistened on the ground. She leaned closer to the door, attempting to determine their location. A meaty paw grabbed her shoulder and shoved her hard against the back of the helicopter. She growled her frustration and turned toward Cole.
He approached her and clung to the arm loop above her head. Sweat bled from his armpits, staining an oblong patch on the black shirt he wore. Cole's hair was slicked back except for one thin strand that split his forehead with needle-like precision. Cassidy glared into his face. “Don't look at me like that, Dr. Lowell. You did this to yourself. You have something I want.” He ran his thumb over her lips, and she bared her teeth to bite him. “That's not very nice. Where's the report?”
“What report?”
“The printout of the geological survey your worthless assistant gave you.”
Cassidy attempted to cover her surprise. Her mouth went dry as her mind tumbled through the ramifications of what he wanted. “I don't have it.”
“I'm not a patient man, Dr. Lowell. Where is it?”
She glared at him, her brain whirring in a thousand different directions. The damn geo-survey. That's what this was all about? “I don't have it.”
Robert's eyes never left her face. Her heart skipped at his icy stare, then stopped completely as she watched his arm raise and discharge the gun. Steve's head snapped back and blood splattered everywhere, coating Jake's shocked face.
Cassidy sat stunned, staring at the red pattern seeping down the metal wall of the helicopter. Her nose burned, and her voice disappeared. She screamed Steve's name, but nothing came out. She watched, frozen, as his body slumped forward and fell to the ground, motionless. Lifeless.
Pain engulfed her heart, and it threatened to send her spiraling into oblivion. She shifted her gaze away from Steve's body and glared at Robert Cole. Hate and anger replaced her grief. Kill him. Kill the bastard. Her mind raged and screamed, but her voice wasn't responding.
Cassidy's eyes blurred with tears, and she collapsed forward keening softly. Rocking back and forth, she attempted to gather her shattered emotions together.
Don't let them see you like this. If they see, they hold power
. Sitting back, she averted her eyes and turned so that Steve's body didn't cause her conviction to waver. “You bastard.”
She pushed forward, fighting against her restraints.
Kill him. Kill the bastard
. The helicopter dipped toward a jagged outcrop. Cassidy shoved back the ball of grief that lodged itself in her stomach as they crested Upper Falls and moved east. She felt her body begin to shake and a deep chill spread across her nerves. She inhaled several times, her nostrils flaring as she attempted to draw in the oxygen that would save her from succumbing to shock.
She glanced up, and Jake stared at her. Sadness softened his eyes, and she held onto the sight of him as if he were a life raft. His eyes glistened with moisture, and Cassidy swallowed hard. She stared and pulled strength from his presence. He moved his head, and she followed his gaze outside the chopper. Her brain kicked into gear, and survival became top priority. If she wanted to dump someone in the middle of nowhere, Mirror Plateau wasn't a bad choice. It was outside the main caldera and remote. The chopper dropped lower, and even under these circumstances the beauty of Yellowstone stole her breath. A waterfall fell in cascading curtains of white ribbons, crashing against the rocky riverbed below.
Steve was there now, within the twinkling stars that hovered above the jagged peaks. She needed to believe that, to hold onto her faith, or else they'd never survive.
Cole shouted. “Now where's my damn report?”
The chopper dipped toward the falls, floating about ten feet above a narrow ridge to its left.
Cassidy inhaled and screamed as loud as she could. “I don't have it, you son of a bitch.” Her throat was raw, and she bit her lips to stop them from trembling. “Damn you, I don't have it!”
Nick grabbed Jake, dragged him to his feet, and hustled him toward the door. Jake head-butted him, breaking loose. Twisting to find Cassidy, he locked eyes with hers. He nodded, and she offered him a tight smile. She knew exactly what he wanted. They were going to jump under their own power. Ignoring the tug on her heart and warmth that spread from her toes to the top of her head at the trust that crossed his face, she stood up.
Cole swore loudly and Nick reached for her, but Jake charged straight ahead, slamming into her chest and pushing them both out and over the rim of the helicopter. Frigid air and fear snatched at her throat and Cassidy gasped, fighting to control her panic. Arms flailing, she felt the bags smacking against her legs. On reflex, she twisted and tucked and struck the ground with head-splitting force. Opening one eye, she bit back the pain that filtered from every inch of her body.
“Jake?” Her voice came out as nothing more than a meek whimper. “Jake!”
Nothing.
She flopped on her back and gazed at the helicopter. The turbulence from its rotors kicked up dirt and debris across the ground, causing her to cough and choke. Her eyes widened, and fear froze her in place. Nick aimed a rifle at the center of her chest. Cassidy glanced down, following the movement of the small infrared dot until it rested on her heart. She inhaled deeply, anger melting away the fear. She stared up at him, her eyes daring him to pull the trigger.
T
HE THOUGHT OF
S
TEVE'S ASHEN FACE FLOODED
C
ASSIDY'S
mind, igniting a tornado of hatred that raged through her system. “Kill me, you chicken-shit asshole!” she screeched at the helicopter, not caring that she sounded more like a wounded hawk than a fierce lion. Chaotic wind, whipped into a frenzy by the helicopter rotors, yanked her hair from the bandana and slashed it against her face in painful lashes. She didn't avert her eyes from the figure of Nick Fowler.
He shifted the angle of his shoulder and aimed at her head. “You bitch.”
Staring into the eye of the machine gun didn't scare her anywhere near as much as dealing with the loss of her best friend. She gasped at the anger that twisted his face into a gruesome mask and saw the flick of his finger that ignited a bright line of firepower.
Cassidy twisted to the left. The bullets struck the vicinity of her feet, pummeling the gear bags. She swore and rolled into a tight ball, glancing over her shoulder and watching in amazement as the helicopter banked away from her position. It was leaving.
Jake.
She struggled to her feet and hobbled on sore legs in the direction of the chopper, her gaze flickering over the bullet-ridden bags. Black nylon with wide gashes spewed leaky bottles of water and an assorted cluster of items not clearly visible in the darkness onto the hard-packed earth. Ducking her head, she pushed her cheek against her shoulder attempting to free the hair that clung to her face.
Cassidy glanced up at the helicopter and felt an instant kick of relief when Nick was yanked away from the door by one of the other men. She opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could, releasing her fear, hatred, and grief in a call of the wild and dispossessed. It burned her throat but lightened the crush of despair.
The helicopter rose into the night and drifted away.
Cassidy collapsed to her knees, her roar of hopelessness softened to a low-pitched keening. Rocks jabbed into knees and roots bit into soft flesh, but she barely felt the pain. Fire burned beneath her skin from bumps and bruises that made her eyes water; she inhaled, allowing numbness and a sense of detachment to act as a Band-Aid. Leaning forward, she touched her forehead to the ground and clenched her hands into tight fists as if the action would block Steve's death from immobilizing her.
Chill mountain air curled around her shaking body, triggering uncontrollable shivers. Cassidy closed her eyes and concentrated. She searched for her center, that core of existence she needed to find in order to cross the bridge from insanity to survival. Blue eyes flashed, and her mind lunged for the oasis they offered in her swirling chaos of emotions.
Jake.
Cassidy struggled to her feet and called his name.
Beyond the noise of the pounding waterfall a faint timber filtered across the distance. “Here,” he answered from an area outside her line of vision.
His voice filled a void, becoming an orchestra to her shocked mind. She swallowed, tipped back on her heels, and stood. Her legs wavered, weak and physically jarred by the fall. She bit her bottom lip, breathed deeply several times, and listened carefully to her surroundings.
Survive
.
Blood and death knocked and demanded entrance, but she refused. Sorrow and tears insisted on release, but she denied. Hate and revenge filled her soul, and she smiled.
Survive
.
Cassidy glanced around. Moonlight cast a soft glow, allowing her eyes to see beyond darkness and shadow. An arc of thickly forested hills rose to her right and banked into the distance. She tilted her head and listened. The roar of the waterfall lay to her left, cascading down a ravine she couldn't see. She marked everything in her mind, then crouched down and twisted at an awkward angle. Her fingers brushed against the cuff of her jeans and she wiggled, forcing them farther down until they felt the hard edge of plastic. Her knife. She bent at an uncomfortable slant and whispered her thanks for years of hard workouts that helped block the pain of her contortions.
Jake's voice drifted across the distance, distorted by the strain of her actions. “Cassidy, don't panic. Take a few deep breaths to gain control and then scrutinize our surroundings.”
She swore and puffed out a breath of air in exasperation, every bruise screaming its location as she reached toward her feet and edged the knife from its holster.
“I know how frightened you must be, Sunshine. But you can do it.”
She glanced in the direction of his voice and rolled her eyes, beads of sweat burning her eyes. “Are you hurt?” Her words came out strangled because of the current circus act taking place. Cassidy's fingers touched the sharp edge of metal that signified she'd worked past the handle and reached the blade. “Thank God.” She inched the knife the rest of the way out, grabbing it quickly before it fell to the ground, and went to work on the ropes securing her wrists.
The strain in Jake's voice was evident. She could hear a tinge of breathlessness and edge of gritted teeth. “I'm not hurt; just kind of hanging on.”
Cassidy frowned, sawing back and forth on the ropes. Too bad she didn't have her BFK, otherwise known as
big friggin' knife
. These ropes would be history in two seconds with that blade. “What does that mean?” She tried to raise her voice, but she was working hard at the bindings. It came out more like an exhausted gasp.
“Cassidy, Sunshine â please take those deep breaths. Don't be afraid. I've been in worse situations. Once you realize that you're all right and that we're here together, things won't seem so bad. I need you to think clearly.”
Her wrists broke free and she rose slowly to her feet, dusting herself off. Steve's death didn't linger far from her mind but for now grief became imprisoned by anger, which suited Cassidy. She gazed at the sky and reached her fingers toward the stars, stretching her muscles and issuing a silent prayer. A flash of sadness tightened her throat, but she inhaled sharply rejecting the tears.
“Cassidy, don't despair. Pull yourself together.”
Pull myself together? “Shut up, Anderson.” She glanced down at the shredded ropes pooled around her feet. Irritation flashed, and she grinned at the familiar sentiment Jake's arrogance triggered. “Pull myself together?” Her voice was soft and didn't carry across the distance separating her from the current object of her aggravation. “I'm about as pulled together as Miss Piggy.”