He rolled, fired again and again as he jerked her to her knees. 'Move it,' he ordered.
After the first shot, he knew Monk had a high-powered rifle. Probably with one of those fancy nightscopes too. All the bastard needed was one clear shot. No, make that two.
He figured Monk was trying to get them to run into the clearing by shooting at their only other way out.
Avery inadvertently cooperated. She veered to the right, away from the hail of bullets, but John Paul threw his arm around her
and lifted her off the ground as he pushed her in front of him, using his body as a shield against the bullets flying around them.
'Go, go, go,' he whispered, urging her on.
A branch came flying at her face. He blocked it like a football player with his forearm and shoved her ahead. She stumbled back against him, righted herself before he could try to jerk her arm out of its socket again, and kept going. They were running uphill now through a maze of trees. She heard a roaring in her ears, thought it was her heart pounding.
She was wrong about that. She reached a boulder. The surface was wet and slick. She scrambled up on her hands and knees,
and then came to a hard stop. Good God, there was a sheer drop of at least fifty feet, and at the bottom was white, foaming water.
The hell with that. In her mind, they were out of options. The rapids were below them, but the killer was behind them and
rushing toward them. As Avery peered over at the white water, she thought they had a better chance of surviving if they
faced Monk head-on.
She unzipped her windbreaker pocket and pulled out the gun. John Paul emptied his gun, released the clip, and snapped
another in. Then he flipped the safety on, glanced over the boulder to see what was below, and shoved his gun into Avery's pocket. After he zipped it up, he took her gun, put it in her other pocket, and zipped it closed.
She didn't like where this was leading. 'We stay and fight,' she said.
He shook his head. She frantically nodded. They could both hear Monk crashing through the brush. He was firing wild now, but nonstop. John Paul wrapped his arms around Avery's waist, holding her tightly in a bear hug. As he leapt from the rock ledge, he asked, 'Can you swim?'
Chapter 20
Could she swim? He had the gall to ask her that question after he'd lunged off the ledge with her locked in his arms.
Avery didn't scream. Her life didn't pass before her eyes either on that endless flight down into the water below. She was too busy trying to punch him so he'd let go of her. And too scared to make a sound. Oh, Lord, don't let us drown.
They hit hard, plunging feetfirst into the icy water. It felt as if a thousand needles sliced through her feet and traveled at the
speed of light all the way up into her brain. The impact was paralyzing.
He never let go of her. Not when they were sucked under by the raging water, and not during their frantic search for the
surface as they were plummeting down the roaring rapids. Just when she was certain her lungs were going to burst, they
finally clawed their way to air, but they had only enough time to fill their lungs before they were pulled under by the current.
She saw a brown bear watching them from the bank. She could have sworn he was grinning at them and didn't want that image
to be her last before she died. She wanted to survive so she could give John Paul hell for trying to drown her. As if something had hold of her ankles and was tugging her down, she sank again. She would damn well have to fight harder To make it. She'd
grown up swimming in the ocean, first in Florida and then in California, and was a stronger swimmer than most, but this wasn't swimming. They were bobbing like corks.
They reached the surface again. Gasping to take in as much air as possible, she spotted a big old gnarled tree branch bouncing from one white-water crest to another. With both hands, she grabbed hold when it came roaring past.
The river zigged and zagged, but they were getting closer to the bank. She started kicking with all her might. John Paul hooked
one arm over the branch and steered their lifeline in the same direction. When they finally reached shallow water, he stood and pulled her to the bank.
Sprawled out side by side on the grassy slope, they were both too exhausted to move. Avery was gulping in air and shivering so much her teeth were chattering.
'You okay, sugar?' he panted.
She suddenly bolted upright and gagged. She thought she might have swallowed half the river.
'Can you swim?' she said between gasps. 'Is that what you asked me after you shoved me off that ledge?'
'So you heard me, huh?' He reached over and gently pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes.
She looked back at the raging river. God surely had a hand in their survival, she thought. There simply wasn't any other explanation possible.
'Okay, so now we know what a fiver is,' she said.
He sat up. 'Yeah?'
She smiled. 'They obviously rate the rapids,' she explained. 'This one was the big mother. A fiver.'
He shook his head. They had just been through hell together, and all she wanted to do was tell him how they rate rapids?
'Did you hit your head or something?'
'No, I just figured out the rating system. That's all.'
'Want to go again?'
'Been there, done that,' she said. Squinting up at the cliffs above them, she said, 'I think we lost him.'
'I'm not sure,' he said. Reluctant as he was to move, he forced himself to get up. He shook himself like a dog who'd just had a bath, then offered her his hand.
She made the mistake of clasping hold. He yanked her to her feet, pulling on her socket again. The man didn't know his own strength. Now what was he doing? He'd turned and was surveying the area they'd just vacated.
'What?'
'Grab some brush and throw it over our imprints. No, never mind. You'll only make it worse. I'll do it.'
She walked into the protection of the trees and watched him pull several small branches over the soft earth. 'Why is it that you automatically assume I'm incompetent? Is it just me you have a problem with, or are you that way with every woman?'
'Just you.'
She saw him grin before he turned away. He got a kick out of irritating her, she decided, but she was too weary from near heart failure in the rapids to rise to his bait.
'Do you have any idea where we are?' she asked. Her words sounded slurred, and she was shaking almost violently now.
'No.'
It wasn't the answer she was hoping for. 'So I guess you weren't a Boy Scout?'
'I can get us where we need to go.'
'Back to the car?'
