Tailspin (6 page)

“No. I'm fine.”

But he heard the discomfort in her voice. She wouldn't tell him she was in pain.

A bullet slammed into the log next to his head.

They were out of time.

SEVEN

S
ylvie fought the scream that exploded in her throat.

Will slammed the door shut. Ignoring her ankle, Sylvie slipped down to let him catch his breath. He pressed his back against the door.

“God, we could use some help here,” he said between gasps. “They're a good distance away so we have this one chance to escape the cabin.”

After gesturing her out of the way, he motioned for her to duck down. “Be ready to run.”

Then he opened the door again to deliver a round of bullets. He slammed the door and picked her up and ran to the back of the cabin. He set her gently against the wall as if she were porcelain.

“We have seconds before they make the cabin.”

She gulped a breath. “How many... How many are there?”

“I don't know.” Will struggled with the window. “Two maybe.”

She hoped he didn't make too much noise so they'd focus on the front door. “Before, there were only two men. Diverman and Rifleman.” That she knew about. Had there been someone equally murderous driving the boat? And obviously, someone had stolen
her
boat, moving it out of her reach. Destroying the evidence she'd even been there.

Will finally got the window open then quietly slipped through, watching the woods as he assisted her out. The trees made good cover here, if nothing else. But then there was an open patch they had to cross. Sylvie followed him through the window, ignoring her pain, bruises and scratches from yesterday. What did any of her injuries matter if someone shot her in the head like Snake?

Once she climbed through the window, Will let her scramble onto his back again and then he sprinted as though she weighed nothing, which she knew wasn't true. She might be small, but her solid frame made her weigh more than other women her size.

By the time he made it across the small clearing between the cabin and outbuildings and into the thick cover of woods, Will was breathing hard. He stopped behind a big tree for cover and panted. Sylvie wanted her freedom from the position on his back but knew to keep quiet. They weren't out of trouble yet and she wasn't sure they would ever be until help came.

He crept forward between the trees, putting distance between them and Snake's cabin. She'd brought danger to Snake that had killed him—a man who'd chosen to live away from civilization. Her stomach soured. It never should have happened.

She couldn't let it happen to Will. She tried to watch the woods to help him, but twisting her neck around while she jostled on his back made her dizzy. Neither did she want a bullet in the back. Maybe the pack she wore would provide protection enough. Will stepped into a brook and waded upstream, getting his boots wet. She wasn't sure how far they'd gone when he stepped out of the brook and paused in the crack of a bluff between large boulders. When he set her down, she collapsed onto soft, mossy ground and shrugged out of the backpack.

He plopped down next to her, his face drawn tight. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded.

To her surprise, he ran a finger down her cheek, picking something off. A leaf, dirt, she wasn't sure, but something in his gesture made it feel as though he cherished Sylvie. That couldn't be true. Nor did she want that from him or anyone. Unfortunately, her heart jumped at his touch no matter her personal resolve.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“We can hike to town if we have to.”

Right. She blew out a breath. Like she would believe that. Time to face the truth. “Even if that were true, it won't take them long to track us. We're too slow and we can't outrun them. We can't make it to town before they find us.”

“Then we'll just stay alive until help arrives.” Will leaned in closer until his face was inches from hers. So he could lower his voice? “Do you trust me?”

His brown eyes seemed to caress her. His masculine scent—a woodsy mixture of loam and pure, wild adrenaline—grew heady and wrapped around her until she couldn't breathe. She struggled to speak. “I don't know.”

She couldn't rely on anyone but herself. Still, she wanted to trust Will. Just how far, she wasn't sure.

His brows knit together.

“I trust you to do your best, but don't lie to me about our chances. I'm grateful for all you've done, but I don't see how we're going to make it.”

Hurt spilled from his gaze. He eased back, pulled his weapon out. “Have a little faith, will you?”

“I've never had anyone shoot at me before, have you?”

“No.” He angled his head to listen. Through the opening between the boulders he watched the woods.

She didn't like this position. They were trapped. Someone could ambush them. What was he thinking by stopping here?

When he turned back, the warmth had returned to his eyes, but under it was a cold resolve that hadn't been there before. It scared her. This wasn't the Will she'd come to know in a few short hours. Was this experience changing him, like it changed her? And yet, how could it not?

“What are you thinking?” she asked, not at all sure she wanted to hear his answer.

Drawing a breath, he worked his jaw. She was close enough she could feel the muscles in his shoulders tense. “I've never had anyone shoot at me. Nor have I ever shot at someone until today. And I've never—” he exhaled long and hard “—killed another human being.”

He hung his head, and once again Sylvie held her breath even with her heart pounding wildly. “Will.” Her whisper was a mere croak.

He lifted his eyes to hers. The way he held her gaze, searched for something inside her, Sylvie almost thought he was trying to decide if she was worth the cost, but then she knew he'd already found that answer. He'd claimed that he was just doing what anyone else would have by rescuing her yesterday, but he was going far beyond what she ever could have expected from a stranger. And Sylvie had the strangest sensation that this moment in time bonded them together forever. Gave them a connection like no other. She didn't want to be that close to anyone or dependent on them. She saw where that had gotten her mother. But at that moment her connection to Will was her lifeline, and it went far deeper than she cared to admit.

Whatever the bond, he broke it with his next words. “My father taught me everything I know about weapons. Told me if you're going to learn how to shoot a gun, you'd better be prepared to use it.”

Sylvie wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going. Her insides quaked, but at the same time she resigned herself to the fact that they might have to kill to survive. “Meaning?”

“I will protect you, Sylvie. Whatever it takes. Whatever that means. If it comes to that, I'll kill for you.”

* * *

His words elicited dread in her eyes. He wanted her to believe in him, believe they could survive this. The words were meant for him as much as for her. He had to speak out his resolve, let it sink in. When he'd fired his weapon from the cabin, he hadn't been aiming at anything or anyone in particular. The shots had been meant to deter their pursuers. He wasn't in a position to make a kill shot then anyway.

But if they were on their own, if help wouldn't come soon enough, Will would cover ground, as much as possible. Then he'd lie in wait and make the kill if it came to that.

“We need to keep moving.” He hoped they hadn't rested too long. “You ready?”

“No, I'm not. How long do we keep running?”

“Until it's over.” His tone had turned brusque. He didn't recognize himself at the moment. But he didn't like the feeling that death was swooping down on them like a raptor just waiting for the right moment to stick its claws in.

He peered from behind the boulder. Watched and listened. Patches of light dappled the woods. At least it wasn't raining at the moment. The thick greenery was tranquil except for birdsong and skittering small animals through brush. A red squirrel darted into Will and Sylvie's hiding place between the boulders then back out. They probably stood too near where the creature had stashed acorns. They'd leave soon enough and the squirrel could get to his stash.

If the woods could be trusted, there didn't seem to be any sign of their assailants.

In the distance a twig snapped, and a hush fell over the forest. Even the breeze dropped. Another snap and it almost sounded as if the man had taken a wrong turn. Was going in the wrong direction. That would give Will and Sylvie a chance.

After he positioned Sylvie so they could make good time, he crept quietly, slowly, from behind the boulder. Relief washed through him. No answering gunfire was there to meet them. And yet he couldn't afford to let down his guard for even a second.

They were still a few minutes away from making their original meeting place. He could have asked help to come to the cabin, but he and Sylvie couldn't outlast a gun battle there and would be long dead by the time help arrived. So he'd kept to his original plan, hoping he could evade their pursuers and arrive around the same time as their rescuers.

He'd asked that they come as soon as possible.

Now he wished he would have begged.

Come on, Chief Winters, where's the helicopter? Where's our rescue? Didn't I make it clear we were on the run from killers?

Not clear enough, apparently. Will's back and legs ached, but he kept moving toward the rendezvous point and in the opposite direction of the men after Sylvie. At least he hoped.

Finally, Will was spent. The muscles in his arms had been cramping for an hour. Still, even carrying a woman on his back, over rough and difficult terrain, they had made good time.

He let Sylvie off his back and nestled her against the thick trunk of a Hemlock. Moss grew at its base along with the vast greenery found in the temperate rainforest. He wished for the bluff with the boulders. That had been good, quiet and safe cover. But they could hide here, too, melt into the forest and wait it out until their rescue helicopter came.

Will leaned against the tree and hung his head to catch his breath. Gather his composure before she looked too long and hard at his face and saw the truth. Sylvie reached up and squeezed his arm. Reassurance?

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He peered at her. Those hazel eyes would get to him every time. “Don't thank me yet.”

“Are we going to keep moving? What's the plan?”

“No. We stay here. This is our rendezvous point—or near enough. But we need good cover until help comes. When we hear
our
helicopter, we'll make a run for the meadow up a ways where it can land. From here, though, if we must, we hold our ground.”

She held up Snake's weapon, a grin contrasting the somber expression in her eyes. “Like in an old shoot-'em-up movie.”

“Something like that, but let's hope we don't have to get into a shoot-out.” He hoped all that was left to do was wait and watch. Wait for the rescue helicopter. Watch for their assailants. He perused the woods. Heard nothing. Saw nothing.

“Right, because I'm no marksman.”

“I don't know how many there are but I suspect two. Three at the most, but I'm hoping for one. I should be able to pick them off if I see them in time.”

Admiration filled her eyes, surprising him. Something warm tugged at him, fighting to get inside, but Will wouldn't let it. He didn't like that he cared what she thought about him. Until that moment, he hadn't realized her opinion of him mattered. He wouldn't let himself give in to the draw of her beauty, both inside and out. No, Sylvie wasn't a manipulator like Michelle had been. Far from it. But that didn't mean Will would allow himself to be vulnerable again.

“You're full of surprises, Will Pierson.”

“There's more where that came from.” He didn't just say that.

“What do you mean?” She angled her head.

He paused before he answered, listening to their surroundings and watching the forest for signs of the men after them. Prickles crawled over him.

A bullet pinged against the tree above Will's head. “Get down!”

Then another cracked the bark.

Will peered around the tree.

Aimed.

Fired twice.

The man ducked out of sight.

Again, Will watched and waited. He prayed they could get out of here without facing off with the men, but that was not to be. How many men were out there? Just the one he'd spotted, or were there more? He couldn't be sure. After too much time had gone by without any more sound or movement, he thought he should check and see if he'd injured the man. He hadn't shot to kill, would only take that step if there was no other choice. Instead, he was holding on to that one last hope their help would arrive and capture the men. He and Sylvie could get their answers that way.

But he'd protect her at all costs.

“Sylvie,” he whispered.

She didn't answer.

“Sylvie?”

Will held his weapon steady but glanced behind him. She was slumped over. Will dropped his weapon and grabbed her, spotting a hole in her coat. He tugged it off her shoulder and down her arm.

There, red spread across her shirt. A lightning bolt of pain struck Will's heart.

“Oh, no, please, no...”

He tugged the shirt open and found the gunshot wound through her shoulder, blood gushing out. His whole body shook at the sight. Ignoring the cold, he tugged off his coat and then shirt, pressing it against Sylvie's wound. He prayed the bullet hadn't nicked an artery, but this heavy bleeding told him otherwise.

I have to stop the bleeding.

“Sylvie, please don't die on me, please don't die.” Bile erupted in Will's throat.

God, where is the rescue helicopter? Please, don't let me down.

But
Will
had let
Sylvie
down. He told her that he'd protect her and keep her safe but his shots had been too little and too late. Her life poured from her, the shirt he'd used saturated with it. His hands were covered in her blood. Emotion burning behind his eyes, his heart tripped up, tumbled over.