She returned with the towline and clipped it to the dog’s collar. It rolled its eyes back, trying to figure out what she was up to.Me, too, mutt.Another whistle from downriver. The dog whined.
“It has an attachment problem,” Tia said. “Well, adetachmentproblem. Doesn’t know how to let go.”
“You tell me this now?”
She hoisted its hind legs, easing the strain. It twisted, eyes rolling back, paws scrabbling in air, like it wanted to turn and take out her instead but didn’t know how. “Walk inland. To the pig.”
“You’re not tying it up?”
“Got a better idea.”
“I’m not really warming to your last idea.”
His body was chilling with panic, his nerves screaming at him to do something. His medic’s Scottish brogue landed clear in his head:“Suck it up, Princess.”Tia had done this without the armor.
After forever, they reached the dead pig.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Sorry, that’s as far as my plan went.”
“What?” Another whistle. Closer. The shooter was on the move.
“I’m kidding. Let’s lower the dog.”
Bad idea. As soon as its paws hit dirt it yanked, trying to drag its prey down. Tia leaped to a tree and tied the towline around it.
“Jaws, release,” she hissed.
It didn’t.
She scanned the ground, grabbed a stick and caught the dog around its middle, which triggered more head thrashing. She angled the stick up and tried to wedge it into the corner of the mutt’s mouth. With the jacket and Cody’s arm stuffed in, there wasn’t room.
“Hold tight,” she said.
“Again, me or the dog?”
Cody braced as she shoved the stick. The dog released and dropped onto its spine with something between a cough and a bark. Tia grabbed Cody’s good arm and they stumbled away. With another cough-bark, the dog lunged. The towline snapped tight and yanked the mutt back. It whined and shook its head, then found its voice, barking to burst an eardrum.
Ah, now he got it. Not only weretheyjust out of reach—so was the pig. Dog goes bat-shit crazy at pig, shooter thinks it’s guarding Cody and Tia and leaves the bridge to come find it, they get over the falls. Genius.
Tia shoved Cody. “Get the kayaks ready. If I’m not back in two minutes, go without me.”
“What the fuck? He’s coming!”
“Go!”
“I’m not leaving you behind, if that’s your pl—”
“It’s not. Trust me. I can’t waste time explaining. I’m a soldier, too, Cody—show me some respect and go.”
She was right. He wasn’t her bodyguard—they were a team. He’d give her two minutes but no way was he pushing off without her.
He’d just gotten the kayaks to the water when she leaped down the bank. Blood everywhere—her shorts, her jacket, a smear across her forehead.
“Shit, Tia, what happened?”
She held up a couple of dripping slabs of meat, hairy black skin still attached. “Ham steaks happened. He keeps them hungry. If we have another encounter...”
