This time, there was no doubt that she laughed. The sound was so incongruous, given the situation, that his unease turned into something else—something far deeper, more disquieting. Like fear, only colder. Had the virus been destroyed?
On the ground, one of the men moaned. He had no idea which of the two. He wasn’t sure he cared. “Stop laughing,” he said.
The shaking only got worse. He loosened his hold and let her drop to her arse. Shit. This was out of control.
He looked around, spotted his things, and went to get them. When he turned back, she was on her side, shuddering. No surprise. He was wet just from holding her, the cold already seeping through his clothes. She was soaked through.
“Deegan!” No response. No movement. All right. Well, that simplified things. At least he wouldn’t have to argue with the man. He felt for Deegan’s pulse. It was there.
Sucking in a breath, he stood and reached for his bundle of zip ties. He’d need to do their legs. And then he’d make sure Deegan couldn’t move either.
After that, he’d build a fire, find out the truth, and if needed, call for an evacuation. It was up to him now to end this.
***
Leo wasn’t faking the cold. But she also wasn’t lost to it yet.
When the man drew close, she’d prepared to kick him, but he was smart. He stayed to the side, behind her back.
The moment she realized what he intended to do, she writhed, frantic, but it was too late. He’d already cuffed her ankles together.
Something landed softly over her, making everything dark. A Mylar blanket. It rustled when she trembled. The creepiest thing, though—the part she’d never ever forget—was when he put his hand on her arm and patted her.There, there, the move said.Stay calm. It’ll all be fine.
But it wasn’t. Because this man, whoever the hell he was, wasn’t keeping her warm because he cared about her. He was doing it because they couldn’t question a corpse. Or torture one.
She listened for some sign of what was happening, but the roar of the falls overwhelmed every sound.
Swept up by urgency and something too close to hopelessness, she didn’t wait another second. She half rolled, got the blanket off her face, and took a quick look around. No sign of the Brit. She strained and saw Elias on the ground, bleeding from his head, a couple feet from the man called Deegan.
A low, grim, animal sound burned its way from her guts, up and out, to be lost when it hit the air.
“Please, don’t be dead. Better not be.”
Or what?
She had no idea who she was muttering to. The Brit or Elias or God above. Didn’t matter. She wouldn’t accept it.
Like she wouldn’t accept these fucking cuffs.
Pain shot through her as she crunched into a ball, bringing her legs to her chest.
“Leo!”
Breathing hard, she looked up and caught Elias’s eye, flooded with relief.
“Go. Get loose and go.”
Struggling hard to loop her arms over her bottom half, she shook her head, mouth tight, eyes wide open.
Something scuffed close by and she scrambled to cover her arms with the Mylar blanket as the man dropped back down to the rock beside them.
“You take your blanket off, love? Won’t last long without heat.” He’d just squatted beside her when Elias started thrashing, in the throes of what looked like a seizure.
“Elias,” she yelled.
The man stood, eyes narrowed.
“Help him, for God’s sake! Help him! Something’s wrong!” Her chest felt close to exploding as she watched the man dip and examine Elias from a distance, caution no doubt keeping him from getting too close. Her rib cage couldn’t possibly contain her breaths and screams and the wild beating of her heart. “Goddamn it…Please.” The hysteria in her voice was real, though the man wouldn’t care about that. She needed leverage. It came to her a split second later. “Help him. He’s the only one who knows where the virus is.”
