“But doesn’t rain melt ice? Won’t it accelerate breakup?”
“Yep.” After taking a long, swooping look behind them, he turned, giving her his back again. “Better hurry.”
***
It would take them hours to cross the lake, and even then, it could be too late. Because he’d felt that presence. He knew someone was on their tail, dogging the two of them every step of the way.
He didn’t have to see them to know they were there, somewhere. Didn’t have to smell their alien presence or hear the crunch of feet on ice. He felt it—in his bones, along his spine, his nerves, or wherever these things lived.
There were lessons he’d learned the hard way: not to trust strangers—sometimes even family and friends—not to depend on anyone else for survival, and to listen to that sixth sense that told him trouble was near.
Right now, every one of his internal warning bells was going off.
If nothing else, this woman who’d literally fallen from the sky had pushed the big red button in any number of ways, just by being here.
A little late, as far as warning signals went. And still not entirely to be trusted.
He huffed out a cynical sound.
Trust.
He couldn’t remember how it felt anymore—to really trust a person. Aside from Amka and Daisy, there wasn’t anyone alive who had his back.
One thing was damn sure—judging from the way Leo’d looked at him, she didn’t entirely trust him either, despite what he’d told her. Or maybe because of it. And that was as it should be. Meant she was smart.
He remembered the way she’d sat there and let him work on her head. Okay, so maybe she trusted him a little. Enough to let him stitch her up. Enough to follow him out here.
Enough to sleep against him in the dark.
Up ahead, through the almost horizontal wind-whipped rain, a group of pines slowly appeared, dim and silent, a shadow army emerging from the gloom.
He walked past it, feet splashing through puddles now rather than crunching over freshly fallen snow. His jaw was clenched, teeth gritted against the shocking chill of water soaking through his socks.
Leo was fairly well equipped, but nowhere near ready for this. And with a concussion to boot.
To boot. He huffed out a humorless sound. Since when had he started thinking like an eighty-year-old pioneer man?
Suddenly it felt too close to the truth to be funny.
Had he ever been carefree? No. No, he didn’t think so. Driven, yeah. Goal oriented. Even in college, he’d been hell-bent on success.
Another puddle engulfed his foot, this time with an audiblesplash.
“Hey,” Leo called. “Is that land?”
“Island.” The one word obviously dashed her hopes. But this was no time for hope. No place for it either. He could survive on his own, but unless this plan of his worked, the two of them, together, probably had about a five percent chance of making it out of this alive.
She drew up alongside him, her face turned away to look at the tiny, pine-spiked land mass. With longing, he imagined. And, sure, it would be good to stop and build a shelter. Get a fire going, warm up their toes.
“Nowhere near the other side yet.” Better to crush the hope now. No point letting it linger. Like trust, hope was pointless bullshit that only led to disappointment.
And death.
Geez. Morose much?
He swiped a hand over his face to clear the water from his eyes. Had the rain slowed?
It had better not. It was too early. As long as it continued, keeping the helicopter from joining in the manhunt, he and Leo could outpace the enemy. He glanced back. Where there’d been nothing only a short while ago, the other bank now appeared as a dark, hazy mass, the mountain like something out of one of those Japanese pen-and-ink drawings. The weather was improving. Dammit. “Come on. Gotta hurry.”
