The anger had been doing what anger does when you don’t have time to address it—sitting just below the surface, burning hotter as time went on. She pushed through a low branch and kept moving. Now was not the time to address it. Survival required everything she had. The rest would wait.
Jack hadn’t said a word about the culvert being risky. She’d half expected it. Maybe a quarter expected it. The thought moved through her with a sharp edge, and she let it pass. He hadn’t said it. She’d give him that much.
They moved through a section of snow-covered deadfall, and she picked the route carefully, stepping over the larger trunks, angling around the worst of the debris.
Behind her, Jack cleared the same obstacles without complaint. Whatever his feet felt like on the frozen ground and sections of debris, he wasn’t letting it show in his pace or his movement. She’d noted that about him last night when they’d been training, when it was all still fun and games and not life or death. He didn’t dramatize the hard parts. He worked through them.
She filed that away with everything else she wasn’t thinking about right now.
The sound of the snowmobiles shifted. Graham had changed direction, the engine pitch climbing as he pushedharder. Rick’s was quieter, not working as hard and difficult to hear, especially with the whine of the one closest to them. Did that mean he was sitting somewhere? Idling?
Was he waiting just ahead at the culvert, rifle at the ready, anticipating her head to pop out from the trees and prepared to take the shot? Jack might think Graham wasn’t interested in killing them, but she knew that didn’t hold true for the leader.
She’d known it about the other man, too, the one at the camp that had been watching over Jack. When she’d seen it was him, she knew there was no option to go easy. She understood she was going to need to use everything within her to put him on the ground and make sure he stayed there.
Thinking about how she’d beaten him was going to cost her many sleepless nights; she was sure of that. But she’d do it again if she had to. Jack might not have appreciated it, but Steph believed she’d made the right call. Theonlycall.
They were getting close to the culvert, and the tree line was changing. She adjusted without breaking stride, angling in the correct direction, using a dense stand of timber to keep them covered. Jack matched the adjustment without being told. No conversation needed. She moved, and he read it and followed.
The timber was thinning fast now. The culvert wasn’t far ahead. She came to a stop, staying behind one of the larger trees. Jack moved in beside her.
“What do you think?” he asked, his mouth near her ear.
“I can’t tell if he’s there. The other machine is still too loud.”
“Yeah. We need to take it slow. Let’s get closer so we can see the culvert and make sure he’s not there.”
She scanned the area. It was between fifty and a hundred yards until the trees opened up. The culvert was part of the water runoff system, and the area around the culvert was a heavily graveled ditch where the trees and other foliage had been removed years ago.
She assumed road workers maintained the area, keeping it clear so the runoff wouldn’t back up. The road was fairly high up, the culvert passing through the hillside. The size of the culvert concerned her. It was more than a pipe, but could they actually wriggle through it?
Could Jack get through it?He was broad-shouldered and tall. Both could cause issues.
“See those trees up there?” She pointed.
“The two that look like they’re fused together?”
“Those, yes. Let’s get to them and see if we have a better view.”
They reached the trees in seconds, and as she had hoped, it gave them a better view of the area. The culvert and ditch were exactly as she remembered. And even better, the snowmobile was nowhere in sight.
“What do you think?” Jack asked.
“Looks good. But I think we should make another short run. Maybe to the edge of the trees?” She pointed to another spot that looked like it might provide enough cover for both of them. “We can reassess there and, if it’s still clear, make a run for it?”
Jack was quiet as he looked at the tree line past the ditch. His head turned in slow increments, his gaze shifting toward the culvert. His chin lifted slightly as he looked up the bank and took in the road.
“Not a very big opening.”
Steph sighed. Exactly what she was afraid of. It looked small in the dark. Too small. She could probably fit, but could Jack?
“It’s not,” she agreed. “I think I can duckwalk through it. You might need to kind of...shimmy.”
“Shimmy?”
“Can you do it?” Her tone had more snap than she intended. She met his gaze. “I mean...really, can you?”
“I can do it. Let’s get closer, make sure it’s safe, and get this done.”
