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“I said no is not an option, Chase.” She got impossibly closer. “I wasn’t there for Josh. Didn’t have his back, but I’m here, now. And I’ll damn well have yours. Which means we either both get out of here, or we both drown. And I’d rather not die today, so get ready to move that leg.”
The Bronco shook as Foster climbed back on top, poking his head in the hole. “We need to move this along. The river’s really rising.”
“Just a few more minutes…”
He frowned, and Mac knew she’d been right. That he wanted to take her place. Be the one to rescue his best friend. What would probably be an easy feat for him. But seeing how close Greer had been to the edges of the opening, it was obvious Foster wouldn’t fit no matter how hard he tried. In fact, the more Mac thought about it, the less convinced she was that Chase would squeeze through, even with her help, but she’d have to worry about that once he was free.
A rush of water got her moving. Shifting back until she was heaving on that bar. Bracing both legs against the door, this time, aware she’d fall backwards when it finally gave but not caring. Whatever it took to get Chase free.
The seat was rocking again, all that water bubbling up when an eerie groan reverberated through the vehicle before the entire Bronco shifted. It shot forward, bouncing along the riverbed, tossing them around like rag dolls as water surged through the cab, bringing branches and leaves with it.
Some of the debris battered against Mac’s side, tearing lines through her clothes before she finally pushed to the surface, gasping in air as the water churned around her. She glanced at Chase, but his chair was completely submerged. Just his hands grasped around the wheel as he tried to lever himself up.
She took a deep breath then went underwater, sealing her mouth on his and giving him whatever air was left. Then she was cresting the surface and moving back. She grabbed the crowbar one more time and pulled. All the anger, the guilt, spurring her on. Her internal clock ticked in the background, slowly counting down Chase’s chances of making it out when the seat let loose, sending her careening backwards.
She hit the far window and pain ricocheted through her skull as everything went dark for a moment. Then a hand wrapped around her sweater and yanked her back up.
She coughed, spitting out water as Chase shook his head, dragging her toward the open roof. “You’re insane. Now, get the hell out before this whole thing goes.”
“You first.” She held firm when he glared at her. “You’re gonna need a shove to squeeze out that opening and you know it. Even then, it’s gonna hurt like hell. Though, judging on how your arm is hanging, that dislocation might just save your life. So, get up there, and I’ll give you a boost.”
He stared at her, looking as if he wasn’t going to listen before he huffed, then reached for the opening. Foster appeared at the lip, blood dripping down his face from a cut across his brow. He didn’t speak just grabbed Chase’s right arm and started pulling.
Chase shifted back and forth, trying to squeeze his shoulders through. Grunting whenever the left one moved. Mac positioned herself beneath him, giving him that boost until he finally scraped free, his shirt ripping in the process.
He cleared the roof just as something impacted the rear of the Bronco, pitching it forward, again. Burying the entire front end underwater. The force tossed Mac against the windshield, slamming her into the stump still lodged against the frame. Water rushed over her head, quickly filling the SUV as it slid along the riverbed.
Dead.
That’s what she’d be in another thirty seconds. When her air ran out because she couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight against the sheer volume of water holding her against that stump. Like a rip tide refusing to let go. She clawed at the passenger seat, trying to wrap her hand around the side just enough to counter the raging current, when Foster’s fingers closed around her wrist.
That got her moving. Had her up and slipping through that opening then out. She crested the surface a moment later, Foster still holding her arm. All that fast-moving water rushing past them as he dragged her over to the bank, his sheer strength stopping her from continuing down the river.
Kash was on the bank, grabbing both their hands and yanking them up. Falling back on his ass in order to get them clear. Mac collapsed on the muddy ground, glancing at the Bronco over her shoulder, but it was already fifty feet away, the back bumper rising out of the water before tumbling over and disappearing around the next bend.
Kash grunted, moving over her. “Are you nuts? If Foster wasn’t built like a damn tank with the unrelenting persistence of one, you would have been killed.”
Mac snorted. “Never leave a teammate behind, right?”
Kash simply shook his head, looking back as sirens wailed in the distance. “Sounds like the cavalry’s finally here. You two okay? Because we’re not out of the woods, yet.”
She nodded, pushing onto her elbows. She wanted to stand, but she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her.
Foster rose beside her, offering his hand. She accepted, and he practically launched her off the ground and against his chest. He didn’t speak, just wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. As if he was worried she’d float away.
Mac rested her head against his shoulder, sharing his warmth as shivers raked through her.
He sighed, easing back then tucking a handful of wet strands behind her ear. “You’re definitely in the first stages of hypothermia.”
“I’m not the only one whose lips are blue.”
“But I wasn’t pinned underwater for a full minute.” His nostrils flared, his eyes wide — as if he was staring at a ghost instead of her. “I distinctly remember telling you to be careful.”
She sighed. “I couldn’t leave him.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.” He took a step back and grabbed her hand. “Come on. You need a blanket and someone to check you over. You’re bleeding.”
“Says the guy with a crater across his forehead.”