Page 12 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

He slammed into Sayles.

Elias caught the slight exhale of air crushed from her chest a split second before the river consumed them with cold, watery teeth as sharp as knives. Using his full weight against her, he held them beneath its surface.

Sayles dragged her nails down his arms, over his face. Drawing blood. Fighting against his hold. Fighting for her life. Her kicks missed their targets and failed to dissuade his hold around her.

Someone had shot at them.

Pressure built in his chest as oxygen burned out of his system. He couldn’t give the shooter a second chance of hitting his mark, but they wouldn’t last long in the river, either. He had to make a choice.

Elias fisted her uniform collar and hauled her above the surface. Water dripped into his eyes, compromised his vision. Her gasp infiltrated his concentration a split second before strong hands shoved against his chest.

Sayles’s hat was gone. Lost to the river. She didn’t seem to notice as he hauled her behind his back, corralling her into the branching slot canyon they’d stopped in a minute before, his front to hers. Dark hair streaked down her face in rivulets of water. “Get off me—”

“Someone just shot at us.” He pressed his hand against her mouth.

Pain sliced through the numbness brought on by their swim.

Despite the frigid temperatures of the river, her warmth seeped past his soaked clothing and gear.

His heart thundered hard, loud enough to drown out the clapping of the waterfall at her back and the roar of the river at his.

They were at a disadvantage here. He couldn’t hear a damn thing as thunder rumbled overhead.

The slot canyon they’d taken shelter in seemed to vibrate along with the storm.

Rain only added to his distress. Could they survive another flash flood?

Did they have a choice? His training clicked into place, and he ran through their options.

None of them great. “Where does this waterfall trail lead?”

“West for about three-quarters of a mile, but it’s a dead end and difficult to navigate in places.” She shook her head. “There’s no way you’d be able to fit through the slots, even if you took off your gear.”

They were cornered. Damn it. Elias risked getting a visual of the shooter, but where he’d caught movement on a ledge above the river a few minutes ago, there was nothing but a flash of lightning.

The killer was on the move. Aware he wasn’t alone.

They’d lost the element of surprise, and Elias wouldn’t risk Sayles’s life to get it back.

He spun her around, shoving her down that too-small branch off the main trail.

Water kicked up as she stumbled forward. “Then that’s where we hide.”

“No, it’s not.” She turned back into him. “The Narrows feeds this slot canyon, and there’s no drainage at the end of this branch. If we’re on it much longer, it’ll flood with no way for us to escape. We have to go back to the main trail. We have to go back downstream.”

Where the water had barely crested his ankles while they’d taken a break, it’d climbed to the middle of his shins.

One of the first signs of danger. Soon that roar would fill his head, and they’d be right back where they didn’t want to be.

In the middle of a flash flood. Except this time, they might not make it out alive.

“How long does it take for this branch to flood?”

Elias unholstered his weapon from the small of his back.

“You can’t be serious.” Sayles shifted her weight between her feet, swiping hair out of her face as the rains intensified. They were protected from the gusts whistling down the canyon, but there was no escaping what came next.

“When did I give you the impression I don’t take my job seriously?” Disengaging the magazine, he counted the number of bullets in his weapon, then slammed it back into place with the butt of his palm. “How long, Sayles?”

“If a flood hits, five, maybe ten minutes,” she said. “But I’ve never been dumb enough to test that theory for myself.”

“Well, today you get to find out the answer. Let’s go.

” He secured his hand in hers, pulling her past the waterfall and deeper into the unknown.

Smooth rock scraped against his shoulders within the first twenty feet as they navigated over rock and gravel-size obstacles.

Debris laced the edges of the canyon and added to the suffocation factor.

“This is a mistake.” Pulling her hand from his, she surged ahead to take the lead. Always on alert. Always in control. It was what he’d asked of her, and if they were going to make it out of this alive, it would be because of her. “We tell hikers to avoid this section of the trail for a reason.”

Elias checked over his shoulder, weapon in hand as they retreated. As much as he wanted to charge back onto the main trail to confront the son of a bitch who’d taken a shot at them, he wasn’t going to lose another innocent life. Never again. “Would you rather get shot?”

He imagined it took everything she had not to respond with whatever retort she’d come up with. Now wasn’t the time. They had to move as a team, make decisions as a team. Partners in the purest sense.

Ripples of rock—so much like cresting waves—jutted out and scratched at his arm as he passed.

The scratches Sayles had inflicted in the river hadn’t broken skin, but he couldn’t ignore the sting as adrenaline drained, either.

He couldn’t blame her in her panic. And, hell, it wasn’t the only way she’d left her mark on him these past days.

The walls closed in on them, leaving no more than two feet to pass through.

Water surged from the direction of the main trail at their back, climbing up his pant legs.

“It’s starting. This canyon is going to flood. We need to hurry.” Sayles picked up the pace, charging at a blockade of smooth stone that looked as though it’d been set directly in their path. They’d have to climb over to keep going. “Come on.”

A second bullet sprayed dust and chunks of rock into Elias’s face. Mere inches away.

“Watch out!” He launched forward, using his body to shield Sayles as much as possible. Pain ignited along his arm as fractures of rock rained down from above. Elias spun. And caught the dark shape using the canyon as cover. He pulled the trigger. Enough times to ensure she had a lead. “Go, go, go!”

He couldn’t tell if she’d followed his order but trusted Sayles to take care of herself. His pack snagged between the two walls as he retreated backward toward that rock obstacle blocking their path. Elias tried to push through, but his upper body refused to fit.

Then he heard it. The roar.

Water bubbled and turned white as it assaulted the thin slot canyon as violently as a pack of wolves closing in on their prey. He’d lost sight of the killer.

“Elias, take my hand!” Sayles’s warning barely registered over the thud of his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

The shooter had disappeared, presumably to find higher ground, but had robbed him and Sayles of their escape.

He couldn’t fit through the slot, just as she had warned.

His pack had caught on one of the rocks.

Elias grabbed on to her, his grip slipping through hers.

Once. Twice. She climbed back down. Giving up her own escape.

In an instant, she’d sliced through the straps of his pack with one of those multi-tools and pulled him through the gap.

Her hand was in his before she maneuvered him ahead.

Water lapped at their heels, rising faster than he expected.

It was different here than on the main trail where the flood could spread out. “Move it!”

They had mere minutes before this canyon was underwater. They’d be lucky if they managed to escape at all, and noting fresh water lines ten, even fifteen feet up the red rock walls, he wasn’t sure the chances were good.

Cold seeped around his feet as he climbed higher.

They couldn’t keep up this pace. His lungs were on fire, his heart ready to beat straight out of his chest. But Sayles remained a constant presence at his back.

A comfort in the storm. He reached the top of the incline, ready to sink to his knees in relief.

Sayles’s boots slipped against wet stone.

Over and over. The water level was catching up.

Going to take her from him. Her eyes widened in realization, and unfiltered fear iced out the confidence he’d become accustomed to over the past two days.

Rain plastered her hair against her face, her uniform clinging to her frame. She couldn’t get a good grip.

“I’ve got you.” He grabbed for the nearest handhold in the rock with one hand and stretched for her. They weren’t going to die today. He wasn’t going to lose another innocent life. A foot separated their hands with no way to make up for the difference. “You can do it. Just a little farther.”

Her hand trembled as she reached up the ninety-degree incline toward him above.

They were going to make it. They had to make it.

He couldn’t do this without her. The muscles in his jaw ached under the pressure of his teeth.

Water climbed to her waist, sucking her into its icy depths, robbing her of any leverage.

The rock walls seemed to close in, squeezing the air from his chest as he tried to face her fully.

It was impossible with the limited space.

Acceptance smoothed fear from her expression.

She lowered her hand a fraction of an inch.

And everything in Elias went cold. He shook his head. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare give up. Grab my hand.”

“I can’t.” Weathered red rock betrayed one of the very rangers fighting day in and day out to protect it. River water infiltrated her mouth as she clawed to keep her head above water. Her pack. Her pack would drag her down.

“Come on! You didn’t give up on proving you didn’t kill your ex.

Don’t give up now, damn it.” Pain flared through his shoulders as he forced his body into the unnatural position on his stomach.

Rock bit into his ribs, but he pushed it aside.

It didn’t matter. He just needed to close that distance between them.

It wasn’t going to end like this. Not after everything they’d already survived.

Not after what she’d been through. This park had become a safe haven when she’d needed it the most. He wouldn’t let it kill her. “Now, reach for me!”

Rain splattered against her face as she tried one more time.

Her fingertips slipped against his. A last bite of warmth shot through his system.

Her boots couldn’t get the right angle against the stone.

Water churned around her—angry and chaotic—as the river started draining back onto the main trail.

Taking her farther from him. Sayles slapped her hands out to grab on to something, anything, to fight against that tide.

But it was no use. The walls were too weathered and smooth from centuries of storms just like this one.

That foot between them turned into two. Three.

The storm hadn’t let up. She would die if she got sucked beneath the surface again. “Elias!”

He didn’t know what to do. That sour rise of helplessness burned in his throat.

Elias abandoned his pack and gauged the drop.

Mud and debris made it impossible to measure the depth of the river.

He couldn’t risk diving. He’d have to jump straight in, and he inhaled a deep breath.

His boots took the brunt of the impact as he hit the water’s surface.

The river swallowed him whole, and it took everything he had to get free of the crushing current working to keep him under. Tumbling end over end. “Sayles!”

No answer. She was already gone.