Page 14 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

She was gone.

Elias blinked up into that dark, raging sky.

Cliffs angled into his vision. Hell. His body ached.

He couldn’t feel his toes or fingers. Something was digging into his back.

Rain pattered against his face as he raised his upper body off the ground.

The river receded from the slot canyon a few feet away, its icy fingers trying to take him with it.

Water sprayed into his face from above. That waterfall.

The one they’d stopped under before the killer had tried to shoot them. At least he knew where he’d ended up.

He remembered jumping in after Sayles. And then…

Nothing. He should’ve been swept downstream with her.

Maybe if he’d spent the past few months in the gym instead of stalking convenience stores along the interstate for signs of their killer—and, let’s be honest, road snacks—he might’ve been.

Thank heaven for the extra few pounds he’d gained on this case.

“Damn it.” Pain seared through his rib cage as he twisted.

Blood. Debris. Elias sucked in a deep breath as he pulled at the stained edges of his shirt to get a better view.

A twig, no more than six inches in length and about as round as his little finger, had embedded itself between two ribs.

Thankfully not deep enough to deflate a lung.

He set himself back down. Thought about what to do next.

Sayles was out here. Because of him. Because of his insistence of taking this trail to escape the shooter. It’d been a bad call that might cost the ranger her life.

He’d abandoned his pack in the slot canyon. The winding maze of rock and smooth lines kept him from spotting it from here, but he couldn’t risk going back onto the main trail without it. Lifting his head again, he pinched the middle of the twig. And pulled.

Agony ripped through his torso. His scream bounced off the surrounding rock and shot it straight into the clouds above. Staring at the wound, he counted off the seconds. Waiting. It didn’t seem to be—

Blood bubbled to fill the hole the twig had left behind, and he clamped a hand to apply pressure. Little humor coated the laugh rocking through him. “Well, now you’re going to bleed to death. Great work, Broyles.”

Damn it. He needed Sayles. Her know-how, her first aid kit.

Elias hauled himself to his feet, stumbling as a rush of dizziness attacked.

Pea-size rocks shifted beneath his feet.

He spotted thousands of them between him and his pack now that the slot canyon had drained, each one working to slow him down.

One hand pressed into his side, he followed the winding path to the area where he’d dropped his pack.

Memories of Sayles’s scream, his name tearing from her throat, as she tried to reach for his hand threatened to convince him to turn around.

Forget about the pack. Go after her. But he wouldn’t make it far without addressing his wound.

He needed that pack. Setting his foot against a blocklike section of stone, Elias tried to climb one-handed.

Wouldn’t work. The angles and the slick surface of rock worked against him, but taking pressure off his wound guaranteed he’d bleed out that much faster.

There was no other way.

The section of the trail where he’d left his pack was at least eight feet above.

He’d have to two-hand it and pray the damn thing hadn’t been washed away.

He could do this. He had to do this. For Sayles.

He wasn’t going to lose another life on his watch.

He’d promised to keep her alive. To make up for the past by protecting her throughout this manhunt.

Nothing would stop him from finding her.

Focused on how he’d get up the incline, he took short breaths, hyping himself up. “Come on.”

He released the pressure on his wound. Blood instantly swarmed to the surface and spread through the soaked material of his shirt.

Ignoring the bleeding, he shoved off the foothold and stretched one hand overhead, locking onto a handhold above.

His other hand braced against the wall to his left.

Now he just had to climb. The pain swelled.

His heart rate skyrocketed. Warm liquid pooled along the waistband of his pants with every inch he climbed.

Seconds stretched into minutes. Minutes into an hour.

His fingers ached as he tightened his hold against slick rock determined to buck him free.

Finally, Elias threw himself over the lip of the incline, sprawling out across the cold stone with nothing left to give.

And faced a miniature cliff off the other side.

The world threatened to tear out from under him as he caught himself from going over the twenty-foot-plus drop.

His pack dug into his shoulder. Luck. Pure luck he hadn’t kicked it over.

Dragging himself back from the edge, he focused on stopping the leak from his side.

Elias extracted his first aid kit and popped the lid.

His vision wavered as he pressed his hand deeper into the wound.

What had Sayles said about these waters being infested?

Something about water toxins. He had to clean the wound first. Make sure it didn’t get infected.

That was what she’d done on his thigh. All right. He’d have to use his drinking water.

“Clean the wound.” He could do that. Lifting his shirt, he pressed the hem beneath his chin to pinch it against his chest. Brown bits of dirt and crusted blood clung to the edges.

He unscrewed the top to his water bottle and irrigated the hole as best as he could.

The angle didn’t give him complete visibility to ensure everything had been cleaned out, but it would have to work for now.

Time was running out. No burn this time.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

He used the gauze pads in the kit to dry around the twig hole, sprayed the blood-clotting spray and replaced the old gauze with a new layer before taping it down. “Okay. You might not die today.”

He couldn’t say the same for his partner.

Repacking everything as quickly as he could, Elias dragged his pack after him since Sayles had cut the straps in order to save his life.

He descended the drop. The pain in his rib cage downgraded from a throb to an annoyance, but there was no telling if he’d done any of it right to avoid infection.

He retraced his steps toward the main trail.

The river hadn’t finished throwing its temper tantrum.

Water levels were still much too high to navigate it safely, but the time for hesitation had passed.

He had to find Sayles. Had to avoid getting shot, too.

He patted the holster at his back. Hell.

His gun. Scanning the area in tight circles, he couldn’t see where the weapon had gone.

Which created a whole lot of problems in and of itself.

He couldn’t risk hunting the Hitchhiker Killer without some form of protection or having some kid find a gun along a very public and popular trail when the park reopened. “Now’s not the time.”

Elias dove straight back into the river’s grip, taking it downstream. Sayles had known. She’d told him the risks of getting caught in the slot canyon during a flash flood, and he hadn’t listened. Now she was the one paying the price. That pressure kept him moving. Kept him angry. “Sayles!”

No sign of her natural-colored uniform or pack.

No body caught on one of the many logs stretching across the trail or rocks.

The current forced him to pick up his pace when his body wanted nothing more than to rest after being thrown around as much as he had been on this trail.

One thing was for sure. Once he caught the killer, he’d never hike this trail again.

Sayles was smart. She knew this trail better than anyone.

If there was a chance of survival, she would’ve taken it by getting to higher ground.

He scanned the domineering cliffs watching over him and anyone else who came through this insane maze.

From this position, there was no telling whether he could climb higher.

Everything looked too smooth. He’d try farther downstream and hike back if needed, but his gut told him she’d gotten out. That she’d saved herself.

“I’m coming.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, Sayles or himself, that he wasn’t going to stand by and fight this alone.

That he wasn’t going to fail her like he’d failed the witness in his last investigation.

Exhaustion slowed him down, but he wouldn’t let it get the best of him.

His partner needed him, and he’d be there for her the same way he’d be there for Grant if he were in this situation.

Water had long infiltrated his gear and pooled in his boots.

He didn’t want to imagine the blisters he’d leave this canyon with, but he was sure Sayles would help him with those as she’d helped him before.

That was the kind of woman she was. She’d guarded that heart of hers against any threat thanks to her ex, but there were still pieces that couldn’t be killed off.

And for the first time since that disaster of a date two years ago, Elias found himself wanting one of those pieces.

Wanting more of her smile. More of her determination and courage and intensity in his life.

The backtalk and teasing and biting comments.

He wanted it all. She’d lit something in him that’d been buried in him.

Made him feel alive. He wasn’t ready to give that up.

Every muscle in his legs protested the downstream descent, but he caught sight of a thin edge of rock that seemed to lead higher up the cliff face on the opposite side of the trail.

If Sayles had escaped the flash flood, it seemed the perfect spot to gain the advantage until the storm died down.

Rain kept pummeling down on top of him, weighing him down and increasing the risk of crossing, but there really wasn’t any other choice.

Not when it came to Sayles. He’d dragged her into this mess. He would be the one to get her out.

Elias charged through the raging currents, avoiding whitecaps and sticking to the boulders still peeking above the surface.

It took longer than he wanted with the injury in his side, but within a few minutes, he’d reached the opposite riverbank.

The edge of rock climbing overhead was nothing more than a thin, graveled trail rangers had likely advised hikers to avoid, but he’d take the chance. To find her.

His thighs screamed for relief as he ascended the incline, one foot after the other, until he’d reached a flatter section ending in nothing more than a half cave that provided little to no protection against the onslaught of rain and wind.

Except there was something…functional about the small cavern.

A flat rock took up residence in the center with fine grain sand kicked up around it.

As if someone had indeed used this undersize barricade to escape the floods of the past two days.

Heavier drops of water collected along the arched entrance and tapped against his shoulders and scalp as he moved inside.

He barely managed to stand at his full height.

Could stretch his arms out straight and brush both walls with his fingertips.

Someone had been here.

The footprints in the sand had gone undisturbed.

And there. Against the wall. Elias crouched to a spread of tracks, picking up a tube of antibiotic ointment.

The same brand she’d used to tend his thigh wound yesterday.

Sayles. She’d been here. Right here. Had left this tube as a message, knowing he wouldn’t stop the search, which meant she hadn’t been alone.

He pocketed the ointment and turned to face the arched entrance. They had to be close. On the move. Stepping out into the storm, Elias hiked higher. “I’m coming for you, partner.”