Page 8 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

It happened so fast.

Elias clawed for something to stop the spinning, but his hands only caught smaller debris as the current tossed him like a dead fish. He had no control. His lungs burned. Freezing water charged up his nose. Mud and cloudy river water kept him from determining which way was up.

It shouldn’t be this hard. The water’s depth had reached his waist. He should be able to kick to the surface—or at least just stand up—but agonizing seconds stretched as he remained clutched in the river’s grasp. His pack worked against him, pulling and keeping him down.

Sayles. Where was Sayles?

She’d been standing right next to him. Elias twisted his torso, tried to pinpoint the sun above him. Only to remember the clouds had rolled in, blocking out the sun and turning the Virgin River into a raging beast.

Pain ignited along one forearm and pulled a silent scream from his chest. Water replaced the last few remnants of oxygen in a rush. But then his boot hit something solid. Dirt kicked up around him. The river bottom. He shoved everything he had into breaking the surface.

The cold burned down his throat as he inhaled greedy gasps. Once. Twice. River water beat against his chest, so much deeper here than when they’d come through the first time. Hell, he didn’t recognize this section of the Narrows. He wasn’t sure if he was even still on the trail. “Sayles!”

Her name scraped up his throat as a plea. She had to be here. The current would’ve swept her downstream with him, right? They should be in the same location. “Sayles!”

No answer.

It took more time than it should have to get his feet under him.

Stinging pain rippled down his forearm. Damn it.

Blood combined with river water and ran in rivulets around his protruding veins and muscles, then dripped into the current.

The gash had cut deep, past several layers of skin and into muscle.

He’d need stitches, but he couldn’t think about that right now.

Sayles was out here somewhere. Still under the surface.

Elias shucked his pack free of his shoulders. He couldn’t maneuver these waters with it adding to his weight. Hanging it on a thick branch of a tree that looked as though it’d given up the ghost years ago, he faced the river. Searching for something—anything—that gave away her position. “Sayles!”

An average swimmer could hold their breath for a couple minutes. How long had she been underwater? Panic swept away his control as easily as that log that’d pummeled them. His heart rate skyrocketed, breathing going shallow. He could do this. He had to do this. For Sayles.

He dived. The rush of water shocked his nerve endings and nearly stole the breath he’d taken.

Leaves and stringy plants clung to his neck and face as he battled the current upstream and blocked his vision.

Clouded water strained his eyes, but he wasn’t giving up the search. Not until he knew she was safe.

Her uniform and pack blended into the black-and-white world beneath the surface.

Nothing to help her stand out against the very forces she’d sworn to protect.

Elias surfaced as the burn in his chest became too much.

His vision darkened at the edges, and he shook his head back and forth to get a grip. Damn it. Where was she? “Sayles!”

Then he saw it.

The iconic Stetson all national park rangers were required to wear as part of their uniform.

It dipped and rose as it came closer. He jumped for it, not daring to let it get away from him as easily as she had.

She must’ve gone under farther upstream.

Too far from his current location. Grabbing for his pack, he put what energy he had left into hauling his overworked and tired legs to the edge of the river.

His brain told him it’d be faster to get to her in the shallower depths, but he quickly learned there was no shallow portion in this section of the Narrows. “I’m coming. Just hang on.”

He hadn’t made it more than a few hundred feet before his heart bottomed out. There. A hand shot out to grasp on to the side an oversize log pinning her smaller body under the water’s surface. Elias didn’t question his instincts, launching himself back into the current. “Sayles!”

Her attempts to pull herself free were slowing every second it took him to get to her in the middle of the river. She couldn’t raise her head above the surface. She was drowning right in front of him. “I’m coming!”

He wasn’t sure if she could hear him over the rush of her own pulse or the Virgin River’s constant roar.

Elias buried the urge to throw himself across the log trying to get to her on the other side and rounded the closest end instead.

The log had to measure more than twenty feet in height and at least three feet in diameter.

It’d lodged itself in a collection of rocks jutting from the river’s edge, most of it free of the water.

It would take everything he had to lift it, but he didn’t have a choice.

Sayles’s free hand slapped against the bark.

Too slow. She had a minute, maybe less. He widened his stance at the opposite end of the log, secured his hands underneath and lifted as if his life depended on it.

The downed tree rolled in his grip and slipped free.

Pain stung across his palms, but he’d have to worry about that later.

Her hand had stopped moving. He was going to lose her.

He tried again. The log protested as he hefted it off the rocks and let the current take control.

The heavy weight rolled straight over her torso before moving onto its initial course downstream, but Sayles didn’t surface.

His entire body screamed for release as he hiked straight through the current to get to her. “Come on. Come on.”

Elias drove his hands beneath the surface, fisting her uniform collar and dragged her up.

Her head fell back on her shoulders, skin paler than he remembered.

A quick scan of their surroundings didn’t give him many options to get her out of the river’s grasp apart from the same collection of rocks that’d caught the log.

He hauled her frame against his. “Stay with me, Sayles. Almost there.”

As gently as he could, he laid her across the rocks and pressed his ear to her chest. She was still alive.

Angling her chin into position, he set his interlaced palms over her sternum and administered compressions just as he’d been taught before being allowed to work in the field.

Water dripped from the edges of her mouth, but her eyes remained closed. “Breathe. You can do it.”

Coughs jerked her torso upward, water spewing across his chest and face. Green eyes peeled open and scanned the sky before landing on him. Elias turned her onto her side to let gravity do its work on her lungs.

“There you go. Take it easy.” Smoothing small circles into her back, he let her take as much time as she needed before sitting up.

“What…happened?” Sayles grabbed for her throat. Most likely to counter the burn clawing up. From what he’d read, the Virgin River was categorized as fresh water, but all the mud and water toxins held opportunity for bacterial infection. She needed medical attention.

“We got railed by a tree.” The bruising pain in his ribs told him there’d be marks within the next couple of hours.

“I got stuck.” Her memory was intact. Good. They might not have to worry about brain damage, though more than three minutes without oxygen could have lasting effects they couldn’t assess here in the middle of the damn park. “My boot…”

“Shhh.” He couldn’t seem to stop himself from touching her, from making sure she was real, that she’d survived. “You don’t have to talk. Just rest. All right? Here.” Pulling the metal water bottle from his pack, he offered it. She had water of her own, but his was more accessible.

She took it without hesitation and guzzled a few mouthfuls.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand—despite her entire body being soaked—she handed it back.

Her uniform clung to her in every way, showcasing lean muscle honed from countless hours on these trails.

She seemed smaller all of a sudden, that mask of confidence dripping away with the water from her clothing. “You saved me.”

“That’s what partners are for.” He took a few swigs of his own water. “Was I just supposed to watch you drown?”

A shiver rocked through her shoulders. “We need to get dry. The sun will be going down soon, and the longer we’re stuck in these clothes, the higher chances we’ll start feeling the symptoms of hypothermia.”

Another tremor shifted down her back. Could the symptoms already be settling in? Elias didn’t want to find out. “Yeah. Okay. Where are we?”

Sayles seemed to realize they’d ended up in a completely different section of the trail than when they’d been hit by that log.

Craning her head back, she pointed to the crest of a red rock cliff southeast of their position.

Her hand shook, and she quickly brought it back down.

She checked her smartwatch. “That’s Mountain of Mystery.

We passed it about thirty minutes ago. We haven’t lost much ground, but almost dying set us back.

At this pace, we won’t make it to Orderville Canyon Junction before the sun sets. ”

“That’s not good.” Trying to navigate these waters when he could see was challenging enough.

But losing their limited light? Not to mention dredging through this river without the benefit of the sun’s warmth would kill them.

At this point their mission to catch up with the Hitchhiker Killer was on hold.

All they could think about was survival.

Elias scanned the canyon walls on either side of them.

“Is there anywhere else we can set up camp for the night?”

She nodded. Nothing more than a couple jerks of her chin. “There’s an outcropping of rocks near where we went under, but it’s not large enough for two tents, and if there’s another flash flood, we’ll be caught in the current.”

“I trust you, Ranger Green.” And for some reason, he meant it.

He offered her a hand, noting the cool paleness of her fingers as he helped her to her feet.

Her leg shot out to catch her balance, and Elias was right there.

First chance he got, he’d take a look at those playing cards of hers and see what the deck said about hypothermia.

Because right now, he was pretty sure Sayles was trying to hide the impact of drowning on her body.

“I think we’re past formalities, Agent Broyles. You know, considering you saved my life and all. You can call me Sayles.” Stepping down off the collection of rocks he’d brought her to, she locked her attention onto her hand. Onto the blood coating it.

“Does that mean you’re going to call me Elias?” Damn. He’d forgotten about his arm in the chaos of trying to make sure he didn’t have to carry her out of this canyon. Blood seeped into the crevices of his palm and between his fingers.

She didn’t answer, closing the distance between the, and grabbed for his arm.

Her thumb slipped over his pulse point before she angled one arm free from her pack.

Keeping her fingers wrapped around his wrist, she unpacked her first aid kit one-handed.

“This is going to need stitches, but we don’t have long before we lose the small amount of light left.

I’m going to wrap it for now. Once we reach the outcropping, I can put you back together. ”

“Like Humpty Dumpty?” His attempt to lighten the mood was lost in the glazed film overtaking the green in her eyes.

She circled long strips of medical gauze around his forearm before repacking her kit and heading back upstream. Minutes—was it an hour?—passed in silence as before as they charged for a dry section of rock a mere few feet above the river’s surface. “This is where we’ll camp tonight.”

“Looks like you got your wish.” Elias sized up the slightly uneven elongated rectangle of rock two of them were meant to sleep on tonight. “We’re going to be sharing.”