Page 17

Chapter Seven

Mac was on her feet as Foster stared at Kash for a few more seconds, having what she swore was another one of their unspoken conversations before Foster grunted, then took off.

Mac raced behind him, shadowing his every move.

Still scanning the area in case that danger Zain had mentioned jumped out at them.

Foster stopped to clear the road then darted across and down the slight hill on the other side.

He slipped a few times on the wet gravel, catching his balance before he’d actually fallen as he picked his way along the rocky ground, stopping at the edge of a near identical gully.

White water churned through the narrow river, the strong current carrying branches and other debris along the winding path.

Mac shouldered up beside him, searching the surface for any sign of Greer’s Bronco.

She paused at what looked like twin ruts farther up the bank, though with all the rain and mist it was impossible to tell what had made them.

She took a step closer, inhaling when she spotted what looked like the top half of a vehicle, the white color blending in with the raging water. “Beckett!”

That’s all she managed past the lump in her throat — the fear that maybe they’d wasted what little time Chase and Greer had. That all they’d find was the sum of their failures.

Mackenzie didn’t wait for Beckett to follow her outstretched arm, she just took off running, jumping over downed logs and thorny bushes. A few branches clawed at her pants, but she pushed through, stopping on the bank next to the Ford.

The roof was caved inward, a large stump half-buried in the windshield.

Chase was slumped against the steering wheel, water already filling the cabin all the way to the dash.

Mac couldn’t see Greer through the fogged up window but it was obvious they didn’t have much time before the river swallowed them.

Foster tried the doors, but they wouldn’t budge, everything twisted to the point it would take a spreader to get them open. He banged on the glass, staring at Chase as if he could will the man to reply. “Chase!”

Chase jolted upright, shouting when the movement obviously hurt before glancing around the interior. He blinked, finally nodding at Foster when he banged on the glass again before letting his head tilt backwards. “I hear you.”

Foster glanced at her, mouth pinched tight, eyes wary before focusing on Chase. “We’ll get you out, just hold on.”

Chase mumbled something that sounded like him having nowhere else to go, as the water roared past the vehicle, a thick fog curling in around them.

Mac ran to the rear of the Bronco, pointing at the broken window. “There.”

Foster grunted then hopped into the river, nearly getting swept away when a large log hit the back end a foot from where he was standing. The impact tipped the vehicle forward, the sides grating against the rocky slope as it jerked ahead, then stopped, even lower than before.

Foster climbed onto the bumper, clearing any bits of glass from the frame before trying to wedge himself through. But after a couple minutes, it was obvious he wasn’t going to fit.

He slammed the crowbar against the back, glancing up at her. “I can’t fit. Not with it crushed like this.”

Mac held his gaze. “Bet I can.”

She placed the rifle on the bank and was in the water then up on the bumper a few seconds later. Praying she didn’t send the entire vehicle shooting down the rapids simply by altering the weight.

Foster snagged her wrist, eyes narrowed. His nostrils flaring. “Mackenzie…”

“Not my first rescue.”

“But this is different. You’re not in a chopper and it’s personal.”

She swallowed, gagged a bit, but drew herself up. “All the more reason to get this party started. Crowbar.”

He handed her the rod, still holding it. “Just promise me you won’t trade your life for theirs.”

“Would you make that promise?”

He pursed his lips, and she knew he had more honor than to lie to her face. “Be careful.”

“Don’t go anywhere.”

He rolled his eyes as she accepted his help, wiggling back and forth as she tried to shimmy through the narrow space. It took Foster giving her a firm shove before she finally made it inside, more water rushing in with her.

She crawled over the rear seats then up to the front, leaning over the console until she was level with Chase. “Hey.”

Chase motioned toward Greer. “Her pulse is thready and she’s unresponsive. We’re probably looking at internal injuries. You need to get her out. Now.”

Mac nodded. “What about you? Can you move?”

“Just worry about Greer, then we can work on me.”

Mac frowned, wishing she could see beneath the water — check if Chase was hiding something he didn’t want her to know — but there wasn’t time.

Instead, she reached for the roof panels, using the crowbar until the one over Greer finally gave.

Not fully, but with a good amount of pulling and pushing, Chase would probably squeeze through.

Foster was there a moment later, bending the jammed panel forward as much as possible. Though, even with him putting all his weight on it, there wasn’t enough room for him to get through — to take Mac’s place. But at least she wouldn’t have to drag Greer out the back.

It took a bit or work to get Greer’s seatbelt unbuckled and her chair shifted enough that Mac could ease Greer free.

Mac took a breath then plunged beneath the water until she’d wrapped her arms around Greer’s waist in an effort to heave her through the opening.

Foster reached in, bodily lifting Greer clear once Mac had the other woman’s head and shoulders through the hole.

He didn’t even need any help — just his arms under Greer’s and she was out.

Which only highlighted how much higher the water was. How it swirled all the way up to Chase’s shoulders as if freeing Greer had created some kind of vacuum.

Mac turned, her hip still braced on that ridiculously narrow console as she breathed heavily. “Okay, your turn.”

Chase made eye contact as he sighed. “My left leg’s pinned.”

The inklings of fear bubbled in her gut, but she pushed it aside. “Then, let’s unpin it.”

“Mackenzie…”

“No.” She leaned in close, their breath mixing. “I’m not leaving you here. Period. So, get that thought right out of your head.”

“I’m not sure?—”

“I said no. Now, let’s find a way to get that leg free.”

She reached underwater until she was able to squeeze the crowbar between Chase’s seat and the dash, sliding it down enough she was confident it wouldn’t slip out the moment she put any pressure on it.

Chase pressed his torso into the seat as she pulled on the long rod, grunting when nothing happened.

She stopped, shaking her head as she sucked in some air. “There’s no way I can move the steering column.”

“I know. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. There’s no time?—”

“There’s still plenty of time, and I bet my ass I can move the chair. Hold tight.”

She pulled the crowbar out then shifted back, shoving it between the rails and the rear section of the console.

What she hoped would be enough to wrench it back a few inches.

Sweat mixed with the water on her brow as she yanked on the bar, using her foot against the door to give some added strength.

The seat shook, rocking back and forth before sliding an inch.

Mac stopped, her chest heaving, every muscle aching as she leaned over Chase, again. “Any better?”

He cried out as he did something with that leg, the water above him swirling around. “Not enough.”

“Then, I’ll move it more.”

“Mac…”

“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.