Page 5

The wind kicked up, twirling small eddies across the cliff.

The hollow echo of the coastal foghorn sounded in the distance.

Foster couldn’t see the rotating light, but there was no mistaking the occasional glow through the fog way off on the horizon.

And if he hadn’t been hooked up to a rope on the side of a cliff, he would have found the storm invigorating.

The sheer power of the waves as they crashed against the jagged rocks, shooting water twenty feet into the air, nothing short of breath-taking.

Until all that rain had the dirt beneath them slipping away, dropping that van a few more inches as the entire slope shifted. Kash grabbed the next person, barely getting them secured before he was racing up that hill. Helping the line along.

Foster stuck his head into the van. Chase was working on one of the last two passengers, sticking something in his chest as he muttered to himself. He glanced over his shoulder, cursing when the van shifted again, nearly knocking him on his ass.

Foster was at Chase’s side a second later, grabbing the man’s upper body as he motioned for Chase to take his legs. His buddy scowled but moved, helping Foster carry the man out as the vehicle grated along the rocks, the screeching noise sounding around them like some kind of evil premonition.

They cleared the van as it shimmied sideways, glass breaking on the far side. Kash grabbed the edge of the spinal board, clipping the hook around it as Chase set the guy down then dove back inside, emerging a few moments later with the last victim slung over his shoulders.

Kash reached for him, locking his fist around Chase’s harness as the vehicle rocked toward them, looking as if it might fully tip.

Foster released the tension on his rope enough to drop another twenty feet and grab Zain by the back of his harness.

He yanked them both to the left, kicking his feet clear of the van a moment before the entire slope collapsed, hurtling the vehicle down the rocky cliff and onto the rocks.

Glass and metal shot into the air with the incoming breaker, crashing back into the water and disappearing beneath the next monster wave.

Zain relaxed against Foster’s chest, shaking his head as he looked up at him. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

Foster grinned. “Not a chance. You good?”

“Still breathing, thanks to you. But I didn’t want to stop trying to keep it steady until I knew Chase was out.”

“You two are freaking nuts, you know that?”

“Says the pilot hanging on the end of a rope.”

“Don’t remind me.”

He eased Zain over, then made his way back up.

Chase was perched on the edge, his damn pride somehow keeping him and his patient glued to the side of the cliff as the wind and rain tried to blow them off.

Foster shouldered up beside him on the right as Zain moved in on the left, the two of them taking turns helping Chase climb as the other kept the tension taut on his rope.

It took twice as long to crest the cliff, but they made it.

Atticus had Zain and Chase’s trucks repositioned, the other patient already in Zain’s cab. “I just talked to emergency dispatch. If we can get everyone to the clinic, they’ll arrange for transport once they’ve got an available unit. They’ve got doctors en route, so they’ll be in good hands.”

The men nodded, ushering everyone over to the trucks.

Foster stepped back as the last person scrambled in, waving to his buddies. “You guys go. I’ll catch a ride with Atticus.”

Zain glanced at the older man then back to Foster. “Are you sure that’s in your best interest? He doesn’t look like your biggest fan right now.”

“The guy’s as ornery as a mule, but it’s all good. And don’t eat all the pizza if you bastards get back before me.”

“No promises.”

Foster flipped them off, nodding at Chase when he mouthed that he’d wait for Foster at the clinic. The trucks swerved onto the road, spraying out mud and rocks as they fishtailed on the slick surface, then headed for town.

Foster darted over to Atticus’ truck, shaking out his hand in an effort to ease the ache. Though, he had a feeling nothing short of a couple beers and a hot shower would work. “Are we good to go or have you found someone else who needs to be rescued?”

Atticus snorted. “Don’t tempt me, son.”

Foster pursed his lips. While he knew Atticus was more bark than bite, it didn’t stop him from wanting to smack the old coot. “Just get in the damn truck.”

He opened the passenger door when a low whop echoed through the fog.

He paused, staring toward the ocean when a chopper materialized out of the fog and rain, screaming toward them.

Fifty feet off the deck with twin vortices trailing behind it.

It banked hard to the right, making a tight turn before coming into a high hover over the cliff.

Atticus palmed his CB radio, clicking the mic as he all but growled into the phone. “What the hell are you doing, Mac? You’re timed out, and it’s pissing like the apocalypse out here.”

There was a blast of static, then a scratchy voice. “Did you seriously think I’d just sit it out? When you had multiple victims?”

“Yes, I did because that was a direct order. Besides, we’re done. Everyone’s en route?—”

“Not done. There’s someone near the bottom of the cliff about fifty feet to your starboard. Probably just out of sight from where you are. I can’t tell if they’re alive or not, but they won’t be unless we get to them. Now.”

Foster cursed then took off, scanning the rocks as he made his way along the edge. He was just about to question the pilot’s sanity when he spotted a flash of yellow amidst the frothy spray.

He darted back to the truck, shaking his head as he looked at Atticus. “I’ve got our vic. But the winch cable isn’t going to reach that far.”

The voice snorted, the sound higher than he’d expected. Softer. “Then, it’s a good thing I came along. I’ve got Charlie with me but he’s only qualified to work the hoist. Which means I need someone to harness up and get our vic into the basket I send down.”

Foster froze. Actually froze because… he was their only option. And that meant facing the real possibility that he’d end up inside the helicopter.