Page 40

Thirty-nine

THEIR SPEED INCREASED as they flung around the switchback, entering a zigzag section of road, but another decline lay ahead.

Please , Father , give us safety in this moment. Please don’t let any harm come to Riley.

“Grey.”

His name on her sweet lips burrowed deep in his heart. He reached over and clutched her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

They barreled down the hill.

“Grey...”

I love you , he wanted to scream, but he bit his tongue and grasped her hand tighter. “We’re going into that snow embankment,” he said, indicating the wall of snow the plows had left along the side of the hill.

“Are you crazy?”

“It’s our only chance not to go over the edge. Brace yourself.” Please , Lord , let no harm come to her. Not Riley.

She gripped his hand harder.

They plowed forward and slammed into the snow embankment. His head lashed forward, nailing the steering wheel with a thwack—the truck too old to have air bags. Stars lit his eyes. He looked over at Riley. She held her head.

Fear tracked through him. “You okay?”

“Fine. I just hit my head on the dash.”

He squinted in the darkness engulfing them. He turned on the overhead light. The ruptured snow wall collapsed down, enclosing the truck in a white cocoon. One focus at a time, and right now, Riley was it.

“You’re bleeding.”

She reached her fingers to her forehead and pulled them away. Blood clung to them.

“Here,” he said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket.

“Thanks.” She held it to her wound.

“Apply a little pressure to get it to clot.”

She nodded, wincing as she did so.

“How’s your neck?”

“Tender. What about yours?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve got a bloody nose.”

He’d been so preoccupied with her that he hadn’t noticed the warm liquid drizzling down his face.

“Here,” she said, handing him the handkerchief back.

“No, you keep it.” He gently moved her hand back to the cut on her temple.

“What are we going to do?”

He tried the doors, but they were too packed in by snow. “I’m going to call for help.” He lifted his cell, and his heart sank. Dead.

“I’ve got no signal,” she said, shifting her phone around to try to get one.

They’d have to wait for help. Pray someone other than Kevin found them. “I’m going to try and see if I can get something up on the antenna to alert anyone driving by.”

“Smart idea.”

He rolled down the window, and snow fell in. He managed to get a rag he found in the glove box up on the antenna, then he rolled the window back up, leaving an inch for air to keep the exhaust from building up in the truck if the tail pipe was blocked, and given the snow that tumbled down behind the truck, he had a feeling it was.

“I found a flashlight under the seat,” she said. “And a knife, but don’t suppose that’ll do us much good.”

“No, but the flashlight will.” He propped it facing out the back window.

Riley sat, her arms wrapped about her, the flush of cold coloring her cheeks and nose.

“You’re freezing,” he said as wind whistled through the window’s opening.

“It’s better than dying from exhaust fumes,” she said.

“No arguments here.”

A voice echoed in the distance. It was muffled like it was working its way through water.

“Here,” he hollered, straightening.

The voice grew a little louder, and snow began to shift.

“Here,” he called again.

“Someone found us,” Riley said, closing her eyes, her lips moving in silent prayer.

Scraping and slushing sounded at the rear of the truck. A shovel rasping in the snow.

Soon the rear windshield was clear, and a semi’s lights permeated the vehicle.

A man waved. “I’m going to get you out,” he said.

Riley smiled, and Greyson offered a wave of gratitude. More than the man would ever know. Eventually Kevin would be back on their trail, and if they had been still stuck in the snow embankment when he found them, they’d have been sitting ducks.