Jill Shalvis - Hiding Out At The Circle C

They paralleled the now rushing creek, swollen with the recent rains. Twice Haley nearly slipped in, saved by Cam's sheer strength and will, but her feet had gone numb with cold. A rock gouged her ankle painfully, but Cam wouldn't let her stop.

"Ahead!" he yelled back to her, pointing. She glanced up, breathless, and saw that they'd made a circle. The caves where they'd spent the night loomed a hundred yards in front of them.

No helicopter could get in there without crashing in on the narrow rocks. But between the cliffs and where they stood was an unbelievably high rock-face they'd have to climb. They stood looking up at the jagged cliff and Haley felt dread overwhelm her.

"You can do this," Cam urged.

"I don't know." She'd never been athletic. Panic engulfed her and she gripped his hand tightly. "I haven't exactly made mountain climbing a habit."

The helicopter had gained on them, was lowering closer, causing a huge whirlwind. Dust rose from the earth; so did small sticks and rocks, pummeling them cruelly as the craft followed their every move.

Shielding her eyes, Haley looked up and nearly fainted. Between the two narrow ravine walls, the helicopter sank, suspended directly above them. She could see Branson glaring down at her through his windshield as he worked the controls. He smiled grimly and she screamed Cam's name.

They ran as fast as they could through the narrow ravine, closer to the cliffs far above. Their feet pounded the dirt. Cam pulled so hard, her shoulder ached as she fought to keep up.

Then her ankle caught in a rock, sending a sharp, shooting pain radiating up her leg all the way to her hip. She ignored it, figuring if she slowed, a lot more than her ankle would get hurt.

Cam stopped so abruptly she crashed into him.

"Climb!" he shouted at her, turning to push her ahead of him toward the rocky incline that seemed overwhelmingly high and ungiving.

It was a sheer, straight rock and she had absolutely no experience or way to climb it. "I can't," she cried. "Cam, I can't!"

The helicopter lowered farther still, hovering, choking them with dust. Rocks and sand rained down, blinding them.

"You can." Cam boosted her up and she stretched out an arm, trying to get a hold on the rock above. Climbing behind her, he shouted encouragement, practically lifting her himself; all the while she was pelted with debris from the helicopter's wind.

She couldn't imagine how Branson was keeping it from crashing into the ravine walls. There was barely room for the craft to fit as it hovered directly over them. Trees bent from the powerful gusts the helicopter created and Haley felt as though they were suspended in time, caught in a terrifying wind tunnel.

"A little farther, Haley, come on… you can do it." Cam pushed at her, his urgent voice and scrambling, bloodied hands conveying the message simply enough.

They were going to die if she didn't hurry.

Risking a look, she twisted to stare down at Cam. His head was level with her hip, his arms were braced on either side of her legs as he waited for her to go higher. Blood trickled down his temple from where he'd been nicked by a flying rock. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face and neck, and dirt streaked over his clothes. Every muscle strained, quivering as he bore most of her weight as well as his own.

Then she caught sight of the canyon floor so far below, and the tips of the trees that swayed beneath them. Her vision swam dizzily.

"No!" Cam shouted, with a sharp shake of his head. "Don't look down, Haley! Just keep going."

Just keep going . Swallowing a sob, she twisted back to the rock, pulling herself higher. Cam followed, his big strong hands helping her often. The helicopter came even closer.

Her ankle felt like it was on fire. Something sticky and wet clung to her cheek and when she swiped at it, she realized it was blood. Her blood. Her fingers screamed as rock dug into them. They were as scraped and raw as Cam's: She sobbed out his name when she slipped, falling into him.

"Got you." Holding her steady until she regained her footing, he told her over the roar of the engine, "You're doing it, Haley." His arms continued to surround her as his hands lifted her farther. "You're doing fine, just don't stop. Whatever you do, don't give up."

She could almost feel the blades of the chopper dig into her skin as they whipped far too close for comfort. But then her fingers reached for and felt the top of the wall. Relief took a back seat to pain. Struggling, she tried to pull herself up and over, but she couldn't get the leverage she needed.

She cried out with frustration, which turned abruptly to horror.

Branson tilted the helicopter, probably to get a better aim, and through the window she saw him raise a rifle to his shoulder.

He was going to shoot them down.

Cam grabbed her, and in an unbelievable burst of strength, he lifted and threw her over the edge, yelling at her to stay down.

"Cam!" she screamed.

In the same instant, the helicopter lurched sideways as Branson momentarily lost control of the craft. Haley saw him struggle to raise the gun back up.

Cam still clung to the side of the cliff.

"Cam!" She scrambled to the very edge with some half-baked idea of yanking him up with her bare hands. "Hurry!"

He was trying. She could see it in every one of his trembling, bulging muscles. Haley reached down for him just as he got one hand to the edge.

Above them, Branson made a fatal miscalculation.

A horrific sound echoed as the blades caught in the sheer rock cliff, only a few feet from where Cam hung tenuously to the side.

The chopper careened wildly into the wall and caught fire, just as Cam flung himself over the top to safety. He didn't pause, but leaped toward Haley and flattened himself out on top of her, shielding her from the rain of fire as the helicopter blew up. Seemingly in slow motion, it fell to the canyon floor, far below.

When it hit, the earth resounded and shook.

Like an earthquake.

Fitting, Haley thought, as her world spun and her vision faded. Branson had created one last earthquake.

Haley opened her eyes and blinked. Cam's face hovered above her, streaked with dirt and strained with fear.

"Thank God," he murmured, yanking her hard against him. The sun had risen fully, but the air still should have been icy cold. Instead, heat from the fiery crash below scorched them and dense smoke rose, making breathing difficult.

"We need help, Haley." He cupped her face and held her slightly away from him, "Are you able to walk?"

Nodding, she tried to look over the side, down into the fire, but he pulled her back.

"Don't look," he said.

"Is he dead?"

Ripping his sleeve off, he pressed it to her cheek, wincing when she jerked back. "Haley, you're bleeding everywhere."

"Is he dead?"

"Hold still a sec!" He applied pressure, frowning when she yelped. "Dammit. You need stitches."

"Is he dead?" Haley had to know, felt as though she couldn't even take her next breath until she did. "Cam, tell me!"

"No doubt, he's very dead." His voice was very uneven and his fingers shook as he worked on her face.

She sat back, as shock took over. Dead. Branson was finally dead.

"Have to say this for you, Haley. Life hasn't been a nap in the hammock since I met you."

What she'd put him through suddenly stopped her cold. She couldn't bear it. She stood, with some half-baked idea of running and never stopping, but she cried out and nearly collapsed at the sharp pain that speared through her ankle.

Cam hooked a hand around her waist. "Lean on me," he murmured. "Don't put any extra weight on it."

She stared at him. His mouth was moving but she could hardly make out the words. She could, however, make out the haggard lines on his face, the blood seeping from a series of shallow cuts over his bare arms and hands. Her fault . A shiver racked her. "I'm fine." But she took one step and would have fallen flat on her face if not for Cam's arms. The pain twisting through her made her feel nauseous.