speed of light all the way up into her brain. The impact was paralyzing.
He never let go of her. Not when they were sucked under by the raging water, and not during their frantic search for the
surface as they were plummeting down the roaring rapids. Just when she was certain her lungs were going to burst, they
finally clawed their way to air, but they had only enough time to fill their lungs before they were pulled under by the current.
She saw a brown bear watching them from the bank. She could have sworn he was grinning at them and didn't want that image
to be her last before she died. She wanted to survive so she could give John Paul hell for trying to drown her. As if something had hold of her ankles and was tugging her down, she sank again. She would damn well have to fight harder To make it. She'd
grown up swimming in the ocean, first in Florida and then in California, and was a stronger swimmer than most, but this wasn't swimming. They were bobbing like corks.
They reached the surface again. Gasping to take in as much air as possible, she spotted a big old gnarled tree branch bouncing from one white-water crest to another. With both hands, she grabbed hold when it came roaring past.
The river zigged and zagged, but they were getting closer to the bank. She started kicking with all her might. John Paul hooked
one arm over the branch and steered their lifeline in the same direction. When they finally reached shallow water, he stood and pulled her to the bank.
Sprawled out side by side on the grassy slope, they were both too exhausted to move. Avery was gulping in air and shivering so much her teeth were chattering.
"You okay, sugar?" he panted.
She suddenly bolted upright and gagged. She thought she might have swallowed half the river.
"Can you swim?" she said between gasps. "Is that what you asked me after you shoved me off that ledge?"
"So you heard me, huh?" He reached over and gently pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes.
She looked back at the raging river. God surely had a hand in their survival, she thought. There simply wasn't any other explanation possible.
"Okay, so now we know what a fiver is," she said.
He sat up. "Yeah?"
She smiled. "They obviously rate the rapids," she explained. "This one was the big mother. A fiver."
He shook his head. They had just been through hell together, and all she wanted to do was tell him how they rate rapids?
"Did you hit your head or something?"
"No, I just figured out the rating system. That's all."
"Want to go again?"
"Been there, done that," she said. Squinting up at the cliffs above them, she said, "I think we lost him."
"I'm not sure," he said. Reluctant as he was to move, he forced himself to get up. He shook himself like a dog who'd just had a bath, then offered her his hand.
She made the mistake of clasping hold. He yanked her to her feet, pulling on her socket again. The man didn't know his own strength. Now what was he doing? He'd turned and was surveying the area they'd just vacated.
"What?"
"Grab some brush and throw it over our imprints. No, never mind. You'll only make it worse. I'll do it."
She walked into the protection of the trees and watched him pull several small branches over the soft earth. "Why is it that you automatically assume I'm incompetent? Is it just me you have a problem with, or are you that way with every woman?"
"Just you."
She saw him grin before he turned away. He got a kick out of irritating her, she decided, but she was too weary from near heart failure in the rapids to rise to his bait.
"Do you have any idea where we are?" she asked. Her words sounded slurred, and she was shaking almost violently now.
"No."
It wasn't the answer she was hoping for. "So I guess you weren't a Boy Scout?"
"I can get us where we need to go."
"Back to the car?"
"No. It would take too long trying to find a place to cross over the water."
"We need to get to a phone." And a hot shower and dry clothes, she silently added.
He finished covering their footprints, stepped back to survey his handiwork, and nodded with satisfaction.
"A phone's a given," he said as he walked closer to her. "Damn, babe, you're freezing, aren't you?"
"You're not?" she asked as he took her into his embrace and began to vigorously rub her arms.
"I'm okay," he answered. "I've got ice water in my veins, or so I've been told."
"Who would say such a thing?" she asked.
"My sister."
"Oh.". Then, "She ought to know."
"Do you have any strength left?" He was unzipping her windbreaker so he could get to his gun. His weapon was just a little
damp. He shoved it into the back of his jeans and zipped her pocket closed again.
"I have as much strength as you do."
"Then start jogging. You'll get warm in no time."
"Which way?"
"We have to go up before we can go down."
She looked at the mountains surrounding them. "It would be easier to follow the river, but Monk would anticipate that."
She turned around and started jogging at a fast clip through the woods. Water sloshed between her toes as she ran. The
sensation of ice cubes melting around her feet wasn't pleasant.
John Paul kept pace with her for over an hour. They neither stopped nor spoke to each other.
He was impressed with her stamina. Once she had established the rhythm, she didn't slow down. She didn't complain either,
and she wasn't clutching her side. He already knew she was in shape. One look at her body and he could tell she worked out.
Still, the way she kept moving, so steady and sure, was proof that she did more than take a one-hour aerobics class once a week at some little spa back home.
He spotted the clear-water creek ahead and thought they should stop to catch their breath.
"Let's stop for a minute."
Thank God, thank God. "Are you sure you don't want to keep going?"
If he had said yes, she thought she would either burst into tears or keel over from exhaustion. The stitch in her side felt like someone was holding a hot coal against her ribs, and it had taken all she had not to grab hold and double over.
She noticed he didn't appear to be the least winded. Avery stretched her legs so they wouldn't cramp on her before she collapsed to the ground. Scooping up water with cupped hands, she greedily drank.
"Do you think he's tracking us?" she asked a minute later.
"Probably," he answered. "But he'll have to find a place to cross over those rapids, so we have some time. Tell me what happened at the car." He had been silently cursing himself for leaving her.
She sat down in the grass and leaned back against the tree. "I woke up and you were gone," she said. "So I decided to follow you."
His shoulder rubbed against hers as he sat beside her.
"I didn't get far," she admitted. "I had just started up the hill when I saw the headlights through the mist. Honest to Pete, I almost ran out to flag it down, but thankfully, I came to my senses and decided to wait until the car came closer."
"Ah, man," he whispered. "You could have walked right up to him before you…" He couldn't go on. The thought of what could have happened to her made him sick.
"He parked his car down below, then got out. He had a flashlight and a rifle tucked under his arm as he climbed the hill to where your car was hidden. He must have pinpointed the location before you moved the watch. I knew it was Monk, of course, so I stayed hidden."
"Then what happened?"
"He checked out the car."
"Did you see his face?"
"No. I could have if I'd moved, but I was afraid I'd make a noise, and he'd know I was there, watching. He opened the hood
of your car, pulled something out, and threw it into that gully on the side of the hill. I could find it if we go back. He had the hood of his windbreaker up, so I couldn't see his face or the color of his hair, but he was at least six feet. He wasn't thin, though. He was quite muscular, not heavyset. He reminded me of a bodybuilder."