Page 68 of Mountain Challenge

Ry set Isla on her feet on the cold kitchen tile. “I need you to run towards the back door, Isla. Beau will find you.” He gave her a small shove, and then he was gone, without waiting for her to agree. Isla stood there, frozen, knowing the next few seconds would determine everything.

Ry

Leaving Isla alone in the kitchen went against every instinct he had, but he had to get to Hugo and Laura.She’s safe for now. Ry couldn’t say the same for Hugo. His friend hadn’t moved sincethe last shot was fired, and Ry knew him well enough to know what that meant. He also knew there was nothing he could do for them while Getty was in here shooting at them.

Ry ran, his boots slamming against the wooden floor. A third shot flew past his ear and rattled the window. This time, Ry got a better glimpse of the gun. It looked like a .44 caliber, large enough to hunt large targets.Large enough to hunt people. It was a six-shot, and Ry thought back to the number of shots they’d already heard. Two, for sure. Maybe three. There should be three or four bullets left before he’d have to reload.

Ry’s breath came in heavy gasps, his heart thundering in his chest, but his mind was clear: he had to stop Getty. He had to end this. He swerved to make himself a harder target to hit, willing Getty to shoot.There. He leaped over the overturned couch just in time to avoid getting hit, then, without giving Getty time to reload, jumped forward again, darting between what remained of the living room’s wreckage to get to the snow blower.

The gun roared again, but Ry was too close now, and this shot missed Ry by a mile, the recoil jolting Miles’s entire frame. Without giving the man the chance to aim again, Ry launched himself at the side of the huge snowblower. He was close enough now that he could see the crazed rage in Miles’s eyes—this wasn’t a man hoping to get away with it. This was a man who knew this was his last stand.

But so did Ry.

No second chances.No do overs.

Ry pulled himself up onto the roof of the vehicle. His shoulder twinged with the effort, but he ignored the pain. His right hand found the barrel of the large gun and he yanked hard. Getty pulled back, but this wasn’t a fight Ry was willing to lose. He pulled sideways until the weapon slid from Getty’s grip. Hetossed it aside, the weapon clattering to the ground, lost among the snow and debris.

Getty snarled, reaching up to catch Ry’s arm, but Ry was faster. He reached down into the cabin and pulled himself inside, upside down at first, then taking an instant to right himself. Getty threw a wild punch, aiming for Ry’s ribs, which Ry blocked with his elbow before swinging back, hitting Getty’s neck and making him roar with pain. Ry took the chance to grab the keys from the ignition and toss them out of the vehicle.

Getty growled, grabbing Ry by the collar and pulling him off balance, sending them both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Before Ry could pull himself up, Getty was on him, straddling him. Ry was strong, his body honed from the daily demands of his job, but Getty was a bear of a man, and had the strength of the crazed.

“If you’d just shut up,” Getty panted, throwing a punch to Ry’s jaw that reverberated through all his teeth. “The government would have paid. I would have had money to rebuild this house, and you wouldn’t ever have heard from him again. But no, you had to fight it. You have to be a hero.” Another punch, this one slamming Ry’s head sideways. Ry knew he had to get out from under the man, or he was done for. He shifted his hips, but Getty leaned in the other direction.Fuck, but the man was strong.

Out of the corner of one eye, Ry saw movement.Hugo. No. Not Hugo. It was Isla, staggering in the dust and snow towards Hugo and Laura. Ry looked back at Getty above him, hoping the man hadn’t noticed—glad to see he still had the man’s full attention.

“Now you’re going to die,” Getty snarled, putting his thick hands around Ry’s neck. It was the moment Ry had been waiting for. Ry raised his arms, slamming them on the man’s ears—heard the answering roar that told him he’d ruptured at least oneear drum. The pressure around his neck eased, and Ry surged up, dislodging Getty’s body and turning around until he was the one doing the straddling. He pinned the big man down with one knee to the chest. Getty struggled, but he was still dazed from the hit to his ears. Ry grabbed the man’s collar, pulling him up just enough to land a solid punch to his nose. He welcomed the shockwave of pain going through his hand and punched again, thinking of Isla, thinking of Laura, thinking of what had been and what could have been. Thinking that he would never, ever, let Getty hurt them again. He hit again and again until the man went limp beneath him, head lolling to the side, blood trickling from his mouth and nose and his left ear.

Ry stood up, breathing hard, his muscles trembling from the cold and the adrenaline. He stared down at the unconscious man, resisting the urge to hit him again. From the pocket of his jeans, he took a couple of zip ties and pulled them tight around Miles’s wrists, behind his back, then around his ankles. He thought of Isla and Laura, and of the body they’d seen out on the snow.He’s going to pay for what he’s done.

Ry stood up, wiping blood from his split knuckles on his jeans, feeling the aches in his body. He was pretty sure he’d cracked a couple of ribs. He turned and ran back to Hugo, sliding down next to him. Isla was beside him, her fingers on Hugo’s neck.

“He’s breathing, but there’s so much blood. I don’t want to move him, but he’s going to crush Laura. He went down protecting her,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

At that exact moment, Hugo’s eyes opened. He stared at them with no confusion. “Getty?” he rasped.

“He’s taken care of,” Ry said, sneaking a quick look behind them. Getty hadn’t moved a muscle.

Hugo nodded, his eyes dark with pain. His elbows dug into the ground beside Laura. “Is she okay? Help me. I can’t move mylegs,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. He was already trying to crawl off Laura, using his elbows.

Ry’s insides got cold. He’d seen the stain on Hugo’s T-shirt, down in his lumbar area. He took a deep breath and helped Hugo off the woman, careful to jostle him as little as possible. Free of Hugo’s weight, Laura moaned and jostled around before going quiet again.

“You take care of him. I’ll stay with Laura,” Isla said, tucking Hugo’s coat tighter around her friend. Despite the urgency of the situation, Ry was glad to see Isla had recovered some of the color in her cheeks.

“Ry. Hugo. Status report.” Beau’s voice was loud in Ry’s ear. It sounded like he was running hard.

“We need the helicopter here now. We have the women. Getty is down, but Hugo’s been shot in the back.”

A long pause from his boss. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Isla is with Laura. She’s still unconscious. We’re going to need a neurologist waiting for us.” He turned back towards Hugo. “And a surgeon.”

“I spoke with Vincent. The whole fucking hospital is going to be waiting for us,” Beau panted, cutting the communication.

Ry turned back towards Hugo. “I’m going to check the wound,” he said, raising Hugo’s shirt. Isla was right, there was a lot of blood, but not as much as Ry would have expected. The cold was slowing the bleeding. Ry checked for an exit wound, already knowing he wouldn’t find it. And Hugo couldn’t feel his legs.Fuck.

Hugo winced. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. “I can hear your thoughts, Ry,” Hugo said, his voice still deadly calm. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“You saved Laura’s life. That’s what I was thinking,” Ry said, lowering the shirt again. Since the bleeding had slowed downon its own, he didn’t want to touch or put any pressure on the wound. “And we’re going to take care of you.”

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