Page 103 of Cold Light of Day

“Okay, Sarah. Your turn. You can do this. Go.”

“What about you?”

Out the passenger window, the rush of mud and boulders and tree trunks moved toward them, increasing in speed as if competing with Autumn, trying to prevent their escape.

“Go. Now!”

Sarah scooted toward the passenger-side window and slid out so she was sitting on the edge. Autumn’s gut remained clenched as she willed this plan to work. Nolan assisted Sarah the rest of the way out of the window as the truck bounced over uneven ground. Finally, Sarah joined Mom and Nolan in the bed.

If Autumn left the truck, it would stop, and she needed to get them out of the path of debris, but she was losing the battle. The mud edged forward and caught the truck’s front wheels.

They were so close. Almost there.

God . . . help us. Just. Get. There.

Feet. Just a few feet.

The woods angled up an incline away from the trail of destruction.

Autumn floored the accelerator, hoping the back tires could give them enough push to get to safety, but the truck shifted toward the river, pushed by the debris.

Time to leave.

She started to climb through the driver’s-side window, and Nolan pulled her out as if she was a bag of potatoes. Either that or adrenaline was driving his every move.

“Hurry! Go now, Mom!” he shouted. “Climb across the top and jump. We can make it!”

She leapt over the cab, then pivoted off the hood, landing out of the mudslide’s path. Then she crawled up the incline and turned around to watch. The slide pushed the truck toward the water, bending and crumpling the metal. Sarah screamed, and Nolan caught her before she fell. Autumn clung to the truck bed. This vehicle was about to crush under the weight of tons of earth.

“Come on!” Nolan shouted. “We have to do this together or we’re not going to make it.”

“I’m right behind you!” Autumn shouted. “Go!”

Nolan hung back, waiting for Autumn to make her move.

“Go!” She urged him again.

Frowning, he grabbed Sarah. “We’ll jump together. Let’s go!”

The two crawled over the cab and leaped across the hood as the truck twisted again, and Autumn held on. She crawled onto the cab.

Heart hammering, she stepped onto the hood and started to jump. The truck suddenly shivered and tilted, the metal frame twisting and crunching. Autumn’s feet slipped out from under her and she slid across the hood and onto the ground between the truck and the river. She bolted to her feet, fear gripping her. Paralyzing her.

The truck and the mud would crush her. She had to get out of the path.

Voices shouted. Nolan, Mom, and Sarah watched from safety, their voices amping up Autumn’s terror.

She raced toward them, but it was too late.

She couldn’t make it.

Instead, she turned and ran away from the mudslide toward the water.

The slide, crunching and creeping behind her, along with the grind of trees and boulders stuck in its path, nipped at her heels and caught her as she reached the water. Pushed her forward and out as it slowly ate her.

She pulled in a breath as a tree trunk forced her down deep into the cold water. But the water worked to break up the mud, and the log floated to the surface, releasing her.

She dove deeper as she swam away, heading toward the middle of the river. She’d never been more grateful for her diving and swimming training. She pushed forward, able to hold her breath for long periods—it was almost as if she’d beenpreparing for this moment her entire life. And she didn’t stop as the mudslide pushed debris farther into the river, threatening to take her under and drown her.

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