Page 115 of Break My Fall

“That would be appreciated.”

They reached a dirt bike. Ah. That made more sense. It would be a tight squeeze for the two of them. Would they fit?

Gray straddled the bike. “I think it’s time for you to call it quits on this gig, man.”

What gig?

The man gave him a grim smile. “If I don’t get out of here”—he pointed to Meredith—“inside pocket. Has all she needs.”

What would she need that was in the pocket? Meredith patted the sweater. There was something in one pocket, but it was tiny, and she couldn’t think of how it would be helpful. Nothing was making any sense.

“I’ll let her know, but you’re going to get out. We’ll come back for you.” Gray kickstarted the dirt bike and patted the back.

The man helped Meredith climb on behind Gray, pointed out the trail, and disappeared into the forest.

Meredith dropped her head against Gray’s back and tried to hold on.

Gray rode as fast as he could through the forest. The trail was barely more than a deer path, but it was enough. When he popped out onto the highway, he could have cried in relief.

But when a big truck flew around a curve in the other direction, then screeched to a halt, he had to bite back a sob. Mo and Cal jumped from the truck and ran toward them. “Hypothermia. Get her warm.” He pressed a kiss to Meredith’s forehead, then handed her to Mo.

He needed to stay with her. But he couldn’t. “I have to go back.”

“I’m with you.” Cal tossed the keys to Mo.

“No.”

“Not up for debate. Mo will call it in and get us more backup.”

Mo nodded at them both and settled Meredith into the front of the truck while Cal grabbed a backpack. Gray could hear Mo talking before Cal closed the door.

“Let’s go.”

Gray filled Cal in as they walked back to the bike. Dirt bikes weren’t made for two men their size, but it would be faster than walking. Before they climbed on, Cal handed Gray a heavy sweater, gloves, and a dry jacket. Gray stripped out of everything except the ballistic undershirt that had saved his life, put the dry, warm clothes on, and then climbed on behind Cal.

Cal was better at bikes, and Gray was a better shot. It only made sense.

They made it back to the spot where he’d left Carlos in twenty minutes and found the man sitting by the river.

They approached slowly. “Carlos?” Gray called out. He didn’t want to get shot. Again.

Carlos raised a hand but didn’t turn. Cal stayed back, gun in hand, scanning the area. Gray joined Carlos by the raging river.

“You were supposed to send a car. Not come back in here. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a Marine. We never leave a man behind.”

“Oorah.” Carlos handed a small phone to Gray. “I recorded everything. But you should probably go look for yourself.” He pointed to the spot where the hut had probably stood.

Nothing was there now. Gray stood and walked in that direction. Cal joined him.

“I don’t know what we’re about to find, but it won’t be pretty,” Gray said to Cal. “You can stay back.”

Cal ignored him. Typical.

Thirty feet from what he assumed had been the footprint of the hut, there was evidence of a small mudslide.

Stuck in the mud were bones.

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