Montana Standoff. Sharon Dunn

started the truck. “The dispatcher hadn’t heard anything. She’s gonna send the deputy up to the tower to make sure the area is clear.”

      For a forest ranger, Bryan seemed to know a lot about how the police worked. She had to know what he’d been doing for the past ten years. “So did you go to college like you planned?”

      Bryan’s head jerked back and he laughed. He pulled out of the dirt parking lot. “Boy, that question came out of nowhere.”

      “I was just curious.” It was the first mention either of them had made of the past.

      Bryan’s truck came to a crossroads. He turned onto a paved two-lane. “I...ah...started out that semester, but it was a little too much for me to handle.” Each word was wrought with tension.

      Sarah crossed her arms and stared out the window. His discomfort made it clear that even such a benign question was off limits. She wondered, too, how and why he had ended up back in Discovery, but now she didn’t dare ask. She longed to have a normal conversation with him, but that wasn’t going to happen. It would be best if he just dropped her off at the police station. He could go back out to his lonely fire tower. If they ran into each other in town, they could keep the conversation to hello and the weather.

      Bryan glanced at the rearview mirror. “What’s this guy’s problem?”

      Sarah turned around to look at the SUV following too closely. Shock spread through her. “Bryan, that’s the vehicle.”

      He glanced a second time just as the Suburban tapped their bumper.

      “He must have been waiting for us.” Bryan pressed the gas. “Knowing this was the only road that led into town.”

      “How could he know this was your truck?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe he was watching the store. Maybe he has a way to communicate with the other guy.” Bryan pulled away from the Suburban only to have it catch up with them again. The car bumped the back of the truck again, causing it to lurch.

      “Hold on.” Bryan executed a sudden turn onto a dirt road.

      The other car overshot the turn, but spun around and charged up the road toward them. Bryan turned off into a grassy field and veered back to the main road, but in the wrong direction—away from town.

      The car caught up to them. Bryan gripped the steering wheel as the Suburban came alongside them and smashed against his truck. Metal crunched. The truck wobbled, but Bryan kept it on the road.

      The second hit was harder. The Suburban seemed to be attached to the passenger side of the truck as it pushed them closer to the edge of the road.

      Sarah looked through her window at the leering, maniacal face of Acne Scars, as their truck was pushed off the road toward the rocky incline below.

      FOUR

      Their truck flew off the road at a high speed, sailed through the air and landed in the river at the bottom of the rocky incline. Sarah gasped for air as the truck settled and water rose up around it. She felt as if every muscle in her body had been stretched, and her thoughts seemed to move in slow motion.

      Sarah turned toward Bryan whose head was tilted at an unnatural angle. Panicked, she fumbled with her seat belt and reached over to shake him. “Bryan!” She wrapped her hand around his muscular upper arm. “Bryan, please.”

      He stirred, shaking his head and moaning in pain. She let out a breath. He was alive.

      Bryan glanced from side to side as though trying to fathom what had happened. She reached across his stomach and unbuckled his seat belt.

      The current propelled the car downriver. The metal frame creaked as the water pushed against it.

      “We need to get out of here, right?”

      He looked at her, blinking several times. “Yeah...yeah.” His eyes were void of comprehension.

      “Or would it be better to drift with the current?” The truck picked up speed and turned sideways.

      He looked around. “No.” His gaze became more focused. “The water gets deeper, more rapids.”

      “I think we are closer to the bank on my side.” She glanced out the back window. Acne Scars’s Suburban must have pushed with so much force that it too had sailed off the road and landed upside-down on the rocky shore.

      She rolled down her window. Water seeped into the cab of the truck.

      “Hurry,” said Bryan. “Swim as hard as you can to shore. The current is pretty strong. I’ll be right behind you.”

      She pushed herself through the window into the cold river. Rushing, swirling water suctioned around her. The cold of it shocked her into stillness for a moment as the force of the current pulled her under. She swallowed water and panic surged. She fought against it, struggling to the surface. She pierced the water with her hand, keeping her eyes on the bank which seemed to be slipping farther away.

      She caught a quick glimpse of Bryan as he drifted downriver. He was pretty banged up from his fight, and he’d lost consciousness in the wreck. Was he in any condition to make a swim like this? His head went under as an awful sense of dread filled her.

      I can’t lose him.

      She crashed into a submerged log. She was able to catch her breath by grabbing on to one of the larger branches that stuck out of the water. Holding her position, she desperately scanned the water for a glimpse of Bryan, breathing a sigh of relief when his head bobbed to the surface as he stroked toward the shore, his movement steady and strong.

      She pulled herself along the top of the log and then pushed off, aiming for the shore. Up ahead she could see the rapids—foaming, intense waves cresting and swirling. Terror spread through her. No way did she have the strength to swim through those. She needed to get to land. She jabbed her arm through the water, though her muscles had grown weak from the struggle. Her legs felt heavy.

      Rivers, just like oceans, had an undertow. The closer she got to the rapids the bigger the risk of being pulled under and drowned.

      The shore grew nearer inch by inch. The water calmed as she struggled toward an eddy. This time, when she put her feet down, she touched bottom. Thank You, God. Sarah dragged herself to the shore and crumpled onto a sandbar.

      She heard footsteps and turned her head sideways. Bryan had gotten ashore farther upriver. He ran toward her, looking over his shoulder and then increasing his pace. The look of fear on his face fueled her panic. Sarah sat up.

      He reached down and grabbed her arm. “We’ve got company. Come on.”

      Acne Scars must have gotten out of the SUV. Sarah had barely caught her breath when Bryan lifted her to her feet and pulled her toward the thick brush. Both of them were soaking wet. Their shoes squished as they ran. Her wet clothes, which weighed an extra five pounds, slapped against her body. She was grateful for the warmth of the sun. They’d dry off quick enough.

      Bryan led her through the thickness of the forest. The canopy reduced the light by half, and the temperature dropped ten degrees.

      “Where...are...we...going?” Sarah spoke as she ran, taking a breath after each word.

      “Back to the store. We can call for help from there. The sheriff will have to meet us and escort us back to town.”

      The forest thinned. They came to the steep incline that led back up to the road. Only prairie grass grew on this side of the hill. Bryan scanned the area above them. “This is the only way to get to the road. We’ll be exposed as we go.”

      Sarah took in a breath to push down the rising fear. “If it’s the only way.”

      “Stay behind me.” Bryan made the steep trek with ease, continually glancing side to side and up above.

      Sarah scrambled to keep up with him. She could see the road not more