Big Sky Showdown. Sharon Dunn

the river. Solid ground was only twenty feet away.

      Trying to maintain her balance, she put one foot in front of the other and gripped the rope railing.

      A louder creak filled the air. She caught a glimpse of the rushing water down below, dark and cold. The bridge went slack. And then she felt her body slipping backward and down. Her hand flailed, struggling to find something to hold on to.

      She grasped only air as her body plunged into the depths of the freezing water.

       FOUR

      Zane grabbed hold of the rope remnants of the bridge as he drifted downstream. Clarence’s body rammed into his and then floated away as the animal struggled to keep its head above water. He saw a flash of Heather’s jacket, and then she disappeared beneath the freezing water. His heart squeezed tight, and he waited for her to resurface.

      A bullet whizzed past his head. He switched focus to the men—boys, really, no more than teenagers—on the shoreline. The first boy grabbed the gun from the second one, probably not wanting to risk Zane being killed since the orders were for them to be taken in alive.

      Zane let go of the piece of tattered bridge as the current pulled him along. There was no more sign of Heather.

      Twice, the force of the water pushed him under.

      The young men ran along the bank, keeping him in sight. Zane couldn’t see Clarence anywhere, but hoped that the mule had managed to reach land—something Zane now needed to do for himself. He swam hard to get to the far bank. That bridge had been the only way across the water for miles. The young men on the shore slowed down as the current carried him along even faster.

      Though he couldn’t see her, he refused to believe Heather had drowned. She had proved she was a competent athlete.

      He knew he had only minutes in the freezing water before hypothermia set in. The current pushed him back toward the closer shore where the pursuers were. He and Heather really needed to get across this river. He rounded a bend. The young men with guns grew smaller then disappeared from view. He felt a rush of relief when he saw Heather up ahead crawling up on a log that had fallen half way across the stream. She had almost reached land, but not on the far shore that would allow them to get back to town. If he followed her, they’d still be trapped on the wrong side of the river. All the same, he was elated to see she had made it out.

      He swam through the water, trying to maneuver toward her. She noticed him and worked her way back to the end of the log and held out a hand. She grabbed him by the back of the collar as he drifted by. He angled his torso and braced himself with one of the heavier limbs on the fallen tree as water suctioned around him. She reached out an ice-cold hand and helped him up on the log.

      Both of them were soaked and shivering, but at least they’d survived. She rose to her feet and edged her way across the slippery log to dry land. He was right behind her.

      He glanced down the shoreline but saw no sign of their pursuers yet. Heather wrapped her arms around her body and waited for him. Water dripped from her long dark hair.

      He surveyed the landscape. They’d drifted far enough that it would be a while before their pursuers caught up with them. He knew where he was and where they could go to get warm. “We need to build a fire, but not where we’ll be seen easily.”

      “Where can we go?” Her eyes appeared glazed when she looked at him. Shock was setting in. Hypothermia couldn’t be far behind.

      He placed his palms on her cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. “Just stay with me. Do what I say. I got this, okay?”

      She nodded.

      He sprinted through the trees up toward a rock face until he found an outcropping of rock that would provide shelter on three sides.

      “Gather any dry wood you can find,” he said.

      One of the things he’d pulled off the saddlebags was a waterproof bag containing magnesium fire starter and dryer lint for kindling. As he drew the fire starter out of the plastic bag, he noticed that his whole body trembled.

      Heather returned a few minutes later with a pile of sticks. “Everything is pretty wet.” Her voice was shaky from the cold and all the color had drained from her face.

      They needed to hurry and get this fire built.

      “Anything you can find will help.” He drew his knife off his belt. “I can split it. The wood on the inside is dry.”

      “I’ll go find more.” She turned and dashed toward the trees.

      Using one log as a baton and his knife as a hatchet, he split several logs. His vision blurred as water dripped off his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them.

      Dear God, help us stay alive.

      He could feel the strength draining from his body and his mind fogging. Heather returned with more wood.

      “I’ve got enough here to start the fire.” He pointed at the fire starter. “Do you know how to use that?”

      She nodded. “We go camping in California, too, you know.”

      She knelt down beside him, gathering the kindling into a pile around the dryer lint. She shaved off some magnesium flakes and then slid the scraper across the rod until she made some sparks. Her hands were shaking, too, as she used them to protect the fragile flames. Once the fire consumed the kindling, Zane placed larger pieces of wood on the fire until he could feel the warmth.

      He slipped out of his wet coat. “You might want to take yours off. Lay it across those rocks so the fire will dry it out. You’ll need to sit close to me...for warmth.”

      She gave him a momentary stare before stripping her coat and gloves off and scooting beside him.

      “All right if I wrap my arms around you?”

      She nodded. He took her into an awkward hug. Her body was rigid in his arms, unmoving except for the shivering. Both of them watched the flames as they warmed up and dried out.

      “Will they come looking for us?” Her voice sounded very far away and weak.

      He lifted his head to look around. Their would-be captors had been tenacious up to this point. There was no reason to think they would just give up now. “Probably.” The fire was small, and they were hidden by the rocks, but they couldn’t stay here for long without running the risk of being found.

      “Who are they?”

      Her question fell like a heavy weight on his chest. He took in a breath as the past rushed at him at a hundred miles an hour. This wasn’t the first time she’d asked the question. He needed to finally give her an answer. “There’s a man who used to live in these mountains. He’s a doomsday-conspiracy kind of guy who thinks that the authorities are out to get him. So he lives out in places like this, in the middle of nowhere. He recruits boys and young men who need a father figure, indoctrinates them to be just as wild and lawless as he is. They’re his own personal army, committing whatever crimes he plans. This area was his territory for a long time. He left almost seven years ago. He must be back here for some reason.”

      “How do you know it’s him?”

      “The way those boys acted. And then I heard them mention Willis’s name,” he said.

      “How do you know all this about him and his boys?” She brushed a strand of wet hair off her neck.

      He took a moment to answer. “I used to be one of them when I was a kid. I was just as wild, until I met your father.”

      The stiffness of her body against his softened a little. She took a moment to ask her next question. “My father helped you get away from this Willis guy?”

      He nodded. Seven years ago, Willis had made the mistake of telling Zane he needed to get a job in town to bring in money. It was something