Five Ways To Surrender. Elle James

      “I like to know what other options we have if we need to beat a hasty retreat.” He handed her a small penlight. “Here. Keep this. It’s not much, but it will give you a little light to see by. I’ll need my bigger flashlight out there.”

      Alex held up the flashlight that looked more like a ballpoint pen, and cocked an eyebrow. “Like that’s going to do me any good against a lion.”

      “No, but this might.” He pulled a handgun out of his belt and handed it over.

      “I haven’t fired a gun since my father showed me how when I was a teen.” She smiled.

      His lips turned upward on the corners. “I’m surprised you’ve fired one at all.”

      “Oh, my father was all about taking care of yourself.” She weighed the handgun in her palm. “He wanted me to be able to defend myself. I think he wanted me to test for the concealed carry license. Only I didn’t feel comfortable carrying a gun in my purse. Most of my friends only carried makeup, a credit card, driver’s license and the keys to their cars. I was afraid someone would take the gun out of my purse and shoot himself accidentally. Thus, no gun in my purse.”

      “Do you know how to operate this, or do I need to show you?”

      “I can figure it out,” she said. “Especially if my life depends on it.”

      “Good. I’ll be back shortly.” He touched her hand holding the gun. “Promise not to shoot me?”

      Her lips twisted. “I promise not to shoot you.”

      And he left to go down into the valley and back up over the pass to see if the men who’d been following them were still on their tail.

      He paused just short of the top of the ridge. Inching just to the top, he peered over to the valley below. On the valley floor, he could see the warm glow of a campfire and shadowy figures gathered around the flames.

      The ISIS rebels weren’t far behind them, with only a ridge standing between them.

      Jake returned to the creek, rewet the bandanna and hurried back to the cave. If the cuts and scratches on Alex’s back were deep, they could become infected and cause her a whole lot more grief if left untreated for any length of time.

      They could stay the night, but they’d have to leave early the next morning, while it was still dark, to be gone before the terrorists made it up over the ridge.

      When he arrived back at the cave, he eased into the darkness, searching for the woman who’d escaped the village with him. Nothing stirred. No sounds of breathing or indication that anyone was there.

      His pulse sped as he switched on his flashlight, using the red lens setting, making it harder for anyone outside the cave to see but illuminating the interior up to three feet in front of him.

      Where was she? Had he entered the wrong cave? Or had some of the rebel forces found their way around him and made off with the pretty teacher?

      He drew in a shaking breath and whispered, “It’s me.” Then he waited, his breath lodged in his chest.