Chapter Fourteen
Dare pulled her upright and clamped an arm around her waist to hold her steady as she ground her teeth and worked through the surge of pain caused by blood going to her foot. When he could feel her relax a little he eased his grip, but kept her weight leaning against him; the way she was shaking, her balance was precarious even if she hadn’t been holding her right foot off the ground.
“Okay, here’s the way we’re going to do this.” He took the saddlebags from her and settled them over his left shoulder, with one bag hanging over his back and the other over his chest. The strap of her mud-caked rifle was hooked over his right shoulder. His own rifle was in his right hand. “You’re going over my left shoulder. Use your left arm to hook around my waist, and I’ll be using my left arm to steady you. Between the two of us, you should be fairly secure. I know you’re tired and cold and you want to rest, but what I need you to do is hold the flashlight in your right hand and shine it in front of me, so I can see where I’m going. Can you manage?”
He couldn’t really tell in the darkness, broken by the surreal flashes of light, but he thought she gave a faint, grim smile. “Hold a flashlight? Yeah … I can do that.”
It had been a dumb-ass question; a woman who had crawled down a mountain could definitely handle a flashlight. And at any other time she’d have pointed out to him what a dumb-ass question it was, but tonight she seemed to be passing up opportunities to chew his ass out. That almost worried him more than the situation they were in, because what if she had a head injury she hadn’t told him about?
Well, hell. Only one way to find out, and that was to ask. “Have you banged your head on anything?”
“No.”
And that was it. All he could surmise, then, was that she was holding everything back until after she was safe; after all, she wouldn’t want to alienate her rescuer, not when her general opinion of him was so low she’d expect him to leave her there if she said what she was thinking.
“Let’s get going, then. Here’s the flashlight.” As she took the light he bent down, put his shoulder into her midsection, wrapped his left arm around her thighs, and straightened, his movements fast and seamless. For a moment she was rigid, her arms braced on his back, then he felt her force herself to relax and let her torso lie against him. She hooked her left arm around his waist. If he hadn’t been wearing a slicker she could have grabbed hold of his belt, but as it was she had to use muscle power to keep herself anchored.
Pointing the flashlight at the ground, she switched it on and angled it so the beam was shining in front of him. “Is this okay?”
“Tilt it down a little more.”
Silently she obeyed, and the bright LED lights lit the ground at his feet. She braced the flashlight against his leg, and he began walking.
Hiking through mountainous terrain in a storm, in the dark, carrying another person, and without having a hand free for balance had to rank right up there with combat in the potential for getting hurt. If he hadn’t had the flashlight, he likely would have killed them both within the first half hour. Dare didn’t let himself think about whether or not the task he’d set himself was hard, didn’t let himself think about maybe finding an outcropping of rock and waiting out the storm. He and Angie had one big advantage, and that was that the guy who’d tried to kill her had no idea anyone else was nearby. He wouldn’t know about Dare’s camp, its location or even its existence. Dare wasn’t about to give up that advantage by hanging around.
Moreover, the storm was wiping out all trace of Dare’s tracks as soon as he made them. The farther he could get while it was still raining, the better.
Angie was on the skinny side, but the skinny was all muscle and she was heavier than she looked, plus she had at least ten, fifteen pounds packed into the saddlebags she’d been carrying. Still, he’d toted deer off this mountain that weighed more than she did, so he ignored the complications of weather, having to carry his rifle instead of slinging it by the strap on his shoulder, all the while trying not to jostle her ankle.
She was still too quiet, and that bothered him. He appreciated the lack of complaints, because dangling upside down over his shoulder couldn’t be comfortable, but she was too quiet. He’d have thought she was unconscious except for the tension he could feel in her body, and the fact that the flashlight remained in her hand instead of dropping to the ground.
After half an hour he asked, “You hanging in there?”
Her chest heaved a little; he could feel the movement against his back. “Uh … yeah. Literally.”
Had she laughed? He hadn’t meant to make a joke, but he was glad the question had come off as one. If she could laugh, she was okay.
On the other hand, she might have been gasping for breath.
She had been trembling and shivering, but the involuntary movements had stopped and he wondered if she was sliding into hypothermia. He plowed on for a few minutes, but when he saw a decent-sized boulder with a slight hollow on one side, he decided to make use of it. Stopping every half hour for a brief rest probably wasn’t a bad idea; it would keep him from making mistakes, and give him a chance to assess her condition.
“Let’s stop here for a minute,” he said, propping his rifle against the rock and gently easing her off his shoulder and down to the ground. He retrieved the rifle, then crowded into the small space with her and turned the flashlight so they had just a little bit of light. He wasn’t worried about the batteries going dead; LED lights lasted for months of normal use, and the batteries were new. He even had spares at the camp, just in case, but there was more than enough juice to get them there. Even if there wasn’t, Angie’s flashlight was in her saddlebags, so they had backup.