Page 27 of The Unlikely Pair
My eyes dart around desperately until I spot a dark hollow under the roots of a fallen tree.
There’s no time for niceties. I grab Toby’s arm, and he stumbles with me. Branches and roots scratch at us as we tumble into the hollow, limbs tangling. The space is cramped, barely big enough for one person, let alone two grown men. Toby’s breath is hot against my cheek.
The roar builds until it’s almost unbearable. It feels like the helicopter is right above us now. The downdraft batters the trees, branches lashing above us. I force myself to breathe evenly, though my heart hammers.
Toby shifts underneath me, and I become sharply, painfully cognizant of his lean, hard body aligned with mine.
Now, I have another concern besides the armed men in the helicopter spotting us.
Only an hour ago, I was pressed against Toby behind a tree looking out at the clearing, and I’d found that unpleasant enough. Now, with any space between us virtually nonexistent, I have to force my treacherous mind to not focus on the details like where his thigh presses against me, the rapid rise and fall of his chest against mine, the way his warm breath flutters the hair at my temple, or how the sharp jut of his hip bone digs into my side with each shallow breath.
But I dare not move. Not with the helicopter right above us.
Because I’m so close to Toby, I can feel him trembling, the panic emanating from him in almost palpable waves. When I pull back enough to glimpse his face, I see his eyes are clenched shut.
The helicopter hovers over us like some giant, malevolent mosquito for a few excruciating heartbeats before the pitch of the rotor blades begins to change. It’s a subtle shift at first, barely noticeable over the deafening roar. The thumping vibrations shaking the ground beneath us lessen and the downdraft whipping the leaves into a frenzy eases.
Slowly, incrementally, the helicopter moves away, the noise of its blades fading from an overwhelming scream to a distant, angry buzz.
I shift cautiously, my muscles cramped and aching. “I believe they’re moving off,” I murmur.
Toby releases a shaky exhale, eyes opening. We stare at each other in the dim hollow, faces inches apart. He looks uncharacteristically…vulnerable, and I have an overwhelming, inexplicable urge to comfort him.
It’s a good thing I don’t follow that urge. I believe there’s a high probability Toby would resort to grievous bodily harm.
I glance away briskly, concentrating on extricating myself from the tight space.
Toby follows me, brushing dirt and debris from his clothing, not meeting my eyes.
The forest seems darker in the helicopter’s wake, its ominous presence still heavy in the air.
Toby presses his lips together. “That was definitely a second helicopter. Whoever this is, they’re putting a lot of resources into finding us.”
“Which of us annoyed someone enough to inspire a kidnapping plot?” I ask.
Toby lets out a breath. “I’m thinking that of the two of us, you’re more likely to inspire a murderous rage than me,” he replies.
I’m almost relieved to hear his usual snark.
“We need to continue eastward,” I say.
“Yeah, all right.”
He stuffs all the gear into the survival kit but keeps back two energy bars. He hands one to me. “Here. Bon appétit.”
His fingers brush against mine as he hands the bar over, and a jolt shoots through my body. I try to cover up my reaction by eyeing the bar in my hand skeptically. “We need to ration the food.”
“If they track us down, it won’t matter how much food we have left. We need to keep our energy up.”
He may have a point. I open the wrapper and force myself to eat. The energy bar feels like sawdust in my already dry mouth.
Toby tilts his head back to eye the sun through the gap in the trees. “I’d say we’ve only got a few hours left before sunset. What do you reckon we aim to get as far away as possible?”
“All right.”
I consult the compass. “East is this way.”
“Then let’s get going.”
