Page 8 of Her Reluctant Hero
“Here.” He managed to turn them so that he was between her and the cliff. “Climb the mountain.”
It took her a minute to figure out he meant her to walk up the side of the cliff with her legs on either side of his body and wrap her legs around him.
Her stolen boots skidded on the loose soil, and one of her steps slipped, sending them both swaying backwards, in midair, jerking a curse from his lips.
Then she was plastered against him, still not looking.
“I’m letting go now,” he said.
She barely had time to tighten her arms around him before he released her. Her ability to cling to him was the only thing keeping her from death.
Her stomach churned. She was pretty sure Shepard wouldn’t appreciate her vomiting down his shirt.
He turned so her back was to the mountain again, his feet on either side of her hips, his arms on either side of her shoulders, walking them down. She felt each labored breath, felt the sweat that soaked his collar, smelled his fear.
That did not make her feel better.
“Is there—can I help?”
He let out a puff of breath between his teeth. “No.”
“Are the others—?”
“They’re coming.”
The strain in his voice terrified her. “Shepard—”
“Shut up. Goddess, if you don’t mind.”
If Alex thought she could do it, he’d get her to turn around, grab on to the vines he was using to climb down the cliff side. But she was already trembling like a leaf and about to choke him, she was holding on so tightly. Her breath came fast and terrified against his throat.
“I see a ledge,” he said. “Down and to my left.”
“Okay.”
If he had gloves on, he would slide the distance, but his left palm was already raw from the uncontrolled slides earlier. So he continued climbing down, ignoring the strain in his shoulders.
He reached with his left foot and pulled them sideways. He needed to release the vine he was on, then find another to get them closer to the ledge. Which meant he had to let go with one hand.
Sucking in a breath, he tightened his grip with his good right hand before reaching out with his left.
He missed and the motion sent them swinging, bouncing off the cliff and dropping another two yards before he was able to brake them by dragging his feet against the wall.
When his breathing evened out, he heard panicked little whimpers against his throat.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, and he scanned to find they were almost even with the ledge. Almost in reach.
He took a step, and then another until he felt the strain on the vine he was holding. Bracing both feet against the mountain, he reached again and grabbed. Wrapping his grip around the new vine, he tested its strength before pulling their combined weight over to it.
He managed two more transfers before his boot touched the ledge, and he used the momentum to pull them both onto it. With his last energy he turned onto his back, cushioning her as she fell on top of him.
She didn’t let go, didn’t lift her head from his neck. He rolled so her back was to the cliff, so she was secure, so she wouldn’t get hit by any bullets should Saldana’s men follow.
When his arms stopped shaking from the strain, he dislodged her death grip on his neck. She unwrapped her legs from his hips, but didn’t open her eyes, and clutched her pack to her chest, like she had to hold on to something.
“I bet you’re no fun on roller coasters,” he muttered, sitting up and resting his forearms on his knees. The ledge they’d landed on was about the size of a twin bed, and God knew how far from the forest floor. He looked at his hands, ripped up from the rough vines he’d descended. The moonlight dimmed and he glanced up to see clouds rolling in over the stars. It wasn’t called a rainforest for nothing.
They were screwed.
