Page 101 of Dark Roads
I got to my feet and ran awkwardly over to my gear, my hands cuffed behind my back. There, one of my knives. A shot rang out. They were still struggling. I couldn’t tell if one of them was hurt. I dragged my foot over the knife sheath, trying to get the knife out.
“Get your hands up.”
I froze, but Vaughn wasn’t looking at me. Panting, nose bleeding, he was standing over Thompson and pointing a gun at his head. Thompson’s lips were slick with blood, a cut open on his cheek and one above his eye. He slowly put up his hands.
“Vaughn. Don’t do this. You’ll go to prison for years.”
“They’d have to prove it was me first, Thompson. I’ve got a crazy girl.” He gestured at me with his head. “And while she was resisting arrest, she got my gun from me.”
“I already started a report on you—I knew you were dirty. There’ll be questions.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can make them go away. You think you’re the first person to try to bring me down?” He cocked the hammer. “Sorry it had to work out like this, Thompson.”
CHAPTER 39
Beth
Beth slid one arm under Wolf’s stomach, the other around his back end, then hoisted him up into her arms and half staggered, half ran into the woods. She wove through the trees, hoping they blocked her from view. She searched the shadows ahead for the bluffs. Was she close? She’d gotten disorientated. Everything looked the same. Wolf whimpered, then turned silent, his body quivering. Scared he was bleeding out, Beth stopped behind a cedar, and eased him to the ground. When she reached for his side, he snapped at her, his teeth clicking together. She yanked her hand back and tugged her shirt over her head, wrapped it around his snout.
“Stop it. I’m trying to save you.” He growled and struggled but he couldn’t open his mouth. She gently pressed her fingers across the fur on his side, and at his muffled yelp, she knew she’d found the source of his pain. She spread his fur with one hand, found the long, deep gash, and cringed. Blood. Torn flesh. She took a steadying breath.
“It doesn’t look bad. You’re going to be okay.” She had no idea if he was going to be okay but figured it was a bad time to explain to him that she didn’t know anything about injured dogs.
Beth unwound the bandanna from her hair, wrapped it around his midsection, and applied pressure. Over her ragged breathing, she tried to hear where Vaughn and Hailey had gone, but she couldn’t make out any noise. She hoped Hailey was okay.
“Okay. We can do this.” Beth hesitated, then loosenedWolf’s muzzle. When he didn’t bite her, she loosened it more so he could pant, then scooped him up again.
She looked at the sky, trying to track the position of the sun, but she couldn’t see it through the canopy of trees. She kept going, slowing to a walk. Wolf’s body was getting heavier by the minute, and her shoulders and back ached. She adjusted Wolf’s weight and he let out a whine, a sad sound that stabbed her ears. Her arm felt damp where his back leg was resting. He was still bleeding. She pushed on, stumbling through the brush. She heard rushing water.
The trees thinned and she broke out of the woods at the edge of the river. She’d gone in the wrong direction. She looked up and down the shore. No sign of Hailey or Vaughn. She crouched and set Wolf down, one reassuring hand on his back. She sucked in some breaths.
The river looked shallow in that section, rocks visible under the water, light patches of sand. Where were the bluffs? They should be upstream. She remembered the wide pool, the cliff, the steep bank. Maybe if she was out farther into the river, she could see around the bend.
“Hang on, boy. I’ll look and come back for you.” Wolf whined, struggled to his feet, and took a few hobbling steps. “Stay.” She held her palm out like she’d seen Hailey do.
Wolf halted, but his eyebrows were furrowed, his ears flat. She took a few cautious steps into the water, gasping at the cold. She glanced over her shoulder. Now Wolf was standing on a rock, his back leg lifted with only the toes touching, that whine still leaking out.
The stones were slippery. She waded slowly into the icy water, placing each foot carefully, arms spread for balance. When she got closer to the middle, the undercurrent began to push against her knees. She shielded her eyes from the sun, scanned the bank upstream, then down where it ran deeper—and, judging by the white froth, a lot faster. In fact, it looked like it went through a gorge. She turned to check on Wolf and realized he’d followed her into the water.
“No. Stop!” She held out a hand. “Stay. Good boy.” But he was still trying to get to her, awkwardly hobbling on three legs as he scrambled over a rock. She made her way toward him, lurching through the water. “Stay!” He barked, four frustrated yelps.
She was close enough now to reach and touch his snout, while trying to make some sort of sound that would soothe a dog, but she’d extended herself too far. Her left foot slipped from its boot, lodged between two rocks, and her ankle twisted. She landed on her side in the water, going under. She lifted her head, coughing and gasping. She grabbed at rocks, struggling to get to her feet, but the current was too strong. It pushed her downriver like she was on a slide.
Wolf hopped toward her, barking wildly. The water picked him up and now he was swimming, his paws scooping at the water. He was being rushed past her.
She lunged and hooked her arm around his neck. He turned his body. Then she realized he was pulling toward shore—and he was a strong swimmer. Maybe they had a chance.
She kicked with Wolf, using her free arm to plunge into the water and propel them forward. The water was running too fast and so cold her legs were numb. The shore became trees, then rock as they floated past. They’d reached the high rock bluffs of the gorge.
They were going to go through the chute.
The rapids bounced them up and down and she held on to Wolf, both of them trying to keep their heads above water. They went under a couple of times, but she clung to his neck,and they surfaced again. Once, when they were caught in a whirlpool, he was wrenched from her arms, but when they circled around, she got hold of him.
They spun through the gorge, cliffs forming jagged walls, until it opened into a wide pool. Logs hung over one side, and she reached for the branches as they were carried underneath, but the wood was brittle and broke off in her hands.
Her kicks grew weaker and her teeth chattered. She thought of hypothermia. How long did it take? Maybe it was already happening. Wolf was barely paddling. They were floating, spinning helplessly, bobbing. She stopped fighting, wound her hands under Wolf’s bandanna, and hoped that if she passed out she wouldn’t drag him to his death.
When she heard gunshots, she jerked and floundered in the water, twisting her head around so she could see the shore. Wolf also began to thrash, his paws slapping the surface.
