Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“What’s wrong?” Colt rasped.
I started working again, the barrel of the gun pressed against my temple. But I already knew it was useless. There was too much to fix and not enough time.
Colt was going to die. And as soon as he realized that, he’d kill me.
59
Dominic
I OPENED MY EYES. The first thing I saw was the gnarled trunk of a huge tree, lit by the flickering light of the pickup’s one remaining headlight. It was closer than should have been possible.
The pickup had smashed into the tree so hard, the front of the car had almost wrapped around it. The tree trunk was about where the windshield wipers should have been. I would have slammed headfirst into it if the safety belt hadn’t stopped me. I was dusted with broken glass and I had a broken tooth but otherwise, I was okay.
The damage was so bad, the doors were jammed shut so I had to climb out through a window. I looked up at the hill. The road was barely visible, high above me. The slope between me and it looked damn near vertical...and I was going to have to climb it on foot.
I started climbing. With each step, my feet sank knee-deep into the snow. My scrubs were soaked in seconds, snow clinging to me through the thin fabric and sending a deep chill into my bones. It was too steep to walk so I went on all fours, shoving my hands deep into the drifts to grab at the grass and tree roots beneath them. I wasn’t wearing gloves and my hands went steadily numb. Then the pain started, a burning, prickling agony. Closing my fingers on a root felt like grabbing a hot pipe. And the road didn’t seem to be getting any closer.
I gritted my teeth and pushed on, hauling myself up the hill a foot at a time. My legs screamed, the muscles forced beyond exhaustion. The pain in my hands turned white-hot and I knew frostbite must be close.
It took everything I had. By the time I finally hauled myself over the edge and rolled onto the road, I was heaving for breath and soaked with sweat. As I lay there, the vicious wind lashed my body, chilling me in an instant and leaving me shaking so hard, I wasn’t sure I could stand. The moon had gone behind a cloud and, with no flashlight, it was almost totally black. Would I even be able to find the camp?
A deep tiredness hit me: hypothermia setting in. My body felt like lead and the frozen road I was lying on was like a feather mattress. All I wanted to do was go to sleep.
But then I thought of her. Of silky, copper hair and milky skin. Of the way she looked when she was scared. She was scared right now. She needed me.
I took a deep, ragged breath and pushed one hand into the road to lever me up, knowing how much it would hurt. I screamed loud enough to shake the trees, white fire blazing up my wrists and arms, but I was up onto my knees and the pain had chased away the tiredness. I got a foot under me and heaved myself up to standing, staggering a little.
Far off in the distance, I could see a glow that might be headlights. I turned towards it. And started to run.
60
Amy
“WHAT’S wrong?” asked Colt.
I shook my head, but there were too many clues, he was going to figure it out. The red stain had spread, its fingers almost brushing the trees. He must be feeling light-headed from blood loss, by now. And I knew he could see my tears, frozen into shining trails on my cheeks. Every time I tried to grab the bullet fragment, I just pushed it deeper, causing more bleeding that I had to frantically work to stop. There was just too much to do: I didn’t have enough hands.
Colt grabbed the leg of one of his men as he walked past. “If I don’t make it,” he slurred, “kill her. Take the gold, blow the mountain and get out.”
No. No no no. I worked frantically, no longer caring if I caused pain. Colt grunted and the gun barrel scraped painfully against my head, his finger tight on the trigger. But if I didn’t save him, I was dead anyway. I could see the bullet fragment gleaming, in amongst the red and pink. Another minute and maybe—
“Take care of my son,” Colt told his men.
And he died.
61
Dominic
AS I STAGGERED out of the trees, I saw Beckett on her knees next to Colt’s motionless body. One of Colt’s men pulled the gun from Colt’s limp fingers.
He made the mistake of pointing it at the woman I loved.
I ran forward, bellowing in rage. The guy spun in shock and tried to bring the gun around, but it was too late. When my fist connected with his jaw, it felt like every nerve ending in my hand was being plunged into lava. But it worked. He went down and the gun went flying. But the other one swung his rifle towards me—