Chapter 2 #2
She pushed out a calming breath, then turned, walking the edge until she found a hint of a line. Not a path, more like a layered crevice cutting through the basalt sea-stack. She glanced back at Buck, nodded, then dropped to her ass.
A quick turn, and she had her legs dangling over the edge, her hands wrapped around some questionable handholds. Another breath, and she moved, slowly lowering herself as she scrambled to find protruding rocks and narrow cracks — anything she could grasp or wedge her fingers and boots in.
The ocean roared below, white froth surging along the waves as it crashed into the column before rolling out. A reminder that the water wasn’t a refuge, just another instrument of death.
Sweat beaded her brow, every move testing her nerves as she descended the face, boots slipping on the slick surface, fingers cramping from the cold. She’d dropped about fifty feet when shots cracked above her.
Buck. Forever guarding her ass.
She half considered climbing back up, facing the men head on, until he appeared above her, scaling down the face as if he’d been handed a mission from God. He’d covered half her distance when lights brightened the edge, a few rocks bouncing down the slope.
She picked up her pace, using roots and brush, leaping from one side to the other in an effort to make up time.
She closed in on a slight overhang, nearly falling when the small shelf beneath her boots gave way, sloughing down the cliff with a loud crack.
She slipped, hanging by one hand, scrambling to find a hold, her fingers slowly sliding off the rock.
Waves crashed below, the spray kissing her boots as she flailed against the stone, every hold breaking off the moment she touched it. She hugged the cliff, smoothing her hand across the surface, searching for even a hint of a lip when her fingers slipped.
There was a second of hang time. Of her palms sliding over the wet surface as she kicked at the air before Buck grabbed her wrist, stopped her from splattering onto the jagged rocks below.
She didn’t know how he’d reached her in time. If he’d jumped twenty feet or just materialized beside her. Didn’t care as he lowered her a few feet — held tight until she’d wedged her boots into a large crack.
Her arms shook, her heart pounding against her ribs, muscles screaming, but she regained her balance, started moving just as bullets pierced the darkness, sparking off rocks, whizzing past her head.
Buck managed to return a few trigger pulls, sent the assholes scrambling back from the edge.
It wasn’t much, but enough that she found a better line, descended the next section in half the time.
Voices rose above them, lights searching the face.
The beams skipped over them, the protruding rock providing some cover as she hit a tidal ledge several feet above the shoreline.
Buck dropped in beside her, blood staining his shirt, cuts scratched down his face.
He curled over her when more brass ticked off the shelf beside them, a few rocks tumbling down from above.
They waited for another lull, then followed the shelf until it ended at a shallow sea cave not far off. Not deep, more of a massive gaping hollow scooped out of the stone, but it beat the alternative — a long, winding finger of a trail that followed the cliff until it disappeared into the night.
Buck peered inside, reached for his flashlight when he stopped, shoved her inside before drawing his Sig, taking a shot just as a guy in black tactical gear barreled out of the dark, tackling Buck to the ground.
Buck rolled with the force, grappling with the guy as they exchanged blows, the next breaker sending a foot of water over the ledge.
Tierney drew her Beretta, but they kept changing places too fast to risk a head shot, and she wouldn’t have much luck getting a bullet past his ballistic vest. She holstered her weapon, unsheathed her knife, diving into the fray when Buck kicked the guy in the head, put a foot of distance between them.
She rolled to her feet already inside the strike zone, blocking a firm right hook before landing two kicks to his knee and groin, finishing it with a lunging stab at his chest. The blade slipped through the fabric, sinking deep before she yanked it out, stepped back as the bastard staggered, tripping off the edge and into the crushing surf.
Buck hooked her arm, pressed her against the cliff, cocking his head as he listened for more movement. A blast of static blared above, then nothing but the pounding of the waves, the constant roar of the ocean.
He shook his head, ushered her into the cave as he removed his flashlight, used the red-light setting to give a muted view of the cave. Dagger-like points covered the roof, a collection of black, angular boulders lining the bottom.
He panned toward the back, stopped. Caught in the rocks were shredded, weathered scraps of bright orange fabric, the edges frayed and worn.
Alongside were scattered bones, the surfaces worn smooth by salt and time.
Buck inched forward, shining the red light on a skull tipped over on its side, a rusted, spent rifle casing half-buried in a layer of sand beside it.
He glanced at her. “Is it just me, or does that look like the same kind of pants that guy was wearing?”
“Identical.” She knelt beside what looked like a femur. “There’s more than one set of remains in here.”
“Which means, our friends have been at this for a while.”
“What the hell do you think they’re doing?”
“Not sure. But everything that comes to mind is pretty damn dark.” He unpacked his cell, snapped a dozen photos before tucking it away. “It also means, they’ve got more motivation than just tonight’s killing to ensure we don’t make it out of here alive.”
“All the more reason to move…” She paused, turning when a distant hum rose above the roaring ocean. “Do you hear that?”
Buck stepped in front, keeping her mostly behind him as he scanned the towering stack.
The whine drew closer, sounding almost insect-like when a ruggedized, surveillance drone dropped down from the cliff above, hovering outside the cave’s entrance, its red lens glowing in the dark, locking onto them.
Shouts rose from above, more rocks tumbling down the cliff, hitting the shelf with a concussive thump.
Buck cursed. “It’s fucking filming us.”
He aimed, blew the thing out of the sky with a single shot before motioning toward the path she’d already decided she didn’t want to traverse. “We need to vanish.”
Another wave crashed over the lip, surging up to their knees, nearly sweeping them off their feet as it flooded part of the cave, then slipped back, curled over the ledge.
She studied the jagged path, heart in her throat, memories of that icy river in Colombia bleeding through. How she’d already beat the odds once. The chance of making it a second time… “It’s suicide. Half the path is underwater every time the tide rolls in on a wave.”
“We don’t have enough ammo for a head-on fight. Not when we don’t know how many men there are. What kind of resources they have. If they’ve managed to call in backup. So, unless you’ve got any other options…”
She looked over her shoulder as more rocks shattered against the ledge, movement sounding on the face. It was only a matter of time before more of those assholes descended the cliff, or they sent another drone — one armed with more than just a camera.
And she knew, they either chanced the trail, or they became the next set of bones rotting in the cave.