Chapter 9 #2
She tried to match his pace, pushing through the burn in her injured leg. The terrain fought them at every step… hidden rocks beneath the slush, roots that caught at her boots, and sudden dips that jarred her bones. Her breathing came harder as they climbed, the cold air burning her lungs.
Behind them, something crashed through the underbrush. The ferals pursuing them weren’t trying to be quiet anymore. Her pulse hammered against her ribs as more sounds joined the first…
“They’re gaining.” The words came out between gasps as she stumbled over a fallen log.
Zeke steadied her, his crushing grip on her elbow. His head turned, tracking sounds she couldn’t hear, and his jaw tightened. “More than the last lot. Seven, maybe eight.”
Seven or eight. The number sent ice through her veins that had nothing to do with the morning cold. He’d killed six in the storm, picking them off one by one. But seven working together? What if they rushed him all at once?
“Zeke—”
“No.” He cut her off. “I’m not leaving you.”
Her leg buckled as they scrambled up a steep slope, the cast not enough to compensate for damaged muscle and torn ligaments. She went down on one knee in the mud, biting back a cry of pain. Every second she delayed them brought those things closer, and the sounds of pursuit were getting louder.
“I’m slowing you down.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth. “You could—”
“I said no.” He pulled her to her feet, and before she could protest, he bent and threw her over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
The world tilted as her stomach pressed against his shoulder. His hand clamped across the backs of her thighs, holding her secure as he started to run. Really run, not the careful pace she realised he’d been maintaining for her benefit.
Trees blurred past as he moved with impossible speed, leaping over obstacles that would have sent her sprawling.
His breathing stayed steady even as he carried her weight up the steep terrain, power working beneath her with brutal efficiency.
She felt every stride, the controlled grace of a predator in motion.
Wind whipped her hair across her face. The forest became a green-brown smear around them, branches slapping at her back and shoulders. She tucked herself against his back, trying to make herself smaller, less of a burden for him to carry.
Terror seized her... not for herself, but for him. The thought of him getting hurt because of her. Her children were safe, grown, far away. But Zeke had no one. Only her.
She wasn’t going to let him die for her.
“Zeke, listen to me.” She had to raise her voice over the wind and his pounding footsteps. “If they catch up—”
“They won’t.”
“But if they do—”
“They won’t.” His grip tightened on her legs. “Trust me.”
She wanted to argue, to make him promise he wouldn’t sacrifice himself for her.
But the words died in her throat as he changed direction, veering hard to the left.
Through her bouncing field of vision, she caught a glimpse of gray stone rising through the trees, a vertical cliff face of sheer rock.
Sixty feet of smooth stone with nowhere to grab hold.
It was a dead end, a place that would trap them while their pursuers closed in.
“Zeke, that’s a cliff—”
“I know.”
He didn’t slow down. If anything, he sped up, racing straight toward the cliff. She heard their pursuers clearly now, snarls and breaking branches as they closed the distance. They had maybe thirty seconds, maybe less.
Twenty feet from the cliff base, Zeke shifted her weight, pulling her from his shoulder. Her feet hit the ground, and she stumbled against the cold rock, palms flat back against the stone. He pressed against her for just a moment, his mouth near her ear.
“Hold on to me. Don’t let go, no matter what.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he crouched down. “Climb on my back. Arms around my neck, legs around my waist.”
She scrambled onto his back, arms wrapping tight around his throat, legs hooking around his hips.
“What are you—”
He started to climb.
Straight up.
Her stomach lurched as the ground fell away beneath them. He found holds she didn’t see, somehow finding purchase on the smooth rock. He moved up the cliff face like gravity was just a suggestion, his frame bunching and releasing with raw power.
Ten feet. Twenty. The forest floor dropped away as he climbed with her clinging to his back. Wind caught at her clothes, trying to peel her from his body, but her grip around his neck was desperate, unbreakable.
She pressed her face into his neck, fighting vertigo as he climbed higher. Every instinct screamed at her to look down, to gauge the distance, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut. All she could do was hold on and trust that his strength wouldn’t fail.
A snarl from below made her risk a glance over her shoulder. At the base of the cliff, shapes burst from the tree line. Wrong-jointed bodies covered in black armor plating, red eyes burning with rage as they looked up at their escaping prey.
One of them tried to follow, claws scraping against stone. It made it maybe six feet before falling back with a frustrated howl. Another attempted the same, managing to gouge marks in the rock before gravity claimed it too.
They’d escaped. For now.
The cliff seemed to go on forever, Zeke’s breathing showing strain as he hauled both their weights up the sheer face. Her arms ached from holding on, trembling with exhaustion and leftover adrenaline. But she didn’t let go. Wouldn’t let go.
He’d asked her to trust him, and she did. Completely.
The rock changed texture, becoming rougher, more featured. A ledge appeared above them, and with one last surge of effort, Zeke pulled them both up and over the edge.