Chapter 17
Mitch
I exploded forward, charging at Doug. Four strides, and I locked my hands around the rifle barrel, forcing it up and away.
Doug fired, and the bullet screamed into the empty sky. The muzzle blast was deafening, the recoil jerking through both our arms.
Charlie's cry of terror barely broke through the ringing in my ears.
I punched Doug's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him in a wet gasp. He doubled over, but his grip on the rifle didn't loosen.
Stubborn bastard.
I twisted the barrel hard, using his own momentum against him, and slammed my knee into his ribs. A bone cracked. Doug screamed. But fury, or desperation, or madness kept him fighting.
He swung the rifle like a club, the stock catching me across the jaw.
Stars exploded in my vision. I tasted copper.
"Mitch!" Charlie's shriek carved through the ringing in my ears.
I couldn't look at her. Couldn't afford the distraction.
Doug yanked the rifle back, trying to bring it around. I held on, my fingers locked around the barrel. We struggled for control, neither of us willing to let go. The rifle jerked between us as he tried to aim it at me.
I drove my forehead into his nose.
The crunch was satisfying. Blood sprayed.
Doug's eyes went wild as animal panic mixed with rage.
"Stop! Stop this!" Charlie yelled.
He threw his weight sideways, trying to break free. The rifle swung wildly between us.
We stumbled backward. My boots scrabbled for purchase on the uneven ground, and we crashed to the dirt in a tangle of limbs, the rifle trapped between our bodies.
Doug clawed at my face, my throat, anything he could reach.
I rolled toward him, trying to pin him down. But he fought like a cornered rat, all teeth and desperation and zero technique.
He punched my temple. Pain exploded through my skull. "Son of a bitch!"
"Doug. Stop!" Charlie yelled.
Through the haze of pain, I saw her come at Doug from his blind side. Her boot slammed square into his ribs. Not a weak kick either. She put her whole body into it.
"You bitch!" Doug wheezed, his face twisting with rage. "You're dead! You hear me? Both of you are—"
"Charlie, no!" I grabbed Doug's shirt to keep him from lunging at her. "Get the hell back!"
She froze, her face pale but defiant. Her fists stayed clenched at her sides, knuckles white. She was terrified, but ready to defend me again if she had to.
Brave. Beautiful. Incredible.
Doug twisted in my grip. "I'm gonna kill you!" He lunged toward her.
I grabbed his ankle and yanked hard.
Doug went down, his head slamming into a rock with a sickening crack. A gash split open above his eyebrow, blood streaming down into his left eye. He twisted, kicking at my face.
I caught his boot with both hands, barely stopping it inches from my nose. My arms shook with the effort.
We were both running on fumes. Exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, it was all catching up. Every movement was like pushing through wet concrete. My muscles screamed. My lungs burned.
But he'd gone too far to stop now. And I couldn't.
If I did, he'd kill Charlie.
Doug's hand scrabbled across the ground and closed around a rock. Baseball-sized, with jagged edges.
He swung it at my head in a wild arc.
I jerked back, but the rock grazed my cheek, slicing through skin. Hot blood ran down my face.
"Mitch!" Charlie cried.
"Stay back!" I yelled at her.
Fury flared white-hot through my chest. I drove my elbow down into his wrist with everything I had left.
Doug howled. As the rock tumbled from his grip, I threw myself on top of him, jamming my forearm across his throat. I put my full weight behind it, leaning in until I felt his windpipe flatten beneath the pressure.
"Stop this," I growled into his face. "Stop it!"
Doug's eyes went wide, then bulged. His hands clawed at my arm, fingernails scraping skin, trying to pry me off. His face flushed red. Then darker. Purple.
His legs thrashed beneath me. Weakening.
"Mitch! Don't!" Charlie's voice broke through the red haze clouding my vision.
I could've ended it right there. Just pressed a little harder. Held on for another thirty seconds. Watched the light fade from his eyes.
One less problem.
One less threat.
I glanced at her. She stood a few feet away, face drained of color, hands shaking at her sides. Tears streaked her cheeks.
"Don't kill him," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "Please. You're not like him."
Wasn't I?
I'd killed before. In Kandahar. In the Hindu Kush. In a dozen other places with names I'd tried to forget. Men who’d tried to kill me. Men who’d deserved it.
But those had been split-second decisions. Life or death. Kill or be killed. War.
This was different.
This was a choice.
I eased the pressure on Doug's throat. Just enough to let air through.
Doug sucked in a ragged, wheezing gasp. His whole body shuddered with it.
I grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him close. "You're done. You hear me? It's—"
Doug's knee drove up into my groin.
White-hot agony detonated through my body. The world went white. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I rolled away, curling into myself, fighting the urge to vomit.
Doug scrambled to his feet, coughing and choking. Blood streamed from his shattered nose and the gash near his temple, painting half his face red. His eyes were wild, feral and unhinged. The rifle dangled from the strap still looped over his shoulder, swaying as he moved.
"You bastard!" he rasped, his voice ruined. He lunged at me.
I was still doubled over, sucking in shallow breaths, my vision tunneling.
Doug's shoulder drove into my chest like a battering ram. The impact lifted me off my feet. I flew backward, heels dragging through loose gravel at the cliff edge.
Doug's eyes flew wide. He tried to plant his feet, arms windmilling desperately.
But momentum didn't care.
I twisted, reaching for something to stop my fall. My hand caught the rifle strap across Doug's chest. Then a fistful of his shirt.
Our eyes met for a split second.
Then gravity took over, and we tumbled over the edge.
I hit the slope hard, my back slamming into rock and dirt. The world became a chaos of tumbling, bouncing, spinning like boulders in a landslide.
Rocks tore at my ass, my arms, my head. I held onto Doug's shirt and our bodies locked together as we rolled. Over and over. Sky, then earth. Earth, then sky.
Somewhere above, Charlie screamed my name.
Pain crashed through me in waves. My ribs. My spine. My skull.
My shoulder slammed into a boulder. The collision spun us sideways. We slid another ten feet in a spray of gravel.
We hit a ledge, and the impact punched the air from my lungs in a violent rush. My head cracked against rock, and the world exploded into white light. Stars burst behind my eyelids like fireworks.
For a moment, I just lay there, stunned, trying to breathe. White spots swarmed my vision, multiplying, merging, consuming everything.
When my vision cleared, we were sprawled on a narrow shelf of rock about six feet wide, protruding from the cliff face like an oyster shell. Below us, another fifteen or twenty feet down, the river churned brown and angry.
Doug was beside me, face down. Not moving. The rifle had landed a few feet away, wedged against a small outcropping of rock near the edge of the ledge. Miraculously still in one piece.
The jewels had spilled from the pouch and scattered across the ledge like priceless confetti.
The blazing sun caught them, bringing them to life.
Deep crimson rubies, vivid green emeralds, sapphires the color of deep ocean water.
The diamond earrings dazzled. The chain glowed like a golden snake.
One massive diamond seemed to glow from within, pulsing with its own internal light.
They were breathtaking.
And they were cursed. They'd already gotten one man killed. Nearly us, too.
"Doug. You alive, dickhead?" Pushing up on my elbow, I shoved his shoulder, and his head wobbled. "Hey, you okay?"
Doug groaned. His hand twitched.
"You happy now, you stupid bastard?" I tried to sit up, but pain speared through my chest. "Son of a bitch."
"Mitch!" Charlie's cry echoed from above, sharp with panic.
I didn't even have the strength to wave and let her know I was still breathing.
Doug turned his head toward me. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. His face was a mask of cuts and dirt with red smeared across pale skin. "Asshole."
"Yeah, right back at you, dickhead."
The ledge beneath us was one massive slab of red rock. But dozens of tiny pebbles scattered across its surface were sliding toward the edge, rolling like marbles on a tilted table.
My stomach dropped. Shit. We'd dislodged it.
"Doug, we need to get off this ledge." I reached for him. "Now."
"No," he whispered. His eyes locked on something beyond me. "No, no, no..."
I followed his gaze to the jewels.
Doug started crawling toward them, fingers scraping across stone.
He'd completely lost it.
"This ledge isn't stable. We have to get off it." I pushed myself up on shaking arms, every muscle screaming in protest.
"My jewels." Doug's eyes stayed locked on those gems, pupils dilated with obsession. He crawled forward, reaching for an emerald the size of a thumbnail.
"Forget them. We need to go."
"No!" His voice cracked. "I need them." He grabbed the emerald, clutching it in his fist. Then he reached for a ruby.
"Doug, stop." I forced myself to my knees, every movement sending fresh agony through my body. "The ledge is breaking. We have to get off it."
"I need these." He grabbed a few more, stuffing them into his pockets.
"There's no time." I moved toward him carefully, trying not to shift too much weight. "The rock's moving."
"Liar!" He spun on me, eyes wild. "You want them for yourself! You've wanted them all along!"
"I don't want the damn jewelry. I want to get off this rock before we both die."
He reached for a gold bracelet.
The ledge shifted. A crack spider-webbed across the stone.
I lunged forward, grabbing his arm. "Move. Now!"
"Let go of me!" He tried to shake me off, but his hands were full of jewels.
"I'm trying to save you, you stupid bastard."
He swung at me awkwardly, one-handed, still clutching his precious stones.
I blocked his fist easily. "Don't be an idiot."
"I said, let go!" He swung again, harder this time.
I caught his wrist mid-swing. "Doug, please. Listen to me. The ledge is—"
He wrenched his arm back with surprising strength. The sudden movement threw us both off-balance.
The ledge shifted beneath us with a sickening grind. More cracks splintered across the stone.
Doug's foot slipped on loose gravel, and he staggered backward toward the edge, arms windmilling.
"Doug!" I lunged forward, grabbing for his shirt.
My fingers caught fabric for a split second before it tore free.
Doug stumbled off the ledge. His hand shot out in desperation and clamped around my ankle.
The sudden weight yanked me off my feet. I pitched forward, sliding toward the edge on my stomach. "Shit!" My hands scrabbled against the stone. My fingers closed around a gnarled tree root jutting from the cliff face.
The sudden stop nearly ripped my arm from its socket. Pain detonated through my shoulder, white-hot and blinding. Every tendon screamed.
"Mitch!" Charlie screamed from above.
Doug dangled below me, his hand clamped around my boot in a death grip. His weight pulled at me, dragging me down. The root creaked and slipped an inch out of the earth. My grip started to slip.
"Help me!" Doug's voice was raw with terror. "Please!" He swung back and forth, his momentum making the root groan and shift. Each swing sent fresh agony through my shoulder.
"Stop moving!" I yelled. "You're making it worse."
But panic had him. He thrashed wildly, his free hand clawing at my leg, trying to climb up my body.
"Doug, listen to me." I strained to look down at him. "Give me your other hand."
"I can't."
"Drop the damn jewels and grab my hand."
His eyes were wild, bouncing between his clenched fist and the churning water below. "No! I need them! I need—"
"You need to live!" The root shifted, pulling loose from the rock another inch. "Shit! Give me your hand. Now!"
"Pull me up." He yanked on my leg, nearly dislodging my grip on the root. "Just pull me up."
"I can't. Not with one hand. You have to help me."
My fingers were slipping. The root was coming loose. We were both going to fall.
"Doug!" I screamed. "Drop the jewels and grab my hand!"
For a moment, our eyes met.
I saw the choice playing out across his face. The damn bastard had lost his mind.
His grip on the jewels tightened.
"Please," I said, quieter now. "Please, mate. Just let them go or we both die."
His mouth opened. Closed. He blinked at me as if he'd suddenly found complete clarity.
"What are you doing, Doug?"
His fingers loosened on my ankle. Not to reach for my hand. Just... loosened.
"Doug, no. Don't—"
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"No!" I pleaded. "Stop!"
"Tell my daughter I love her." He let go.
Jewels flew from his hand, flashing red and green and blue, spinning through the air as he dropped. Ten feet. Twelve.
He hit the water with a splash that seemed impossibly small for a grown man.
The current caught him immediately. His head surfaced once, mouth open in a silent scream, then he went under.
He surfaced again farther down, arms flailing.
Then the river swept him around a bend.
And he was gone.