Chapter 41 Freefall
Freefall
Scout
Scout turned to stone as he saw it—Evan’s hands shoving against Izzy’s shoulders, sending her tumbling backward into open air. Her scream ripped through the gorge, echoing down the ridges like it would never end. The sound carved straight into his chest.
Izzy… God, no.
For a heartbeat, he couldn’t move. The world tilted out from under him. Then instinct slammed back into place. Move.
He bolted forward, boots hammering the dirt. Skidding to the edge of Fork Ridge Overlook, he braced his palms against the rough stone. Cold wind rushed up from the gorge, sharp with the tang of wet granite and distant rain.
Below—maybe fifteen feet down—Izzy lay sprawled on a narrow rock shelf. A tree limb jutted just above her, streaked with blood where she’d struck. Her arm bent at an unnatural angle, her temple gashed, her body frighteningly still—until her fingers twitched.
“IZZY!” His shout tore across the gorge. “Hang on! I’m coming!”
She didn’t answer. Panic clawed at him, but he forced himself to focus. Rope. Anchor. Now.
Scout yanked his coil of line from his pack, looping it fast around a sturdy oak rooted near the overlook. He cinched it tight, clipped in, and grabbed his radio.
“Unit Six to Dispatch: Fork Ridge Overlook. Female over the side. Initiating rappel; request SAR and medevac. Fire to secure landing zone at trailhead.”
“Copy, Unit Six. Rescue and air support en route.”
He shoved the radio back and started down, boots scraping rock, gravel sliding away beneath him. Don’t slip. Don’t you dare slip.
Dropping to the ledge, he fell to one knee beside her. Blood streaked her hair; her lips were pale, her breathing shallow. A jagged branch had torn her jacket and skin, leaving a deep gash across her side.
For one stunned second, guilt speared through him—too slow, too late. She’s alive. That’s all that matters.
He pressed two fingers to her neck. A pulse—faint but steady. Relief hit so hard it nearly dropped him.
“Izzy, it’s me. Scout. Can you hear me?”
Her lips parted, a thread of sound escaping. “Yes… hurts…”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said, brushing damp hair from her face. “Don’t move. Rescue’s coming. You’re not alone. Not for one damn second.”
Minutes crawled until calls echoed from above.
“Rescue team! Lowering basket!”
Scout tilted his head back, watching lines unfurl as an orange litter descended, bumping against the rock.
“Over here!” His voice cracked as he waved.
Two helmeted rescuers rappelled down, calm and efficient. They checked her pupils, stabilized her head and neck, splinted her arm, and braced her into the basket. Izzy moaned as they lifted her—just a sound, but it broke him.
Radios buzzed steady codes, voices clipped and controlled. Scout gripped the rope harder, wanting to shout that this wasn’t just another call—this was Izzy. But he held back, giving them space to work.
Hold on, Iz. Just hold on.
The rescuers hoisted her basket up the cliff, ropes creaking until it vanished over the rim. Scout unclipped and scrambled up, lungs burning, grit under his palms.
At the top, Burke appeared—pale from the climb, eyes blazing. He grabbed Scout’s arm, steadying him.
“What happened?” His tone was gravel.
“I saw him,” Scout rasped. “That son of a bitch shoved her. I swear to God, Burke, I’ll—”
Burke cut him off, grip tightening. “Later. Right now, we keep her alive and get him boxed in.”
The medevac rotors thundered as the team carried Izzy down the trail. Dust and leaves whipped the air while paramedics loaded her into the helicopter bound for Asheville Trauma. Scout stood, a tightness he couldn’t shake as he watched the aircraft vanish into the gray sky.
Burke’s expression hardened. “Get back to town. Put out a BOLO on the Tacoma. Every county. I want him cornered.”
Scout nodded. “Copy that.”
Somewhere down the ridge, Evan was already on the move, his Tacoma eating up the mountain roads. Scout felt it like a wire pulled taut—he was close. The chase was on.
Evan
Farther down, half-hidden among the trees at a pull-off, Evan leaned against the hood of his truck, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. He’d seen Izzy strapped into the basket, seen the urgency on the medics’ faces. Her scream still echoed in his ears—pure terror. It pleased him.
As the medevac roared skyward, he flicked the cigarette into the leaves. Jason’s voice echoed in his head: Don’t let me down.
He chuckled under his breath. “How’s that for not letting you down?”
The game wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But for now, he felt the dark satisfaction of a job well done.