Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
The earth heaved beneath her, like the ground itself was breaking loose.
She pitched forward, then caught herself, spread her arms out to keep from falling, but her efforts failed.
She tumbled forward and landed on her hands and knees.
She might have to crawl out of here. Terror coursed through her, choking out the sudden rush of tears.
We’re going to die!
“Go! Go! Out, now!” Ryder gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet. How was he even standing?
They burst through the tent flap into the chaos, snow and ice slicing their faces as the roar of collapsing snow crashed toward them from behind, chasing them. He tugged her out of the tent in the nick of time as it crumpled behind them.
Sarah tried to keep up with Ryder. Reid’s men scrambled, running for their lives.
A quick glance behind had been a mistake.
Terror gripped her at the sight of the mass of snow rushing toward them, almost as if the mountain itself had come down.
Fear curled tight, coiling around her gut until she thought she couldn’t move.
In fact, she might not have moved if it weren’t for Ryder.
He was moving for the both of them, trying to get ahead of the avalanche.
His determination inspired her in the face of this hopeless race against crushing, suffocating ice-cold death.
“We can’t make it!” she shouted. Hadn’t she?
Ryder couldn’t have heard her over the roar of the avalanche, the tons of snow that had finally dropped from the cornice—the same one he’d been warning against repeatedly.
It was like a rolling white wall that loomed above them, slamming down the mountain toward them, a deathly gavel enacting a judgment of its own.
“Ryder!” She couldn’t breathe as fear choked her. Paralyzed her.
“This way!” He gripped her wrists and shifted her body to the side, turning her perpendicular to the slope, then practically dragging her forward, away from the tents, the plane, the men .
. . everyone and everything that made up the impromptu containment operation.
The place would soon be buried, along with the wartime aircraft filled with its deadly haul.
If this was one of those moments where her life should pass before her eyes, it was more of a big, white blur.
It didn’t help that she was still breathless from the burn of decontamination chemicals because they’d removed their suits too quickly.
But if they’d waited, they wouldn’t have made it out with the slimmest chance of survival—and that had been Ryder’s call.
Behind them, snow roared and raced, a fluid and larger-than-life tsunami that would soon overwhelm them. Only, they couldn’t float to the top or survive. Instead, they’d be buried alive and the air crushed from their bodies.
Sarah’s stomach dropped, and then her boots slipped in the churning snow. Ryder again reached for her.
This time she took his hand and wouldn’t let go. “We can’t outrun it!”
“We don’t need to.”
Huh? What? He dragged her, propelling them both toward a jagged rock formation—but she saw it now. It was out of the path of the wall of death. Still, could they make it? Doubts tumbled through her, but who was she to question the wisdom of this former Navy SEAL turned wilderness guide?
It was all she could do to keep up.
The thunderous roar closed in on them, around them, overwhelming her and flooding her.
“There!” Ryder shouted as he kept moving, pointing to a shadow in the rock face. “Let’s go!”
Across the shifting ground, lungs screaming, vision blurring, she pushed her legs harder and faster than she had ever done. Her life depended on it. Snow and ice nipped at their heels. Any moment her breath could be stolen from her.
We’re not going to make it. We’re not going to make it.
Ryder tugged her forward, then shoved her ahead of him, forcing her toward the narrow opening.
He was putting her life ahead of his, and she had no time to unpack his selfless act.
A guttural crack echoed across the mountain.
In her peripheral vision she saw the avalanche sweep over the tents and the remnants of the crash site.
“Get inside! Now . . . go, go, go.”
Sarah ducked into the opening, then tripped on a ridge of ice. Ryder barreled into her, and she hit the ground hard, thunderous pressure sucking air right out of her as Ryder’s body anchored her to the floor.
Protecting her.
Again.
How many times would they land like this? The violence erupted outside the mouth of the cave as snow crashed over the opening and the world outside, and snow and ice sprayed into the cave, reaching for them like a monster clawing, furious at their escape.
She lay there, struggling to breathe.
But alive.
I’m alive. We’re alive.
She welcomed this protective and familiar pressure against her body. Sarah waited for what came next, listening to the eerie sound of a heavy, unnatural silence.
Her nose burned and eyes stung. “Ryder?”
“Yeah.” He lifted off her. “You okay?”
She’d be better once she stopped shaking uncontrollably. “Sure.”
He chuckled, and that familiar sound in this ridiculous predicament reassured her. She sucked in a deep breath of cold arctic air, smelling frozen earth and old secrets. Sarah took a moment to compose herself. Let her heart rate slow, but she wasn’t sure that would happen any time soon.
“Where are we?” She pushed up to sit and took in their surroundings.
He released a short, rough breath. Relief? Or exhaustion? “We’re safe, that’s where we are.”
“Without this spot, we might be dead and buried.”
“Without a doubt.”
She sat in stunned stillness and took in the cave’s eerie blue light—in some places. Other places looked like stone walls covered in ice. “It’s like a crystal cathedral in here.”
“Or a crypt.”
Sarah didn’t like hearing that desperate tone from Ryder, who seemed mostly upbeat, the man with the plan. Doom and gloom weren’t his modus operandi. He was always offering her comfort—squeezing her shoulder or giving her a reassuring smile.
Her throat tightened. “What do you mean? We’re getting out of here, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” But his one-word answer held nuances of doubt with a little fear mixed in too.
What happened to this hero? Sarah blinked back what would be hot tears streaming down her cold cheeks. Not now. Not . . . now.
“And what about the vials we left behind? They’re buried now. What do we do next? We can’t let someone else get them. Anyone who escaped the avalanche knows where to find them.”
“They aren’t easy to get to, as today proves. But one thing at a time. One . . . problem at a time.”
“Someone will come for them.” Sarah pulled her knees to her chest. “Someone always does. And I . . . we . . . led them right to the bioweapon. I suspect Malcolm will come.”
Ryder looked at her sharply. “Your boss?”
“My former boss who claims he’s retiring. He warned me not to come. I think . . . he didn’t want anyone else to know that he’d warned me.”
“Do you think he wants to destroy the bioweapon or claim it?” Ryder asked. “Do you think maybe he’s the one to betray you?”
“Betray me?” Sarah had been furious and even a little suspicious of Malcolm, but she could never fathom betrayal.
“Reid Maddox. The team of men here on the mountain. Who sent them if not your former boss?”
“I don’t know, honestly. I trust Malcolm. He mentored me. He was there . . . he helped me. After Jeremy was born, I retired officially.”
“But unofficially?”
“I worked as an analyst on a secure network—but chose my projects and hours. I was able to be a mother. Malcolm didn’t want to lose my skills.” She’d been through so much horror, losing her husband that way. “He claimed the CIA owed me.”
“Honestly, I thought they simply disavowed people when push came to shove.” Ryder blew out a hot breath.
“If they were NOC, then yes, they do at times. Whatever. We can’t let this end here.”
“Unfortunately, I’m sure it won’t.” He got to his feet.
He reached for her gloved hand, and she welcomed his touch, the warmth, even through her glove because it meant something deeper. His presence steadied her in ways she couldn’t understand. And plenty that she could.
They’d survived even though the mountain had tried to bury the truth they’d uncovered.