The Escape (US Marshals #1) - Lisa Harris Page 0,10

plane shifted beneath her, dropping several feet before stopping again.

Her shoulder slammed into the side of the plane, knocking the wind out of her.

“Madison?”

Stillness surrounded them. Her fingers gripped the seat in front of her. Seconds passed. The plane creaked beneath her. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for the plane to fall again.

He reached out and put his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”

“No. We need to get out of here. Another drop like that could kill us.”

Their options were limited, but what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t get him loose without moving the seat, and that meant the risk of the plane falling again.

“We need something to pry this seat forward,” she said, turning carefully to see if anything in the cabin looked useful. She came up short.

“You could to go to the cockpit again and see if there’s a crash ax.”

“It’s too unstable.”

“We don’t have a choice. We need some kind of leverage to move this seat off of me.” He gave her a weak smile. “Go on.”

She turned back around, careful not to move too quickly. A minute later, she’d found it and returned to the cabin.

“Where do you think we are?” she asked as she jammed the ax into a spot where she could get the leverage she needed to free him.

“I’m thinking we have to be over Idaho.”

She secured the ax’s position and used her forearm to wipe sweat from her brow. “Okay, so what do you know about this part of the country?”

“It’s full of national parks and is one of the least densely populated states. The landscape is rugged—well, you can see that for yourself.”

A shiver slid through her. “Which means we could be hours or days from human contact.”

“Unless we happened to land somewhere right outside a town. There’s still a chance someone saw the crash.”

She pulled on the ax with all her strength, careful not to strain her wrist or make any sudden movements that might further dislodge the plane.

The seat groaned under the pressure.

“Gently,” Jonas cautioned.

“I’m doing my best.”

“You’re doing great. Just another half an inch or so, and I think I can get out.”

A few seconds later he was free.

“Is your leg injured?” she asked.

He pulled up his pant leg in order to see. “It looks as if I’m going to have quite a bruise, and the skin is scraped up pretty badly, but nothing feels broken.”

“Good.” She grabbed her backpack, then handed him his. “I think the only safe way out—if you can call it safe—is through the cockpit.”

Their weight any farther toward the back of the plane would be too dangerous, causing the metal death trap they were in to shift and drop.

“For now, all that matters is that we locate our second prisoner.”

They moved slowly, one at a time, out of the shattered cockpit window, careful to avoid the shards of glass covering the confined space. She tried not to make any sudden movements while Jonas took her hand to help her out. Outside the plane, she made her way toward the trunk of a tree, thankful for the thick branches that had kept them up so far. From the treetops, though, all she could see was the surrounding thick forest. Which meant the likelihood of running into a hiker seemed slim.

A couple minutes later, they’d both managed to climb down the branches and make it onto the ground.

She brushed off her pants, then grabbed her backpack and headed toward the downed section of the plane, careful to avoid walking directly beneath the craft they just escaped. Riley still lay motionless in his seat, but Barrick . . .

“Jonas.” She spun around to face him. “Barrick’s gone.”

Five

Jonas stared at Barrick’s empty seat. Their worst-case scenario—one they tried to avoid at all costs—had just become a reality. He studied the darkening clouds connected to the storm they’d just passed through. Not only did they have no idea where they were, but the storm churned above them, and as soon as the sun set, the temperatures were going to drop significantly.

At the moment, bad weather felt like the least of their worries. There was a dangerous man out there, and if he found them first, Jonas had no doubt he’d kill again.

“Riley’s definitely dead,” Madison said, walking back toward Jonas. “Looks as if he has a broken neck.”

“He probably died upon impact.”

But he knew what she was thinking. Paul Riley was no longer a risk and no longer a part of the equation.