over a tree stump, but grabbed a vine to keep from tumbling down the ravine. Derrick was close behind her, his movements as stealthy as a cat’s.
Ellie reached a section where the creek was overflowing again. There was no time to take the long way around, so she trudged through the ankle-deep frigid water, shivering as a bone-deep cold seeped through her.
Peering ahead, she spotted movement. It was a tall figure, with broad shoulders. A man wearing a black ski cap. But he was so fast she couldn’t distinguish any details.
Snatching a tree limb, she hoisted herself up a steep incline, hoping for a better vantage point. A few more feet, and she’d reach the crest of the hill, where she’d hopefully be able to catch a glimpse of his face.
But just as she latched onto a vine to swing herself across the ravine, which fell a good seventy-five feet below, a shot rang out. The bullet pinged by Ellie’s head, then another one zinged, snapping past her. Derrick cursed as he ducked. Using her feet, she swung her body in an attempt to propel herself to the other side. Another bullet skimmed her hand, the sound vibrating in her ears, and the vine slipped between her fingers.
Flailing to hang on, her body swung back and forth, and she attempted to jump back onto the ground beside Derrick. He lurched to his knees, firing at the shooter, who’d run up the hill.
Her feet finally connected with vines and weeds, and she released the vine in her hand, but she missed the edge and hit the side. Frantically trying to slow her descent, she tucked her body and curled on her side, rolling down the hill.
As she descended, her vision blurred and she crashed headfirst into a jagged rock.
Forty-Six
“Ellie!” Derrick’s heart raced as she slammed against the boulder. For a second, she lay so still, he thought she’d passed out. His foot skidded on the ledge, sending rocks crumbling down, and he barely stopped himself from toppling down the hill himself.
Ellie lifted her head slightly, yelling for him to go after the man. He sprinted up the next hill, pushing through weeds and brush, shoving tree branches aside as he scanned the woods for the shooter. A shift of the bushes to the right caught his eye, and he veered around a cluster of rocks. Behind him, the sound of vultures hissing and grunting filled the silence.
Sweat trickled down his neck as he ran, his gun at the ready as he examined the landscape. His boots pounded the foliage, snapping twigs and sticks, the soggy ground near the creek sucking at his feet like quicksand.
Before he could land a clean shot, another bullet pinged toward him. He ducked behind a pine, swung his gun up and fired at the shooter. Chasing the shadowy figure, he maneuvered from one tree to the next until he reached the crest. A trail led to the left.
Suddenly the sound of a motor firing up rent the air, and he rushed toward the source.
It was an ATV. Dammit. Although the NPS protected the wilderness and vehicles were illegal on the trail, some sections were so deserted that people used them anyway.
Darting ahead, he aimed his gun, but another bullet narrowly missed his cheek, thudding into a tree trunk next to him and sending wood splinters into his face. He kept moving.
Just as he reached the clearing, the ATV sped into the dense woods ahead. He fired another round at the shooter, but he was too far away.
A second later, he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Forty-Seven
Battling a wave of dizziness, Ellie pushed herself to a sitting position. She swiped at the blood trickling down her forehead, then wiped the residue on her pants.
Blinking to clear her vision, she inhaled several deep breaths, struggling to stand. The ground swayed, the world foggy, so she grabbed a tree limb to steady herself, then judged the distance up the hill. A steep incline, but she thought she could make it.
Pulling her gloves from her bag, she tugged them on. The first step made her ankle throb, and she realized she might have a slight sprain. Ignoring the pain, she put more weight on her left foot, snagged a hefty tree branch and used it to propel herself upwards.
One foot at a time, one more… another… perspiration beaded on her skin and she heaved a breath. Her muscles protested the steep climb, but the image of the dead women played