Rescue Me(48)
A rope ran from under the van and disappeared into the rock face behind the van, affixed by a rather large cam anchor.
Ingenious but precarious. Especially since ice and frost layered everything—a thin skin of danger.
Riley had backed up to the cliff wall and was crouching down, his arms folded over him. “I’m staying right here. Try and move me.”
Sam stood at the end of the van, on the passenger side. Gave her a frown and a shake of his head as she got out. But he didn’t know these guys like she did.
“Riley. Listen. It’s cold out here—”
“I don’t care. I’m not staying one more second in that van.”
By the look in his eyes, she believed him. She didn’t blame him, really. She glanced at Sam; his jaw was tight, as if he just might throw Riley over his shoulder and manhandle him back into the van.
Dawson wasn’t helping. He stood right next to the edge. She noticed how Sam kept eyeing him, his footing on the rocks.
“Daws, get in the van,” she said softly. “Please.”
Dawson glanced at Sam, back to her. Shook his head, a quickness in it that suggested he was simply trying out rebellion for size.
“Dawson—”
“Willow.” Sam reached out and caught her arm. “C’mere.”
And it wasn’t the soft, gentle “c’mere” from last night, but one that issued from a clenched jaw of frustration.
She stepped up to him.
“I think they might be right. We don’t know how long this van is going to stay put—maybe we get everyone out and then figure out how to get up the cliff.”
She examined the cliff overhead. It was slick with ice and projecting out like an overhang, and she couldn’t spot one decent handhold. “Can you climb that?”
He drew in a breath, and she knew that was the wrong question. Better was, “Are you willing to die trying?”
To which, in her gut, she knew the answer was yes.
And that’s when the van jerked.
“Hey!” Sam said, looking inside. Willow spied Josh headed to the back. The displacement of his weight, however meager on the passenger side, had redistributed the weight.
The rope jerked.
“Josh, stay put!” Sam yelled, but the youth pastor kept coming.
In his widened, red eyes, Willow saw his youth. He was barely older than Quinn or Gus, and in this moment showed his fear as he went over the seat and out into the crisp air.
She had to give him props, however, for standing up to Sam, who looked like he wanted to turn him to ash with his glare.
“I can’t stay in there—none of us can.”
“That’s not a choice now,” Sam said, glancing at the anchor and then to Willow. “I’ll get Vi.”
“No, I’m lighter. You stay here, get the kids out the back. Gus and I will hand her to you.”
Then, because she knew he’d put up a fight, she simply climbed back in, over the seat. Zena hopped out in Willow’s wake.
The van shook as the weight again redistributed.
“Hurry up!” Sam yelled.
Vi had sat up and moved her foot off the bench. Willow knelt in front of her as Maggy climbed out.
“Gus, let’s do this together.”
Gus nodded and leaned down, grabbing Vi under her arms. “Sorry, Vi.”
Big teddy bear of a guy, he winced as Vi cried out. But Willow had her leg, trying to immobilize her ankle as she worked her backward. Gus stepped over the backseat, Vi cradled in his big arms.
“Easy,” Sam said.
Gus stepped down, and Vi moaned as Willow directed her foot over the backseat.
She didn’t know how it happened—maybe Gus lost his footing on the icy ledge. Maybe she accidentally bumped Vi’s leg, making her jerk and twist in Gus’s arm. Suddenly Gus was tripping back and Vi was screaming, grabbing at the van.
She tore away from Willow’s grip.
The force of it toppled Willow back. She slammed against the front passenger seat. Pain exploded in her shoulder, and she fell to the floor.
“Willow!”
She lay dazed for a long moment before she climbed to her feet.
When she looked up, she spotted Vi clinging to Sam, caught in his embrace. Of course.
The van started to roll, easing toward the edge.
“Willow—get out!”
Her gaze landed on the emergency pack.
Vi—maybe all of them—would need that. Willow scrabbled toward it, hooked her hand on the strap, and hauled it up, groaning.
“Hurry!” Sam stood at the door. Beside him, Quinn had ahold of the bumper as the van slid along the icy surface.
The anchor ground against the rock.
“C’mon!” Sam lunged toward her, and it only made the van jerk.
The anchor ripped from the icy stone.
“Willow!”