Who knew when the rain would end or when responders would arrive? The flood could eventually submerge the rope.

On the other side, he saw Morgan and Tina waiting.

Lance began the treacherous crossing, his arms straining to pull Evan’s weight and his against the powerful current. Evan could do nothing to help. He was deadweight. Lance’s biceps burned as he hauled them through the shallower section and onto the center boulder. Evan landed on Lance’s legs. He could feel the boy’s body shaking with pain, but he didn’t cry out. Lance paused to breathe. His arms felt rubbery from the exertion and cold water.

“You all right?” Lance shouted in Evan’s ear.

“Yes.” The boy’s words trembled. His lips were blue, and the fever flush had drained from his face. He needed a hospital—quickly. He was going to end up with hypothermia on top of an infected wound.

Lance met Morgan’s gaze across the twenty-five feet of rough water that separated them. Almost there. But the water was deeper and the current stronger in the next section. He would need help pulling Evan across.

He cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, “I’m going to throw you the rope.”

Morgan moved to the bank, ready and waiting. Lance uncoiled the second half of the harness rope. He dug his flashlight out of the cargo pocket of his pants and tied the wrist strap to the rope. Then he let out some line and began circling the flashlight over his head, letting out the rope as the circle widened. When he let go, the flashlight soared across the water, but fell a few feet short of the bank.

Lance hauled it in and moved a few feet into the water. Bracing a foot against a boulder, he tried again. The flashlight soared, struck the bank, and bounced off. Morgan dove on it, snatching it from the shallow water at the river’s edge. She held the end and backed up to take up the tension in the line. Tina joined her, clearly waiting for a few more feet of rope so that she could get hold of it.

Lance summoned his strength. “Let’s go,” he shouted to the boy.

Evan curled around himself as they moved back into the water. Lance pulled them both along the line. The force of the water made him struggle for every inch. Twenty feet.

Come on. Pull harder.

Lance gritted his teeth against his aching arms. He pushed off a rock with a foot, using his legs to gain another foot on the rope.

Fifteen feet.

Almost.

On the bank, Morgan and Tina leaned into the effort. Using their legs to pull, they inched backward.

Something crashed upriver. Lance’s head swiveled around. A small tree shot toward them, riding on the swift water. He grabbed Evan and pulled him toward the shore. The tree struck the guideline on the cave end. The rope snapped. The release of tension sent Lance and Evan flailing into the current. Lance hung on to the rope. But the nylon was slippery and his strength was flagging.

They dangled in the current. Lance kicked, but he couldn’t get his feet back under his body. He could barely hold on.

On the bank, Tina and Morgan strained, but the combined weight of the men and the strength of the river was working against them. They were not physically strong enough.

The yellow paracord was the only thing keeping them from being washed away.

Chapter Thirty-Five

In the darkness of the trunk, Sharp felt the car moving and the body next to him trembling.

“Olivia?” Sharp said softly.

Her body jerked, then stilled. “Lincoln?” Her voice shook.

He could hear her teeth rattling.

“Are you all right?”

“Physically, yes.” But her body trembled hard.

Sharp could sense a big fat but on its way. He began feeling around for something he could use to cut their zip ties. He and Lance sometimes practiced breaking them, but he had no room to maneuver.

Her breathing came hard and fast. “I’m claustrophobic. I have to admit, I’m freaking out right now.”

“Is your head covered?” Sharp tugged at his hood. It was secured around his neck with a thin piece of nylon. He had to work at the knot for a few minutes, but he eventually loosened it. He pulled the hood off. The trunk was dark and the air stale, but he could breathe a little better.

“Yes.” Her tone rose, as if she were going to cry. The vulnerability in her voice was unexpected. “I can’t get it off. It’s getting tighter.”

The fabric over Sharp’s head had been stifling. He couldn’t imagine how Olivia felt.

“Let me try.” He reached for her head, but his hands tangled in her masses of thick hair. He brushed it aside and found the nylon cord with his fingers. She’d pulled at it, tightening the knot.

He worked at the knot until it loosened. Then he eased the hood off her head. “There.”

Her gulps for air were audible. “Thank you.”

“I can give you more room too.” Sharp held his hands tight against his chest. There seemed to be an inch or two of space behind him.

The trunk was large as trunks went, but it was still a tight squeeze. Sharp wriggled backward. His legs were bent, and his body was curled into a C. But he managed to ease out from under her. She slid to the carpet. “Is that better?”

She was smaller and fit into the curve of his body. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“Keep—”

“Do not tell me to keep calm.”

“I won’t.” Sharp would rather her temper flare than her fear. “I was going to say Try and keep your breathing slow and even. Close your eyes.”

“I can’t breathe at all.” She choked. “There’s no air in here.”

“Trunks aren’t completely airtight. If we control our breathing, we’ll be fine.” For a while. Sharp kept that last part to himself.

“Do you see a trunk release lever?” he asked.

“No,” she answered.

Sharp wasn’t surprised. Men who transported bodies in trunks no doubt made alterations to suit their needs, like removing the emergency trunk release.

The car hit a bump, and they both bounced. His body position was awkward. His shoulder was pressed into the floor by his body weight. Pain sang from his wrist to his shoulder. If they were kept in the trunk for a while, his whole arm would be numb.

He was unarmed. He didn’t have his cell phone. And he had no freaking idea where they were going. He didn’t even know the lay of the land to guess. What was he going to do when the car stopped?

He needed to free his hands. He went back to searching the carpet with his fingers. He needed a nail or a paper clip.

Would the two thugs drag them out of the car to shoot them? Probably. They wouldn’t want to get blood in the trunk. Sharp would have to assess the situation as it happened.

But there was no point thinking of that right now.

Olivia trembled against him. Her breaths hitched.

“Breathe with me. In . . .” Sharp inhaled loudly, then blew out the air in two long slow words. “And out.”

Olivia mimicked him. Even in the dark, cramped space, Sharp could feel the tension radiating from her and respected her herculean effort to keep her shit together.

“Again.” He repeated the breaths, this time counting to four on the inhale and again on the exhale. They got a rhythm going, and Sharp turned his attention to listening. The road noise under the car’s tires sounded like a paved surface, and the car had picked up speed. They were on a highway or empty rural road. He listened harder, but heard no traffic other than the vehicle they were in.

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “This was not how this was supposed to go.”

“I know.”

The car came to a stop, paused for a few heartbeats, then started up again. Sharp rolled a little as the vehicle made a turn. His weight hit the wallet in his back pocket. His lockpick was in his wallet. He could use the pick to open their zip ties. He tried to get his hands around his body to reach, but he wasn’t flexible enough.

“Are your hands bound in front of you or behind your back?” Sharp asked.

“In front,” she said.

“I have a tool in my wallet I might be able to use to spring these zip ties. My wallet is in my back pocket, but my hands are bound in front of my body. Do you think you can somehow get it out? We’ll both have to roll over.”

“I’m small. I can do it.”

“I’ll give you as much room as I can.” Sharp flattened himself against the back of the trunk.

“Here goes.” Olivia began to squirm. Thankfully, criminals preferred vehicles with large trunks. “Can you slide up a bit?”

Sharp was game. Any action was better than simply waiting for their fate as if it were inevitable. He mapped out the trunk space in his head. Sharp began to inch along the carpet.

Olivia continued to move. Some part of her jammed Sharp in the groin. If he hadn’t been pinned, the pain would have doubled him over.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s OK,” he hissed and breathed. It had been a light blow, and the pain ebbed quickly.

“I’m over,” she breathed. Her hands grasped his.

He gave hers a return squeeze. “We can do this.”

“OK. I’m wiggling backward.” She shifted away from him.

He released her hands, then started to move. He was taller and could move only an inch or so at a time. But eventually, he was facing the back of the trunk.

He felt fingers in his pocket and his wallet slid out. A few totally inappropriate thoughts skittered through his mind.

You’re an idiot.

“I have it.” Olivia sounded triumphant. “I’ll drop it in front of you?”

“Yes.”

“Then how will you open the ties?”

Sharp snorted. Without being able to see, it wouldn’t be easy. “It might take a while.”

“If you roll back over, I could do it for you.”

“That makes sense.” Sharp went through the reverse motions of turning onto his other side. He was out of breath and sweating by the time he faced her. Their legs were tangled, and he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. He slid the pick from his wallet and pushed it into her fingers. “You need to work the pick between the locking mechanism and the teeth.”