A Touch of Death Ch. 11

"I'm better than I was a minute ago," I said, forcing myself not to cry. It wasn't safe yet. We had to get out of here.

"I'm going to pull us up. Just hold on to me."

I laid a grip on him that would've made a professional wrestler proud. My boot didn't want to come loose at first but it finally popped free. It was all I could do to keep myself from wrapping my legs around him. If we made it out of here, I silently promised that he wouldn't be disappointed at all in our after dinner conversation.

Inch by inch, he pulled us back up the cliff. The only rough part of the ascent was pulling ourselves back over the lip of stone and earth. With a strain of muscle I could feel through his shirt Ty pulled us over and to safety.

I lay on my back staring at the sky and tried to say something, anything. My throat had closed and the tears came at last.

Ty held me as I sobbed from repressed terror. I knew he was going to chew my ass off sooner or later, but for the moment he just held me, caressing my head gently.

When my tears had run dry, I pulled back from him far enough to look into those dark eyes of his. "I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"Shh. Not now. You're alive and that's what's important."

I took a series of deep breaths and nodded. I tangled my fingers in his hair and crushed his mouth with mine. Hunger and need exploded to life inside me as I molded my body to his.

He seemed surprised at first, but he quickly took control and I found myself being kissed thoroughly and excellently. We pulled apart at last and stared at each other.

"That was... amazing," he said huskily. He reached between us. I thought he was undoing my pants and was about to regretfully push him away but he was undoing the metal latch that bound us together.

I slid back from him and nodded. "This conversation, as much as it interests me, has to go on hold. Stanton might be warning Wallace even now. We need to get my mom."

He nodded and helped me to my feet. At first, my legs didn't want to work but after a few steps I was able to walk without support. Ty left the rope tied to a tree and grabbed his ruck sack.

"You must've been a Boy Scout. You're always prepared."

His lips curved up. "Always. This way."

He led me back through the woods, getting me totally confused about which direction we were going. It was obvious he knew, though. He never faltered or turned around. In ten minutes we were back in the clearing.

The cabin was just as I'd seen it last. The door was still open and I couldn't hear any sign but the wind and some birds.

I started to run to the door, but Ty grabbed me.

"You can follow me in." He pulled his pistol from the small of his back and flattened both of us against the side of the cabin. He tossed a small stone inside and there was no response. As quick as a striking rattlesnake, he ducked inside. I followed as quickly as I could.

The interior of the cabin could have been a poster for minimalism. It had a bed with a ratty mattress, a rough-cut table and chair, and a Franklin stove. The air had the sharp tang of gunpowder.

Ty scanned the room from beside the door before moving deeper inside. When he got to the bedside he swore and holstered his pistol. "Shit."

I stepped behind him and saw a form laying on the floor in the shadow of the bed. The only thing I could see clearly was a blood-covered hand laying limp in the edge of the light.