“Thomas, you didn’t point out the slide to him?” Brynn was furious.
Thomas shrugged. “I figured he’d see it. Wasn’t a bad one. I knew if he fell, he wouldn’t go far.”
“What?” Brynn gasped as the other two men muttered and glared at Thomas.
“He needs to learn to watch out for himself.” His face didn’t show it, but Alex heard the smugness in Thomas’s tone.
With a superhuman effort, Alex pulled the rest of his body from the mud with a squishing, sucking sound. He stared at his pants. How was he supposed to get the crap off? He brushed a hand at the stuff. Not just mud, sticky mud.
He hated nature.
“Here.” Ryan had stepped down the embankment and held out a hand. His other hand was securely attached to the limb of a tree behind him. “Grab on.”
Alex wanted to tell him to go to hell, but grabbed his hand.
With some effort, the two of them got back up to the trail. Brynn scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed at Alex’s pants with it. The mud washed off with the ice crystals. He batted her hand away.
“I’ll do it,” he said. She said nothing as she stepped back, but he saw brief annoyance flash in her eyes. “Thanks,” Alex muttered. He glanced at Thomas. Complete innocence gazed back. He refocused on his pants.
“Jesus Christ, Thomas. What if he’d broken an arm or leg?” Brynn was angry. “You’d be the one hauling his butt back to camp.”
“Todoroff, use some common sense!” Jim crossed his arms on his chest and eyed the silent man. “Kinton doesn’t know what to look for out here.”
“Forget it,” Alex snapped. He didn’t want people talking about him like he was a helpless wimp. Brynn trying to clean off his pants was bad enough. “Let’s just go.” He pulled off his expensive gloves and glared at the mud, wondering if he should use some of his drinking water to clean them up. He liked his gloves. That morning he’d choked when he saw the price tag, but now he understood the value of good gear in this freezing hell.
The others started up the path. Alex glanced up to find Thomas waiting for him, a bottle of water in his hand. He held it out to Alex. “Mud should rinse off. They’re waterproof.”
“I know,” Alex mumbled. He took the bottle, feeling no guilt for using Thomas’s drinking water as he rinsed his gloves.
He mentally cursed at his shaking hands. Alex turned slightly, moving his hands from Thomas’s view. He used more water than was necessary and handed the bottle back. Thomas silently tucked it in his pack and moved out after the others. Alex followed.
Alex figured that was as much of an apology as he’d get. Considering the source, it wasn’t a bad one.
Brynn heard the river before anyone else. No one else had had his ears pricked for the last two hours, waiting for the sounds of white water. Her boots moved one in front of the other. Step after step. It’d been quiet and tense since Alex slid down the embankment. She didn’t like the tension among the men, but she’d learned that getting them to talk it out wasn’t a solution. These men did things their own way. They glared, mashed their lips together, and shot dirty looks without using a word. Eventually it’d be over. She glanced at the wide shoulders trudging in front of her. Even from the back, Alex looked annoyed.
Thomas had been out of line, unfairly testing Alex like that.
She’d wanted to tell him so, but she knew it’d do no good. He’d simply tune her out. She, Ryan, Thomas, and Jim had done at least a dozen missions together in the past three years. They worked well together. No major personality clashes. Everyone respected each other’s expertise. Jim was leader, Ryan was navigation, she was medical, and Thomas was… well, everything else. He knew stuff from mountain climbing to extreme survival skills. He could have had his own TV show on the Discovery channel if not for his glaring lack of personality.
Ryan turned and looked past Alex to meet Brynn’s eyes, his gaze dead serious. He’d heard the water. She gave him a half smile, her heart in her throat. She wouldn’t reveal the terror pounding through her chest.
They’d been descending for thirty minutes. The trail was slick and covered with broken boughs from the last windstorm. At least there was a trail. Once they crossed the river, they’d leave the trail and head north, breaking their own path.
She just had to get across the river.
Then she’d be fine until the next water crossing.
The snow paused and Brynn pushed off her hood, feeling the icy breeze nip at her neck. The sky was still dark gray. She tipped back her head, inhaled the fresh air, and watched the wind push the layers of multicolored clouds across the bleak sky. They ranged from pure white to slate gray to a deep, dark gray that was heavy with snow. She estimated ten minutes before the next cloud ruptured. For the moment, there were no towering firs blocking the sky, and the forest released its hold on the group for a few seconds.
Kiana shot out of the brush to her right and fell in beside Brynn, matching her quick doggy pace to Brynn’s steps. She whined softly and brushed her muzzle against Brynn’s leg. Surprised, Brynn glanced down and met sympathetic, devoted blue eyes.
Did the dog know?
Throat tightening, she ran a hand over Kiana’s furry ears, tugging at them lightly.
“Good dog,” she whispered.
“Water ahead,” Jim spoke behind her, his voice flat.
She tossed him a nod and smile over her shoulder, rubbing at Kiana’s back.