[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

the fog, taking chunks out over the roiling sea.
 Matt! Jackson s disembodied voice called to him from deep inside the fog, somewhere ahead of him.
 She s gone over the cliff. She s not in the water, but she s not going to be able to last much longer.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Search along the edges. The voice was muffled and distorted by the fog.
 Watch yourself, Jackson, the cliff is crumbling in places, Matt cautioned. He didn t ask how Jackson
knew Elle had gone over. Hell, he was beginning to believe he was the only person in the world without
some kind of psychic talent.  Dammit, dammit, dammit. He couldn t return to Kate and tell her Elle was
dead, that they d been too late. He d never be able to face her sorrow.
Matt inched toward the cliff, testing the ground every step of the way, making certain it would hold his
weight.  Elle! He shouted her name, heard Jackson, then Jonas echo his call. The ocean answered with
another greedy roar, lifting higher, seeking prey.  Dammit, Elle, answer me. He felt desperation. Rage.
Fear for Elle was beginning to swirl in the pit of his stomach. He detested inaction. He was a man who
took charge, got the job done. He could have endless patience when needed, but he had to know what
he was doing.
It seemed a hundred years until Jackson called out.  Found! I ll keep calling out so you both can get a
direction. She s not going to be able to hang on, so I m going down after her. I ve tied off a safety rope.
Even with the fog distorting the voice, Matt got a sense of Jackson s direction and moved toward him.
Jackson s voice was far more distant the second time he called out, and Matt knew he d gone over the
side of the cliff to try to get to Elle before she plunged into the sea. He d been in combat with Jackson,
had served on many covert missions with him. He wasn t a man to rush headlong into anything. If he was
already going over the cliff to get to Elle, she needed the help. He was counting on Jonas and Matt to
rescue them both. He knew they d come for him.
Matt felt the crushed grass with his hand and flattened his body, belly down, reaching along the
crumbling edge of the cliff until he found the rope. Jackson had tied off the end, using an old fence post.
Matt sucked in his breath. The fence post was rotted and already coming out of the ground.  I m tying
off again, Jackson, give me a minute, Matt called down to him. He peered over the cliff.
Jackson was climbing down almost blind, feeling with his hands and toes for a grip. Elle lay sprawled out
on a small ledge, clinging to a flimsy tree. He caught only glimpses of her as the fog was pushed out
toward the sea. The heavy mist crawled down below the cliff line, hovering stubbornly in the more
protected pocket to obscure the vision of the rescuers.
 Pass the rope back to me, Jonas said, coming up behind Matt.
Matt did so immediately, not taking his eyes from the scene unfolding below him. The fog was thick and
churning, but the wind kept attacking it, driving it out in feathery clumps. It was the only thing that
provided him with glimpses of the action. Jackson made his way, with painstaking care, down the sheer
side of the cliff. Jonas tied off the rope to a much more secure anchor behind them, where Matt couldn t
see.
 We re ready up here, Jackson, say the word, Matt called when Jonas signaled him the rope was safe
to use.  Elle, I m not hearing anything from you. He hadn t. Not a moan, not a call for help. It was
alarming. He thought he could see her actively holding on to the small tree growing out of the side of the
cliff, but the more he tried to pierce the veil of the fog, the more he was certain Elle wasn t moving.
As Jackson reached her, Matt held his breath, waiting. Afraid to hear, afraid not to hear. His heart beat
loudly over the sound of the sea.
 She s alive, Jackson called up.  She has a nasty bump on the head, and she s bruised from head to
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
toe, but she s alive.
Matt leaned farther over the cliff to hear the conversation below him. Jackson s voice drifted up to him.
 Lie still, let me examine you for broken bones. I m Jackson Deveau, the deputy sheriff.
 This ledge is crumbling. Elle s voice trembled.  Someone pushed me. I didn t hear them, but they
pushed me. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]