"Doug!" I yelled, powering toward him with strong, wide strokes. I caught his arm just as he sank again, but he lunged at my neck like a damn octopus and nearly took us both under.
"Let go and float, ya stupid bastard!" I snarled.
"I can't," he sobbed. His chin quivered, and tears streaked his filthy face.
Bloody hell.
Shoving him in front of me, I flipped him onto his back, and fighting against the current to keep his head above water, I dragged his dead weight across the flooded creek toward Charlie.
The tree came up fast. I braced for impact and slammed into the trunk back-first. Pain shot through my ribs, but I held on.
With a grunt, I hauled Doug forward. "Grab the tree."
Doug gagged, choked, and flopped over the branch, clinging to it with his arms and legs as if he was wrestling a crocodile.
Grabbing a branch of my own to hang onto, I glanced at Charlie. “You good?”
She nodded, breathless. "Who are you?” She gasped.
“Mitch. Mitch Branson.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Her soaked shirt clung to her chest as it rose and fell with every gasping breath. She was damn brave, I’d give her that. Mud streaked her cheeks. Her hair was a mess. She looked like hell. Yet she was still stunning.
I dragged my gaze away before it stuck there.
The ravine rose around us, and the sheer red canyon walls were slick with torrential rain. No way in hell were we climbing out of here. We’re gonna need help.
I checked my pocket. Son of a bitch. The satellite phone was gone.
The water was rising damn fast. We had to get to higher ground.
I scanned the slope, searching for a way out, and spotted a dark hole in the rock about ten feet up. A cave.
"See that?" I jerked my chin toward the cavity. "We need to get up there before this river swallows us."
Charlie shielded her eyes from the downpour and followed my gaze. "Okay." She nodded.
"Doug,” I yelled over the torrent. “You ready to go?"
"Go? Go where?" Doug's eyes bulged like a spooked bullock.
"To that cave up there." I pointed.
Doug groaned. "Why can't we stay here? What if we fall?"
Charlie rolled her eyes so hard I nearly laughed. "The river's rising, that's why. Let's go."
She swung her leg off the log and moved toward the riverbank, giving me a view of her long legs. Lean, strong, mighty nice to look at.
Hot damn, she’s fit.
"Doug. Move," I growled.
His gaze bounced from me to Charlie, to the cliff, and he went so pale I thought he was going to puke. He didn't move from the branch he was clinging to.
Charlie, though, was shuffling along the branch toward the slippery wall.
As much as I would have preferred to follow her sexy ass up the rocky ravine, I took the lead in case she needed a hand. Torrential rain speared into our backs, and the thunder cracking overhead made the rocks beneath my hands shake. We scrambled up the muddy rockface on our hands and knees, slipping and sliding as we dragged our bodies upward. Doug half-crawled, half-scrambled, non-stop bitching.