Home > The Doomsday Key (Sigma Force #6)(55)

The Doomsday Key (Sigma Force #6)(55)
Author: James Rollins

They had to keep moving. The longer they waited, the worse their circumstances. They needed to reach the hills.

“C’mon, you old cur,” Wallace urged his dog in a gentle admonishment. “You can do it, Rufus. C’mon, boy. Find us a way home.”

The dog stared up at his master, then down at the gully. With a tremble, he sat down. He continued to shake, but his judgment was firm. There was no safe way forward.

Gray slid out of his saddle and passed his reins to Seichan. “Stay here.”

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked.

Gray crossed to a mossy stone beside their trail. He had to know for sure. Bending at the knees, he hauled the rock free and lumbered to the edge of the snowy riverbed. With a swing of his arms, he heaved the stone in a low arc over the bank. It landed in the middle of the gully—and crashed through to the fiery bog below. Flames spat up. Snow melted around the edges and boiled back up with a hiss of steam.

The hole immediately grew larger, sending out blazing tendrils. Other spots erupted along the channel. Tossing the boulder had been like throwing a stone in a pond. Fiery ripples spread outward in a cascading effect as fresh oxygen reached the buried inferno. Flames spat, and more steam rose. It spread outward, following the course of the old riverbed.

“You had to do that,” Kowalski said. “Couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

Gray ignored him and stepped to another stone. He dragged it up, and using his entire body, he swung and tossed the rock to the other bank. It was less than eight yards across. The stone struck the far bank and landed with a dull thud. It sat imbedded in turf and snow.

“It’s still solid over there. If we can reach the other side…” Gray turned to Wallace. “How good are these Fell Ponies at jumping?”

The professor eyed the fiery course. “They’re good,” he said hesitantly. “But that’s still a bloody long leap.”

Kowalski added his assessment. “Not like we have much choice.”

Another tree crashed deeper in the woods behind them.

“Aye, that’s true,” Wallace said.

“I’ll go first.” Gray hurried back to his mount. He raised an arm toward Seichan to help her down.

“I’m going with you,” she said.

“No. Our weight will only make it harder to—”

“Do you see any free horses running around here?” Seichan snapped back, cutting him off. “I have to ride double with someone. And your stallion’s the biggest.”

Gray realized she was right.

He pulled up into the saddle. The others cleared to the side as he backed the horse a good distance away from the bank.

“Hold tight,” Gray said.

She obeyed, hugging her arms and pressing her cheek against his back. “Go,” she whispered.

Tilting forward in the saddle, he kicked back and gave the reins a crack. The stallion, already bunched, as if knowing what its rider wanted, shot forward with a thunder of hooves. It accelerated into a full gallop within only a few strides.

Gray felt the power of the stallion through the saddle. Its heaving breath streamed white behind them. Its neck stretched as it gained even more speed—then hit the bank.

With a surge of muscle, it leaped high. Gray went weightless, lifting from the saddle with Seichan strapped tightly to him. They crested the fires. He felt the wash of heat from below.

Then they struck the far bank.

Gray slammed back into the saddle, catching his weight with both stirrup and skill. The stallion trotted a few paces to wean away momentum. Gray pulled on the reins and quickly turned his mount.

Seichan still clung hard against him.

He returned to the fiery riverbed and heaved out a sigh of relief. He waved an arm for the others to follow, not yet trusting his voice. A shudder passed through him, but Seichan’s arms held tightly.

“We made it,” she mumbled to his back.

The others quickly followed. Wallace came flying over with Rufus clutched in his lap. Gray had to give the old guy credit. He could definitely ride.

Rachel came next. She backed her horse and made a smooth run for the river. Gray might have the largest pony, but Rachel had the fastest. It hit the bank, but something went wrong.

One hoof slipped as the edge crumpled beneath it.

Gray knew immediately there was trouble. The jump was too low, the pony’s body turned to the side.

They would never make the far side.

Rachel fought to keep her seat. As the mare leaped, she immediately felt the center of gravity shift under her. She clenched her legs to keep in her saddle. She pulled the reins close to her chest and leaned hard over the saddle’s pommel.

Twisted askew, she stared straight down into the fiery heart of the wildfire. She wasn’t going to make it. The pony was already dropping. Searing heat bathed her.

She heard cries of alarm.

Then they hit the ground. The front hooves struck solid turf, reaching the far bank, but the mare’s hind end crashed into the smoldering edge of the river of fire.

The impact threw Rachel flat on her stomach atop the pony. With the wind knocked out of her, she lost the reins and her footing and slid backward toward the fire.

Beneath her, the poor mare screamed in agony and fought to kick herself free, which only stirred the flames higher.

As she slid, Rachel caught the edge of the saddle. Fire burned the soles of her boots. The bucking mare, frenzied by agony, threatened to throw her off. Worse, the mare began to roll.

“Hold on!” a voice screamed.

She glanced up. It was Seichan. The woman dove forward and grabbed the mare’s lead. Gray came up on the other side and tried to get hold of the halter’s crownpiece.

Together, they fought to keep the mare from rolling.

Seichan wrapped the lead in her arms, dropped to her backside, and dug in her heels. Gray lost hold of the halter as the mare thrashed its head and screamed. He made another lunge for it.

“Just get her!” Seichan yelled as she was dragged toward the river herself.

It took all of Rachel’s strength to keep her grip. She felt her legs burning, pictured her pants on fire. Then fingers clamped on her wrist. Gray was suddenly there, sprawled across the mare’s withers. He yanked her forward with one arm, his other braced on the saddle’s pommel. He hauled her up to his chest, his face red and strained.

“Climb over me!” he ordered her, staring straight at her.

The iron resolve of those steel-blue eyes hardened through her.

Gasping, she reached up and clutched a fistful of his coat. She pulled herself atop him, reached to his belt with her other hand, and crawled over him. At last she cleared the river’s edge and rolled off him to land on her hands and knees in the snow.

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