On Thin Ice by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page B

trained on the back of their fearless leader, careful not to careen into him again. It wouldn’t do any good to complain – his feet and legs would be hurting too, after all that time in captivity. He’d been just as hungry as she’d been when he’d shared his last candy bar. Which, in retrospect wasn’t nearly as noble a gesture as it had seemed, since he’d been planning on getting out of there and getting any number of Santander bars in the near future.
    The German and the American weren’t as circumspect. Hans Froelich complained vociferously about her presence, about the roughness of the trail, and the teenager – Dylan – kept whining about being hungry. There was an odd, jittery intensity to him that somehow reminded her of Carlos and his buddy, and she found it unnerving, but she said nothing, just put one foot in front of the other. MacGowan had told him to keep his hands off her, and Beth had every faith in him, though she wasn’t quite sure why. He’d protect her, at least from the worst predators of the night. She would have said a teenager was hardly that dangerous, but then she remembered Carlos.
    She heard the noise first, a muffled roar that could have been a convoy of trucks, or a helicopter, rescue or recapture, but MacGowan ignored it. She tried to do the same, but it was slowly growing light, and if the Guiding Light were imminent, she was heading into the bushes. “What’s that noise?” she said finally in as soft a voice as she could manage.
    There was no response, and she wondered whether he’d heard her. She started to ask again when he spoke. “It’s a waterfall. We’re stopping there for a few hours. There’s less coverage further down, and we’re better off travelling at night.”
    “That’s where we’re stopping?” Froelich demanded, pushing past her.
    The man turned to look at him. “Why the fuck do you care so much about where we’re stopping, Hans? You expecting company?”
    In the early morning light she could see the German’s already high color deepen. “I’m expecting you to get me out of here as soon as possible, given the money I’m paying you.”
    “And I’ll do exactly that,” he said in a voice filled with silken menace, “as long as you shut the fuck up and do exactly as I say. Which means sleeping during the day and travelling at night, and today we’re sleeping by the waterfall.”
    Froelich made an ugly noise and started after him, but MacGowan stopped again. “You’re behind the little lady.”
    Froelich started to complain, but something in MacGowan’s face made him stop, and he fell back behind Beth, muttering under his breath in German.
    They kept walking, the sound of the waterfall growing louder, the night-dark sky growing lighter. At one point Beth realized she’d been crying, silently, out of sheer misery, and she made herself stop. Tears were useless, a waste of time. She was a survivor, and she wasn’t in any worse shape than if she’d gone on an Outward Bound course. She would survive.
    The next time he stopped she wasn’t as alert, and she bumped into him. He gave her a look, and she stepped back hastily, unaccountably nervous. Beneath his occasional charm he had the same feral intensity of some of the men who’d taken her, that raw edge of lawlessness that threatened the very tenets of civilization. Good, she thought. A civilized man wouldn’t keep her alive.
    “We’re here,” he said briefly. “The water’s good. Get yourself something to drink, and I’ll see what’s around that we can eat. It’s not going to taste good but at least it won’t kill us, and it’ll give us enough fuel to keep going another night. In the meantime, find someplace to sleep. Alone.”
    “MacGowan, man, you’re no fun,” the grubby teenager said, moving off into the thick brush.
    “Not supposed to be,” MacGowan said. “As for you, sweetheart, I’d suggest you keep your sweet little tail away from all of us. I don’t fancy breaking