Chapter 58

ERIC

For a split second, I stared in disbelief at the crumpled body of Jaydon Chapman. Blood pooled like thick, red syrup beneath his back, slowly oozing across the forest floor. Using my foot, I swept Chapman's gun away and felt for a pulse. Nothing.

Russell Jameson stepped out of the trees, returning his gun to its holster. "Are you all right?"

I didn't have time to think about what just happened. I ignored Russell's question. There would be plenty of meetings to go over everything.

"Riley?" I yelled. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

I rushed toward the twisted treehouse. "Riley?" My voice filled the forest with desperation bordering on panic. In the background, I heard Russell call for the paramedics and a ladder. But I needed help now, not in ten or fifteen minutes.

More police arrived.

I circled the trees, looking for the best handholds I could find. None of them were perfect, but one of them would do.

Russell stood beside me. "I'll cup my hands and hoist you up. You should be able to reach the first branch."

I didn't hesitate. When Russell was ready, I leaped into his linked hands and grabbed for the branch above my head. As soon as my hands connected with the rough wood, I pulled myself higher. Once I was over the third branch, the climbing became easier.

"Watch the next branch," Russell yelled from the ground. "It doesn't look as sturdy as the others."

I pulled hard on the branch. It swayed under my weight.

I studied the tree. The point where all four trees converged was at least twelve feet away. I wouldn't get there using this side of the tree. Holding the trunk for support, I turned my back on the branch and lunged for another one. Time passed in a blur. I moved on autopilot, reaching the bough of the tree out of breath and worried about Riley.

When I saw him, my legs gave way. His face was a bruised and bloody mess, and the makeshift bandages on his arm and leg were soaked with blood. His eyes were closed, and it didn't look like he was breathing.

With tears in my eyes, I carefully rolled him onto his back and checked for a pulse. "He's unconscious but alive," I choked out.

"The fire department's nearly here," Russell yelled back. "Is there a ladder somewhere?"

I wiped my face and searched the narrow platform. When I saw the rope ladder hidden in some branches, I caught my breath. We must be more than forty feet in the air. If one of the moss-covered rungs had broken, Riley would have plunged to the ground.

"I'm throwing it down, but it doesn't look safe."

"You're not kidding," came Russell's dry reply a few seconds later. "We'll rig some ropes together and use a stretcher to get Riley down. Hold tight. The fire crew has arrived."

I turned to Riley, cupping the side of his face with my hand. "You're safe now. We'll take you to the hospital, and before you know it, you'll be walking Sherlock around the lake."

I wanted his eyes to open, to hear Riley's voice tell me everything would be okay. But his lids remained closed, and his breathing was slow and shallow.

With trembling fingers, I pushed his hair away from his face and rechecked his pulse.

Fear threatened to pull me under a heavy black cloud. After today, I didn't know if our lives would ever be the same again.