A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

PUNISHMENT

Far below, through the branches of trees sliding by him, he caught a glimpse of the state road that snaked around the mountain, but it was a straight drop-off from here to there, a nearly vertical descent made even more treacherous by the trees and giant snow-covered boulders that rose up from the mountain. If he took that route, he might make better time for a few seconds down the mountain, but there was no chance he'd ever reach the highway in one piece. Besides, before he could seriously consider going down the face of the mountain, he first had to use the bridge to get across that swollen stream. He tried to remember where the bridge was. It seemed to him that it should be around the next sharp bend in the road, but it was hard to gauge anything when the "road" had been reduced to a narrow path between snow drifts.

It occurred to him that what he probably ought to do was get off the snowmobile and do something to generate some body heat, like running in place or something like that. On the other hand, he was afraid to take the time to do that. If the snow had already filled in his tracks from the garage to the woods by the time Zayn realized he was gone, he'd automatically assume Harrry was using the road and he'd overtake him much sooner and more easily than if he tried to follow Harry circuitous trail through the woods. Harry had deliberately been avoiding looking over her shoulder because he was afraid to take his eyes off the path and risk losing control of the unfamiliar vehicle again, but now that he realized everything hinged on how fast the snow was filling in his tracks, he couldn't resist. He stole a swift look over his shoulder and choked back a scream. Above and still well behind him, a snowmobile was flying out of the woods and angling down toward the road, its rider crouched low over the front—an ominous specter of doom, swerving around boulders and trees with what appeared to be effortless skill.

Terror and rage overrode everything, even the numbing cold, and sent adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins. Praying Zayn hadn't yet spotted him through the dense trees that lined both sides of the narrow road, he looked around for a place to veer off and try to hide so that Zayn would overshoot him. Up ahead, around the next switchback, he glimpsed a narrow plateau, but the road there was edged with boulders to stop cars from plunging over the side. Somehow, he had to angle between the boulders and slow the snowmobile down before it reached the edge of the plateau, then find a hiding place down there among the trees, whose tops rose above the left side of the road. With no time to think of another plan, Harry aimed the snowmobile for a spot between two shoulder-high boulders, then he clamped down on the brakes as he shot over the edge of the mountain.

The plateau was much narrower than it had seemed, and for terrifying seconds, he was airborne, soaring toward the tops of a thick stand of pine trees, then the nose of the snowmobile dived to earth like an out-of-control rocket, heading straight for a clump of trees and, a few feet beyond them, the creek. Screaming, Harry felt gravity tearing the snowmobile out from under him just as the middle branches of a pine tree rose up in front of him, opening their arms to him. The snowmobile plunged down the embankment, rolling over itself, sliding across the ice that had formed near the bank, and finally coming to a stop on its side, its handlebars hanging over the rushing water, its skis snagged in the branches of a partially submerged aspen.

Dazed with relief and a little disoriented, Harry lay beside the pine that had broken his fall and he watched a snowmobile shoot over the edge of the embankment. In pursuit of him... Forcing him body to react, he rolled over, staggered to his knees, and scrambled under the tree. The skis on Zayn's snowmobile were air-bound when they lashed past Harry's hiding place, and he crawled further back beneath the branches, but he needn't have bothered, because Zayn never even glanced in his direction. He'd spotted Harry's snowmobile overturned on the ice and beginning to be tugged into the stream's rushing water, and all of his attention was focused on that.

Unable to completely assimilate what was happening or accept his own good fortune, he watched Zayn leap off his snowmobile before it came to a stop and run toward the stream. "HARRY!" he shouted over and over again into the howling wind, and to his utter disbelief, he started walking out across the thin ice. Obviously, Zayn thought he'd fallen through it, and just as obviously, he should have been glad that Harry was no longer a complication with which he had to contend.

Harry assumed he merely intended to try to recover his snowmobile, and his gaze flew to the snowmobile he'd abandoned. It was now much closer to him than to Zayn; he could get to it long before Zayn could and, unless he could drag Harry's snowmobile to safety, he could still make good his getaway. Keeping his gaze glued to Zayn's back, he crawled out from under the tree, straightened, and took a stealthy step away from his hiding place and then another and another, intending to sidle from tree to tree.

"HARRY, ANSWER ME, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" Zayn shouted, stripping off his jacket. The ice around him began to crack and the rear end of Harry's snowmobile rose in the air as the machine tumbled into the creek and vanished. Instead of trying to reach safety, Zayn grabbed a hold of the branches of the fallen aspen and to his utter disbelief, Zayn deliberately lowered himself into the icy water.

His shoulders disappeared and then his head, and Harry darted to the shelter of the next tree. He broke the surface for air, shouting Harry's name again, then he dove beneath the water, and Harry raced to the last tree. Less than three yards away from Zayn's snowmobile and absolute freedom, he stopped, his gaze riveted helplessly on the stream where Zayn had disappeared. His mind shouted that Zayn Malik was an escaped convict who had compounded his crimes by taking a hostage, and he had to leave now while he had the chance. His conscience screamed that if he left him now and took his snowmobile, he would freeze to death because he'd tried to save Harry.

Suddenly his dark head and shoulders broke the surface beside the submerged tree trunk, and a sob of relief rose in Harry's throat as he saw him haul himself up onto the ledge of ice. Dimly amazed by his sheer strength of will and body, Harry watched him brace his hands on the ice, shove himself upright, and stagger over to the jacket he'd flung off. Instead of putting it on, he sank down beside it near a snow-covered boulder next to the stream.

The internal war between Harry's mind and his heart escalated to tumultuous proportions: Zayn hadn't drowned, he was safe for the moment; if Harry was going to leave him, it had to be now, before he looked up and saw him.

Paralyzed with indecision, Harry watched him lift the jacket in his hand. The moment of foolish relief he felt at the thought that he was going to put it on became horror as Zayn did something that was the macabre opposite: He flung the jacket aside, reached up, and began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, then he leaned his head against the boulder and closed his eyes. Snow swirled around him, clinging to his wet hair and face and body while it slowly dawned on Harry that he wasn't even going to try to make it home! He obviously thought Harry had drowned trying to get away from him, and he had assigned himself the death sentence as his own punishment.