Title: Missing In Action
Part: 3/?
Rating: R
Pairing: Weaver, Legapsi, Carter, Benton.
Spoilers: Season seven.
Beta Reader: Scotty Welles
Note: For those of u who don't like Hitchcock. John Robie is from the movie to Catch A Theif, staring Cary Grant and Grace Kelley. John Robie was an ex-cat burgualr known as the cat. He was also an ex french resistence member, and did time in jail.
Disclaimer: U know this song and dance. Robie belongs to Hitchcock and paramount.
Kerry came to a stop next to the river. She'd been following it
downstream all night. She knew that if she followed it far enough it
would take into one of the state parks and, hopefully, a park ranger.
The sun was just beginning to rise, telling her it was time to sleep.
It had been a hard decision, but Kerry had finally admitted to herself
that the only real advantage she had over her attacker was her time in
Africa. She knew how to move at night and how to cover her tracks.
There was no way her attacker would try to go after her at night.
Plus, with the weather, it was dangerous for her to sleep at night. The
temperature had dropped past freezing. The last thing she needed was to
get hypothermia. As it was, it had been a struggle to keep moving and
not give in to the temptation of sleep.
Glancing around, she spotted a very small, black hole under a large,
old tree. She limped over to it and bent down. It was partially hidden
by underbrush, but she could see it was just big enough for a small
human to fit into. Kerry'd often wished to be taller, but now she was
glad that wish had never been granted.
Kerry threw the parachute pack inside, glad that she'd kept it. The
parachute would prove to be one of her only means of heat.
Kim slammed the phone down trying to keep her frustration under
control. Five different airlines and not one flight leaving for British
Columbia for two days. Two days she couldn't wait. She needed to leave
immediately.
"Dr. Legaspi?"
Kim looked up from her desk to see Carter standing in the doorway. "I'm
not on..." she began tiredly. She really didn't have time for this.
"Actually, Randi says you've decide to take a vacation."
Kim eyed him warily. She knew the young man was a good person, but what
if he told Romano why she was leaving? "That's right."
"I don't suppose that you're going to Canada..." he replied, his
expression telling her it was more than an idle inquiry.
Kim glanced at him, working hard to conceal her surprise. It was like
he had read her mind. "And what if I am...?" she asked, noncommittally.
Carter leaned against the doorway. "My family owns a private airline,"
he informed her casually. "And I've been thinking I need a vacation
lately, too."
They looked into each other's eyes, and it was clear that their words
were only a cover for the real thoughts being shared.
Kim smiled at him. She liked him, liked him a lot.
Carter took the single suitcase that Kim had brought and led her
towards the small jet. They hadn't spoken much on the way and,
truthfully, he didn't know what to say to her. He knew that she had
been working with Kerry quite a bit in the last few months but that was
about all he knew.
He let her walk up the metal stairs before following her into the
plane. Her thin frame paused as she caught sight of the tall, muscular
man that was already seated. Carter was surprised when she simply sat
across from Peter with a nod.
"Why are you here?" Kim could understand John, but Peter didn't strike
her as being close to Kerry.
Peter moved his coat so Carter could sit before he answered. "I owe
her." He stood abruptly. "I'm going to go talk to the pilot."
John waited until Peter had disappeared into the cockpit before he
spoke. "He and Kerry knew each other before they were at County, but
neither of them will talk about it. From the way they act around each
other, you'd think the other doesn't exist, but that's all it is, is an
act."
The fierce loyalty that was in Peter's eyes was not the look of a
simple colleague, but Carter was right. She'd seen them work together a
few days before. They'd barely acknowledged each other, and when Kerry
spoke she only mentioned him in passing.
Kim frowned slightly as she thought about the story Kerry had been
telling the other night. "... Boyd and Peter had to..."
"They knew each other," she said aloud.
Carter gave her a puzzled look. "That's what I just said."
"No, I mean Kerry's husband. Peter knows him." How could she have
missed it? It had been right there the entire time. Kerry had been so
happy and carefree retelling that story.
Carter's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"No. It's just a guess. She was talking about Boyd and a surgeon named
Peter."
"I guess it's possible. Kerry never told me about her husband, and
Peter doesn't talk much outside of work, anyway." Carter shook his
head. "I'll ask him about it later..."
He suddenly took interest in picking invisible lint off his blue jeans.
"Dr. Legaspi..." he began.
"Carter, you're giving me a ride. I think that entitles you to call me
'Kim'."
"Okay...Kim," he started again. "If you don't mind my asking, why are
you here?"
"I'm her friend," she said carefully, revealing nothing. Jeez, first
Randi, now Carter. Kim didn't mind questioning people; after all it
was her job. You ask question, you observe their behavior, you evaluate
them. But she didn't like having it done to her; that was the fun of
her job she could act as crazy and disturbed as she wanted and then
simply say it was research. They, in turn, just had to except it and
move on.
"Kerry had...HAS a number of friends, but you don't see anyone else
here." Carter was telling the truth, at least partially. Kerry did have
a number of friends, despite what the ER staff thought; it was just
that only a small handful lived in America.
"I don't believe that Kerry was involved in the IRA, or that she would
just die without a fight. Plane crash or no plane crash." Kim was
pleased with herself. She had answered the question without giving too
much away. Just as a good psychiatrist should.
"Hmm." Carter obviously agreed with her words, or he wouldn't be here.
But he also clearly knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth. "Is
that the only reason?"
Kim met those soft brown eyes. Most women would melt under that
compassionate gaze and probably throw themselves into his arms. Then
again, most women weren't gay. Kim tried to hide the smile threatening
to surface as he turned on that small pout Kerry had told her about. He
was good, she had to give him that at least. "I care about her."
John had been on the verge of pointing out that most of the staff cared
about the strong woman, but any questions he had died when he took in
the look on her face. He felt a small, disappointed pang as he realized
that the blonde psychiatrist was immune to his charms. It was the
Maggie Doyle thing all over again. "You're in love with her, aren't
you?"
"Not yet," she admitted easily, "but I think I could fall for her if
she..." Kim trailed off, trying to decide how much to tell him. He was
Kerry's friend, but Kerry was a very private person.
"If she what?"
"She said she wasn't interested in women, but..."
"You don't believe her," John broke in, a little too quickly. He just
couldn't picture the two women together, as much as his mind was trying
at the moment. What could someone like Kim see in Kerry? No, strike
that. Kerry had many attractive qualities, as he well knew. But how
could Kim think Kerry was...? "Why?"
"You mean what could I possibly see in a middle-aged, short-tempered
invalid?"
John felt a surge of anger that would've made Kerry proud. "That isn't
what I meant. I meant..."
"I know what you meant." Kim interrupted softly. That's how a lot of
people viewed Kerry and John wanted to know if she did too. "If you and
Peter can see past all her barking then why can't someone else?"
John yielded the point, remembering how happy Kerry always looked when
she was in the beautiful Kim's company. He couldn't recall Kerry ever
reacting that way to anyone else, not even him. Could it be that Kerry
returned Kim's affections? He didn't like that thought.
John slumped back and eyed her. His own reaction bothered him somewhat.
Kerry was a great person, and deserved to have someone in her life who
loved her. And even while angry at her, John could see how attractive
Kim was. He should be happy for the two of them, and he couldn't
really blame Kerry if she...
No, he thought. Kim could say what she wanted, but that didn't mean it
was the truth. And whether it was the truth or not, Kerry wasn't gay.
John swore to himself to keep an eye on this woman.
Peter softly flicked the intercom off. John and Kim had stopped talking
a few minutes ago, and it was clear to him that they had nothing else
to say to each other. He was going to have to keep an eye on those two;
if Kerry was alive the last thing she'd need was two people who cared
deeply about her in conflict with each other.
It still amazed him after all this years how much Kerry could affect
people. They either loved her or hated her. There never seemed to be an
in-between with her. The problem was Kim and John were both on the love end
of the scale.
If anything, it would make for an interesting trip.
Kerry woke up immediately. Her instincts were working overtime against
the pain throughout her body. She could see the dying light through the
brush covering her hiding place. She shifted in the small space and
pulled herself out.
Her bad leg was stiff and aching worse than it had since... She pushed
that thought away and crawled out from under the folded, bunched
parachute she'd been using as a sleeping bag. She had no idea how she
was going to be able to do a lot of walking, even if she'd had a
crutch.
Grabbing the tree, she pulled herself up and tested her leg. She
groaned, biting her lip to keep from screaming out from the pain. The
muscles were threatening to give out.
Kerry's head snapped around. She thought she'd heard... It sounded like
a branch snapping. Heavy breathing... and it sounded like it was coming
closer.
Kim dropped her suitcase inside her bedroom. John had offered to take
it again, but she didn't let him. He was a nice man, but now there was
a tension between them. They were on the same side, looking for the
same ending, and that was the problem.
At least she hoped he was on her side. His stubburn insistance that they
trust some ex-thief turned turned spy was suspicious, but he wouldn't
take no for an answer, simply saying that he was a friend of Kerry's.
Peter she still couldn't get a handle for, but she had suspicions. The
man was sly and as good with masks as Kerry was.
"Hey you coming?"
Kim turned to see Peter standing in the door. He was giving her that
neutral 'I'm not really interested but I'm asking anyway' look. "Is he
here already?"
"You could say that." Peter gave her a sly grin. "We found him in our
room waiting for us."
Kim just couldn't understand how this guy could help them, but right
now she didn't have any other ideas. She let Peter escort her down the
sidewalk to the room right next to hers. She could see the tall, tanned
man talking to John already.
His body was lean and firm. The body of an Olympic gymnast. She'd bet
he was even double-jointed. Probably a light weight-lifter too. He was
in good shape for someone his age. She closed the door and took a seat
where she could see every movement, every facial expression, hear every
sound.
The stranger turned his attention to her, his hands stuffed casually
into his black slacks. He propped himself up on the cheap dresser and
crossed his black leather loafers. The smile that crossed his eerily
smooth skin seeming like a cat.
"Well now, you must be Dr. Legaspi. I'm John Robie."
The nerves tingled at the back of her neck as she froze, listening
intently. He wasn't experienced in the bush, thank God, or he'd have
been able to creep up on her silently.
She knelt slowly, ignoring the screaming ache, and peered carefully
through the trees and foliage at knee-level. Sometimes you could see
another person's feet before their face...
In this case, she heard him first.
"Got you...!"
He came around from behind her tree, swinging some sort of curved,
round blade that was the size of a small basketball to slice her up in
the same movement. It was a good, killing stroke that would have cut
her throat instantly, if she'd been standing.
Someone thinking less clearly might have rolled away from him and tried
to run, but this would have been disaster. The bastard has ten inches
and a hundred pounds on her, and could have caught up to her and killed
her before she got a dozen feet away.
She did the opposite, standing quickly, no matter how much it hurt.
She had a handful of the parachute's material in her left hand, and she
swept it like a cape in front of him. He spat an oath as the tough,
silky material covered his face and entangled his arms.
Now, her innermost voice told her. You won't get another chance.
She threw all her weight against him, pressing his shrouded body
against the tree, drew her knife and stabbed straight into him.
She felt it sink in, the warm blood rushing down onto her arm. The
sickening crunch and agonizing scream was her only clue as to where
she'd gotten him. She gritted her teeth and twisted it around...held it
until he was still...then yanked it back out.
Stepping back, she pushed him away, taking little interest as his limp
bulk went down and stayed that way.
Kerry's knees gave out, and she sat down hard, exhaustion and
adrenaline clashing within her. She shook from more than the cold.
After what seemed like forever, she reached over and pulled the
bloodied parachute off the pilot's face. His mouth and eyes were open,
blank and vacant. The sheer finality of it pierced her. She'd killed
those other men on the plane and had no time to confront it, but here
it was in front of her. Proof that she'd taken a life. Broken her
oath as a doctor. God damn you, Boyd, for putting me in this
position...
Rolling onto her knees, she cleaned her knife with the chute, sheathed
it, and tried to stand up. Her leg searched for a solid surface,
finally finding an uneven batch that seemed lower than where her other
leg was.
She pushed off with her hands and tried her leg. It felt weak and
overused but she had no choice. Pulling her hands up...
Involuntarily, she yelled out; the pain too much. Her leg crumpled and
dragged her down after it.
Kerry was just glad that the snow was so soft. Her hands reached out to
take some of the impact, but her body was tilting to the side all of a
sudden. Kerry felt panic rising as she realized that the fall was
taking too long.
Her left shoulder hit first, her body jerking her into a continuous
roll over the painfully rocky surface. Kerry reached out and grabbed at
the rocks that littered the surface snapping her body around onto her
back as she continued in a impossibly fast downward slide.
Opening her eyes, she let out a silent scream. She was sliding down a
cliff toward a straight drop...
Part: 3/?
Rating: R
Pairing: Weaver, Legapsi, Carter, Benton.
Spoilers: Season seven.
Beta Reader: Scotty Welles
Note: For those of u who don't like Hitchcock. John Robie is from the movie to Catch A Theif, staring Cary Grant and Grace Kelley. John Robie was an ex-cat burgualr known as the cat. He was also an ex french resistence member, and did time in jail.
Disclaimer: U know this song and dance. Robie belongs to Hitchcock and paramount.
Kerry came to a stop next to the river. She'd been following it
downstream all night. She knew that if she followed it far enough it
would take into one of the state parks and, hopefully, a park ranger.
The sun was just beginning to rise, telling her it was time to sleep.
It had been a hard decision, but Kerry had finally admitted to herself
that the only real advantage she had over her attacker was her time in
Africa. She knew how to move at night and how to cover her tracks.
There was no way her attacker would try to go after her at night.
Plus, with the weather, it was dangerous for her to sleep at night. The
temperature had dropped past freezing. The last thing she needed was to
get hypothermia. As it was, it had been a struggle to keep moving and
not give in to the temptation of sleep.
Glancing around, she spotted a very small, black hole under a large,
old tree. She limped over to it and bent down. It was partially hidden
by underbrush, but she could see it was just big enough for a small
human to fit into. Kerry'd often wished to be taller, but now she was
glad that wish had never been granted.
Kerry threw the parachute pack inside, glad that she'd kept it. The
parachute would prove to be one of her only means of heat.
Kim slammed the phone down trying to keep her frustration under
control. Five different airlines and not one flight leaving for British
Columbia for two days. Two days she couldn't wait. She needed to leave
immediately.
"Dr. Legaspi?"
Kim looked up from her desk to see Carter standing in the doorway. "I'm
not on..." she began tiredly. She really didn't have time for this.
"Actually, Randi says you've decide to take a vacation."
Kim eyed him warily. She knew the young man was a good person, but what
if he told Romano why she was leaving? "That's right."
"I don't suppose that you're going to Canada..." he replied, his
expression telling her it was more than an idle inquiry.
Kim glanced at him, working hard to conceal her surprise. It was like
he had read her mind. "And what if I am...?" she asked, noncommittally.
Carter leaned against the doorway. "My family owns a private airline,"
he informed her casually. "And I've been thinking I need a vacation
lately, too."
They looked into each other's eyes, and it was clear that their words
were only a cover for the real thoughts being shared.
Kim smiled at him. She liked him, liked him a lot.
Carter took the single suitcase that Kim had brought and led her
towards the small jet. They hadn't spoken much on the way and,
truthfully, he didn't know what to say to her. He knew that she had
been working with Kerry quite a bit in the last few months but that was
about all he knew.
He let her walk up the metal stairs before following her into the
plane. Her thin frame paused as she caught sight of the tall, muscular
man that was already seated. Carter was surprised when she simply sat
across from Peter with a nod.
"Why are you here?" Kim could understand John, but Peter didn't strike
her as being close to Kerry.
Peter moved his coat so Carter could sit before he answered. "I owe
her." He stood abruptly. "I'm going to go talk to the pilot."
John waited until Peter had disappeared into the cockpit before he
spoke. "He and Kerry knew each other before they were at County, but
neither of them will talk about it. From the way they act around each
other, you'd think the other doesn't exist, but that's all it is, is an
act."
The fierce loyalty that was in Peter's eyes was not the look of a
simple colleague, but Carter was right. She'd seen them work together a
few days before. They'd barely acknowledged each other, and when Kerry
spoke she only mentioned him in passing.
Kim frowned slightly as she thought about the story Kerry had been
telling the other night. "... Boyd and Peter had to..."
"They knew each other," she said aloud.
Carter gave her a puzzled look. "That's what I just said."
"No, I mean Kerry's husband. Peter knows him." How could she have
missed it? It had been right there the entire time. Kerry had been so
happy and carefree retelling that story.
Carter's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"No. It's just a guess. She was talking about Boyd and a surgeon named
Peter."
"I guess it's possible. Kerry never told me about her husband, and
Peter doesn't talk much outside of work, anyway." Carter shook his
head. "I'll ask him about it later..."
He suddenly took interest in picking invisible lint off his blue jeans.
"Dr. Legaspi..." he began.
"Carter, you're giving me a ride. I think that entitles you to call me
'Kim'."
"Okay...Kim," he started again. "If you don't mind my asking, why are
you here?"
"I'm her friend," she said carefully, revealing nothing. Jeez, first
Randi, now Carter. Kim didn't mind questioning people; after all it
was her job. You ask question, you observe their behavior, you evaluate
them. But she didn't like having it done to her; that was the fun of
her job she could act as crazy and disturbed as she wanted and then
simply say it was research. They, in turn, just had to except it and
move on.
"Kerry had...HAS a number of friends, but you don't see anyone else
here." Carter was telling the truth, at least partially. Kerry did have
a number of friends, despite what the ER staff thought; it was just
that only a small handful lived in America.
"I don't believe that Kerry was involved in the IRA, or that she would
just die without a fight. Plane crash or no plane crash." Kim was
pleased with herself. She had answered the question without giving too
much away. Just as a good psychiatrist should.
"Hmm." Carter obviously agreed with her words, or he wouldn't be here.
But he also clearly knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth. "Is
that the only reason?"
Kim met those soft brown eyes. Most women would melt under that
compassionate gaze and probably throw themselves into his arms. Then
again, most women weren't gay. Kim tried to hide the smile threatening
to surface as he turned on that small pout Kerry had told her about. He
was good, she had to give him that at least. "I care about her."
John had been on the verge of pointing out that most of the staff cared
about the strong woman, but any questions he had died when he took in
the look on her face. He felt a small, disappointed pang as he realized
that the blonde psychiatrist was immune to his charms. It was the
Maggie Doyle thing all over again. "You're in love with her, aren't
you?"
"Not yet," she admitted easily, "but I think I could fall for her if
she..." Kim trailed off, trying to decide how much to tell him. He was
Kerry's friend, but Kerry was a very private person.
"If she what?"
"She said she wasn't interested in women, but..."
"You don't believe her," John broke in, a little too quickly. He just
couldn't picture the two women together, as much as his mind was trying
at the moment. What could someone like Kim see in Kerry? No, strike
that. Kerry had many attractive qualities, as he well knew. But how
could Kim think Kerry was...? "Why?"
"You mean what could I possibly see in a middle-aged, short-tempered
invalid?"
John felt a surge of anger that would've made Kerry proud. "That isn't
what I meant. I meant..."
"I know what you meant." Kim interrupted softly. That's how a lot of
people viewed Kerry and John wanted to know if she did too. "If you and
Peter can see past all her barking then why can't someone else?"
John yielded the point, remembering how happy Kerry always looked when
she was in the beautiful Kim's company. He couldn't recall Kerry ever
reacting that way to anyone else, not even him. Could it be that Kerry
returned Kim's affections? He didn't like that thought.
John slumped back and eyed her. His own reaction bothered him somewhat.
Kerry was a great person, and deserved to have someone in her life who
loved her. And even while angry at her, John could see how attractive
Kim was. He should be happy for the two of them, and he couldn't
really blame Kerry if she...
No, he thought. Kim could say what she wanted, but that didn't mean it
was the truth. And whether it was the truth or not, Kerry wasn't gay.
John swore to himself to keep an eye on this woman.
Peter softly flicked the intercom off. John and Kim had stopped talking
a few minutes ago, and it was clear to him that they had nothing else
to say to each other. He was going to have to keep an eye on those two;
if Kerry was alive the last thing she'd need was two people who cared
deeply about her in conflict with each other.
It still amazed him after all this years how much Kerry could affect
people. They either loved her or hated her. There never seemed to be an
in-between with her. The problem was Kim and John were both on the love end
of the scale.
If anything, it would make for an interesting trip.
Kerry woke up immediately. Her instincts were working overtime against
the pain throughout her body. She could see the dying light through the
brush covering her hiding place. She shifted in the small space and
pulled herself out.
Her bad leg was stiff and aching worse than it had since... She pushed
that thought away and crawled out from under the folded, bunched
parachute she'd been using as a sleeping bag. She had no idea how she
was going to be able to do a lot of walking, even if she'd had a
crutch.
Grabbing the tree, she pulled herself up and tested her leg. She
groaned, biting her lip to keep from screaming out from the pain. The
muscles were threatening to give out.
Kerry's head snapped around. She thought she'd heard... It sounded like
a branch snapping. Heavy breathing... and it sounded like it was coming
closer.
Kim dropped her suitcase inside her bedroom. John had offered to take
it again, but she didn't let him. He was a nice man, but now there was
a tension between them. They were on the same side, looking for the
same ending, and that was the problem.
At least she hoped he was on her side. His stubburn insistance that they
trust some ex-thief turned turned spy was suspicious, but he wouldn't
take no for an answer, simply saying that he was a friend of Kerry's.
Peter she still couldn't get a handle for, but she had suspicions. The
man was sly and as good with masks as Kerry was.
"Hey you coming?"
Kim turned to see Peter standing in the door. He was giving her that
neutral 'I'm not really interested but I'm asking anyway' look. "Is he
here already?"
"You could say that." Peter gave her a sly grin. "We found him in our
room waiting for us."
Kim just couldn't understand how this guy could help them, but right
now she didn't have any other ideas. She let Peter escort her down the
sidewalk to the room right next to hers. She could see the tall, tanned
man talking to John already.
His body was lean and firm. The body of an Olympic gymnast. She'd bet
he was even double-jointed. Probably a light weight-lifter too. He was
in good shape for someone his age. She closed the door and took a seat
where she could see every movement, every facial expression, hear every
sound.
The stranger turned his attention to her, his hands stuffed casually
into his black slacks. He propped himself up on the cheap dresser and
crossed his black leather loafers. The smile that crossed his eerily
smooth skin seeming like a cat.
"Well now, you must be Dr. Legaspi. I'm John Robie."
The nerves tingled at the back of her neck as she froze, listening
intently. He wasn't experienced in the bush, thank God, or he'd have
been able to creep up on her silently.
She knelt slowly, ignoring the screaming ache, and peered carefully
through the trees and foliage at knee-level. Sometimes you could see
another person's feet before their face...
In this case, she heard him first.
"Got you...!"
He came around from behind her tree, swinging some sort of curved,
round blade that was the size of a small basketball to slice her up in
the same movement. It was a good, killing stroke that would have cut
her throat instantly, if she'd been standing.
Someone thinking less clearly might have rolled away from him and tried
to run, but this would have been disaster. The bastard has ten inches
and a hundred pounds on her, and could have caught up to her and killed
her before she got a dozen feet away.
She did the opposite, standing quickly, no matter how much it hurt.
She had a handful of the parachute's material in her left hand, and she
swept it like a cape in front of him. He spat an oath as the tough,
silky material covered his face and entangled his arms.
Now, her innermost voice told her. You won't get another chance.
She threw all her weight against him, pressing his shrouded body
against the tree, drew her knife and stabbed straight into him.
She felt it sink in, the warm blood rushing down onto her arm. The
sickening crunch and agonizing scream was her only clue as to where
she'd gotten him. She gritted her teeth and twisted it around...held it
until he was still...then yanked it back out.
Stepping back, she pushed him away, taking little interest as his limp
bulk went down and stayed that way.
Kerry's knees gave out, and she sat down hard, exhaustion and
adrenaline clashing within her. She shook from more than the cold.
After what seemed like forever, she reached over and pulled the
bloodied parachute off the pilot's face. His mouth and eyes were open,
blank and vacant. The sheer finality of it pierced her. She'd killed
those other men on the plane and had no time to confront it, but here
it was in front of her. Proof that she'd taken a life. Broken her
oath as a doctor. God damn you, Boyd, for putting me in this
position...
Rolling onto her knees, she cleaned her knife with the chute, sheathed
it, and tried to stand up. Her leg searched for a solid surface,
finally finding an uneven batch that seemed lower than where her other
leg was.
She pushed off with her hands and tried her leg. It felt weak and
overused but she had no choice. Pulling her hands up...
Involuntarily, she yelled out; the pain too much. Her leg crumpled and
dragged her down after it.
Kerry was just glad that the snow was so soft. Her hands reached out to
take some of the impact, but her body was tilting to the side all of a
sudden. Kerry felt panic rising as she realized that the fall was
taking too long.
Her left shoulder hit first, her body jerking her into a continuous
roll over the painfully rocky surface. Kerry reached out and grabbed at
the rocks that littered the surface snapping her body around onto her
back as she continued in a impossibly fast downward slide.
Opening her eyes, she let out a silent scream. She was sliding down a
cliff toward a straight drop...