“Come on, people,” Tommy said.

  They did. Avery smelled something familiar. Something that stung her nostrils.

  She turned on the flashlight, used it to quickly scan the space, up and then over at the walls. Suspended in the air, from a series of ropes and cords, were hundreds and hundreds of marijuana plants. The Combs family used the cave to dry and cure their crop.

  Avery’s mind couldn’t calculate fast enough how much the plants must be worth, but it was certainly an enormous amount of money—with more still in the field waiting to be harvested.

  “Holy crap,” she said as she continued to look around.

  “Good temperature,” Camila said loudly into her ear. “Cool.”

  “Right.”

  “Jesus,” Tommy said. “This is worth . . . fuck, I don’t know how much.”

  They continued to move back, entering darkness. Avery used the flashlight to show the way, although it didn’t reveal much. And the risk of exposing the workers to their pursuers was too great. She needed to turn the flashlight off quickly.

  The ground they stood on was shaped like a wedge of pie. They’d entered the cave at the crust, and the farther back they moved toward the point, the less room there was. Eventually, they were crowded against the edge of the rushing river with nowhere to go. The river flowed on into the cave, out of sight and into the distance. But they were out of land. All they could do was stand there, about three hundred feet from the mouth of the cave, their eyes adjusting to the gloom. And wait.

  And hope.

  Avery stared down at the water, then turned the light off. Her proximity to the river caused a reaction inside her, a shivering, cringing aversion that hit the reptilian portion of her brain and made her want to back away in fear. She couldn’t control it. The feeling controlled her. Camila stood next to her, and Avery wanted to reach out and take her hand. Anything to steady herself, anything for reassurance that she wasn’t about to get sucked into the dark, cold water.

  Avery stepped back, looked over at Camila. “We’ll just wait. My sister went to get help.”

  “Okay,” Camila said. But her eyes showed greater concern. “They will leave us alone here?”

  The tone of her voice told Avery what she thought the answer to the question was.

  No.

  Avery had attacked them. The workers were running from them.

  And all that stood between them and the three men chasing them was Hank. Hank with his scrawny body and his one good arm. How many rounds remained in his gun?

  The sound of two more shots reached them.

  No, they weren’t going to leave the workers alone.

  Avery knew—they were coming.

  And if she had any doubts, they were erased a few minutes later. As the group huddled together against the rear wall of the cave, waiting and waiting, something caught Avery’s eye. Something light in the dark river heading toward them. She raised the flashlight for a moment.

  It might have been an animal, something floating along on the top of the water. But it was flat. Light colored. Not an animal or a person.

  A piece of paper? A note?

  Not that either. But it was a message.

  When it came abreast of them in the cave, she understood it.

  A shirt. Hank’s bloodstained shirt.

  Hank was dead. And they were next.

  96

  Long minutes ticked by.

  The baby started to cry, competing with the noise of the rushing water.

  “We’ll be okay,” Avery said. “It’s okay.”

  “I don’t know, dude,” Tommy said. “These guys play hard.”

  “They have guns,” Camila said. “We have none.”

  “Protect your baby,” Avery said. “Move back. Protect the baby.”

  “Podemos salir por la cueva,” Gilberto shouted.

  “What’s that?” Avery asked.

  “He says we can go . . . through the cave,” Camila said.

  “We can’t. It ends.”

  “A través del río. El río al borde del bosque. Por el camino.”

  “He says through the river. The river comes out on the other side. By the road.” Camila nodded, confirming what her husband said. “He says. Everybody says.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “She’s right,” Tommy said. “The river runs underground. Some people say, anyway.”

  “Sí. Collins said it once. Very dangerous.”

  “Then we shouldn’t do it,” Avery said.

  “Maybe they just want to keep us here,” Camila said. “So they tell us this.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should wait,” Tommy said. “Are the cops coming?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.”

  “Probably?”

  Gilberto came over and started pointing at the water. “Tenemos que irnos. Tenemos que irnos ahora. Ahora.”

  Avery didn’t need a translation. He wanted them to go—and go now.

  “Is he going to swim?” Avery asked. “What’s he going to do?”

  Gilberto and Vladimir started having an intense discussion. Gilberto pointed at the rushing water. Vladimir pointed back toward the opening of the cave. Celina tried to say something and was shouted down.

  They all stopped when a sound rose above the rushing water.

  Avery recognized the voice.

  Hogan.

  “Listen down there,” he said. “We don’t want to see anyone get hurt. But you’re going to have to come out of there and come back to camp. None of you have been listening to us very well. Especially you, Officer Rogers. We really want to talk to you about this situation. Now just come out—or we’re going to have to come in.”

  Avery stepped forward. “Let these people out, okay? They haven’t done anything. If you want me, that’s fine. But not them.”

  “We might be open to that,” Hogan said, his voice echoing through the cave. “But you all have to come out first.”

  Avery turned to the group. “Let me go out. I’ll talk to them. They want—maybe they won’t do anything to you if I go out and talk to them.”

  She stepped that way, and Camila reached out, put her hand on Avery’s arm. “Don’t go. Don’t.”

  “They want me. Not you.”

  “Camila’s right,” Tommy said. “Listen to her.”

  “They have guns,” Camila said. “They hurt people.”

  “Well?” Hogan said. His voice sounded closer. “It’s time to decide.”

  A large splash echoed through the cave. Avery looked. Celina had jumped into the water. She flailed for a moment, her arms beating the surface. But the rushing water swept her away and out of sight, out the back of the cave.

  “Oh my God,” Avery said.

  “Fuck it—I’m going.” Tommy jumped in as well. As the current pulled him away, he said, “It’s collllld.”

  Vladimir followed suit. He jumped into the water almost like a cannonball and let the rushing water sweep him away.

  “Uno a la vez,” Gilberto said. He waved at Camila. “Vamos. Vamos.”

  “One at a time,” Camila said. “Very narrow.”

  “Vamos. Vamos.”

  “I can’t go, Camila. I’m terrified of the water. I can’t get in there. You go.”

  “You must.”

  “I can’t. You don’t understand. I can’t.”

  “You must.”

  As if to prove Camila right, Hogan shouted one more time. “We’re coming in now.”

  A bullet whizzed over Avery’s head, close enough for her to feel it pass, followed by the report, which echoed off the cave walls.

  “Vamos.” Gilberto pointed at the water. “Vamos.”

  “Vete, vete.” Camila made shooing gestures with the hand that wasn’t holding the baby. “Estaré justo detrás de ti.”

  “La bebé?”

  “Vete. Vete.”

  Gilberto looked reluctant to go. Another shot was fired, and that decided him. He stepped toward the river, folded his arms across his chest, and said, “Te quiero.”

  “Te quiero.”

  He jumped in and was gone, leaving Avery and Camila alone by the river with the baby. Avery looked back once toward the mouth of the cave.

  A shot whistled past her head. It thumped into flesh—and then Camila screamed.

  Avery turned as Camila dropped to the cave floor. She held on to the baby with one hand. But Camila’s groans echoed off the walls. The red stain on Camila’s shoulder grew larger, her face contorted by searing pain.

  “No, Camila. Shit.”

  Avery bent down, examined the wound. It looked like the bullet had gone through flesh, and flesh only. No bone or artery. That was the good news.

  But Camila needed to get out immediately.

  With a baby.

  Avery helped Camila to her feet. The baby started to cry. “Camila, go.”

  Camila shook her head. “It hurts. Mucho dolor.”

  “Can you just hold on with one arm?”

  Avery sounded like an idiot making the suggestion. And Camila shook her head.

  Another bullet whipped over them.

  Camila moved forward, thrust the baby into Avery’s arms.

  “Wait, no . . .”

  “You must.”

  “But I—”

  “You must. You take her.”

  The baby settled into Avery’s arms. She tried to think of the last time she’d held one. One of Alisha’s kids? And even then, the babies had always felt unnatural in her hands, like someone had tossed a wild animal at her.

  Camila leaned in, kissed the baby on the top of the head. She looked at Avery. “You’re strong. Fuerte. You have two arms.”

  Camila jumped in as the others had and was swept away by the river.

  Avery felt frozen in place. The baby started to squirm. She pulled it closer, whispered in her ear to calm her, felt the soft, downy hair against her lips. She turned her body so it was between the child and the men coming into the cave.

  Firing into the cave.

  Avery pulled the baby even tighter to her chest. Terror rose inside her, spreading to every cell in her body. Her muscles quaked. She broke out in a sweat, even in the cool cave.

  No no no no no.

  I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.

  But she had no choice.

  She moved to the edge of the river, placed her hand over the baby’s head—the little protection she could offer.

  And jumped in.

  97

  The stinging cold water took her breath away.

  Needles digging into her skin.

  Avery closed her eyes, squeezed them tight. She felt the water rise over her face as she bobbed. Panic spread like a wildfire along every nerve ending inside her.

  The baby the baby.

  She held the baby tight, pressed against her chest. She made sure the baby’s head stayed above the water.

  The current took her away. Like she was in a jet from a fire hose, she was shot forward, propelled into the darkness at the back of the cave.

  Avery couldn’t tell where the baby and she were going—if they were going to smash into a wall or a rock. If they’d find themselves crashing into the broken bodies of the workers. Or if some random movement of the river might kill Avery—and the baby—and the others would be left waiting outside, never knowing what had happened to them.

  The river dropped down a small waterfall. Avery yelped.

  They were flat for a while. Then the river dropped again, like an elevator quickly plunging, creating the feeling—briefly—of there being nothing beneath them.

  But there was water. Always cold, dark water in the dark, dark cave.

  Avery’s eyes remained closed—and she found herself back in the pond on the side of I-65—below the surface of the water, her body sinking down to the bottom of the pond. Hands reaching her—Hank—pulling her up—

  Hank.

  He was dead. They had killed him. They had sent his shirt down the river to tell her.

  She should have gone back—she should have done more.

  He’d saved her at the pond, and he’d saved her today.

  But she held the baby—the baby the baby—

  Anna was the first baby Avery had ever held. She’d saved Anna. She’d saved the workers. She held the baby—was that enough?

  Was it ever enough?

  Then she was in the air, shooting over the water. The air changed—warmer. Avery splashed down into a pool. They briefly went under and came right back up. The water was warmer as well.

  When she came to the surface, the baby was crying. Avery opened her eyes. She saw trees around them, stars above. They were outside.

  Outside. Out of the cave.

  Avery’s feet dug, found purchase against the bottom of the pool of water. She straightened up, pulled the baby closer.

  “Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay. We’re out.”

  But where were the others? Had something gone wrong?

  Panic gripped Avery. Colder than anything else she’d felt. Were they hurt? Lost? Captured?

  “Alexa!”

  Someone waded into the water, splashing toward them. Camila and Gilberto.

  “She’s okay,” Avery said. “She’s okay.”

  Camila took the baby, folded her in her arms, ignoring her own pain. Kissed the baby all over her tiny head.

  “She’s okay,” Avery said. “She’s okay.”

  Was she talking about the baby? Or Anna?

  Or herself?

  “That was totally badass,” Tommy said. “Fuck, yes.”

  Avery had never felt so tired in her life. They all sloshed to the bank, moving out of the water and onto the muddy shore. Avery’s legs turned to rubber. They couldn’t hold her. She simply let her body go and sat down on the ground. She waited for her breath to come back. Her entire body shivered.

  She was out. Holy crap—she was out.

  They were all out.

  Avery looked up. The river flowed on, smaller and with less force. In the dark, she saw the outline of the small bridge, the one she’d driven across when she came looking for the Combs farm.

  Then she heard them. Faint at first but growing closer.

  Sirens. More than one. She heard the engines revving, saw the cruisers pass over the bridge, heading down the county road to the entrance of the Combs farm.

  They were there. Anna got them. She must have. That was why the cops were coming, and that was why it was going to be—

  Gilberto came over to her. He leaned down.

  “Estás bien?”

  She nodded her head in the dark.

  “Sí, sí. I’m okay. I am okay.”

  98

  It took hours to sort things out.

  Avery led the farmworkers up a small hill, at the top of which they reached the county road. Avery flagged down one of the cruisers as it sped by, and quickly medical attention came for their group. Along with the KSP and the sheriff’s office, who had questions.

  A lot of questions.

  Avery asked one of her own first. Was Anna okay?

  A KSP officer told her that Anna was just fine. She’d managed to walk the trail all the way out to Highway 9, as Hank had promised. And once there, she had flagged down a passing motorist—a nurse returning from her shift in the ER—and they called the police. Anna was currently being questioned at the police station in Rydell. She’d said she didn’t need any medical attention, but she was hungry.

  Avery was cold. Wrapped in a blanket—and wishing for another one. She sat in the back of a KSP cruiser, shivering, even though the heat blasted out like someone had opened a portal to hell. But her heart glowed with pride when she heard about Anna making it. Help wouldn’t have arrived without her.

  Avery then asked about Hank. A KSP detective she didn’t know, name of Cross, was handling her questioning. Cross said he couldn’t say anything for sure about Hank but promised to find out.

  “After all,” Cross said, “he’s one of our brothers.”

  “Right.”

  “In the meantime,” Cross said, “I need you to tell me what went on in there.”

  Avery did, slowly and carefully, trying her best to leave nothing out. Once she thought they’d been through it thoroughly the first time, she was asked to go through it again. She did—she tried to—but as she did, she grew more tired, more hungry, more irritated by the process, even though she understood that was exactly how things were going to unfold with the police. That was likely to be the first of countless times she repeated the story in the coming weeks and months, and she tried very carefully to remember every detail, to relate things in the exact and necessary order. She took pride in being able to do so. She might not be a cop anymore, but she didn’t want anyone to forget that she had once been one. She knew how to report the most important information. And report it accurately.

  As she went through the story both times, emergency vehicles came and went from the Combs property. Police cruisers, ambulances. Any number of unmarked cars. She wondered each time if they were bringing Hank out. And if he was alive. The image of his shirt floating down the river, bloodstained. The shots that had rung out behind her.

  Hope seemed foolish.

  “Can we get out of here?” Avery asked. “I’m cold. And I have to use the bathroom.”

  “Sure,” Cross said. “We can head back to the station in Rydell. We have enough to go on now. Let me just clear it.”

  Cross stepped out of the car and made a call. As Avery waited in the back, a white van went by. Even in the dark, she was able to read the word on the side of the van: coroner.

  The chill inside Avery gripped her harder. Like a claw hanging on to the back of her neck. Something large, like an animal, was ready to shake her and torment her.

  She tried to shift her thoughts to something positive. Something she’d won. Anna was okay. The workers were okay. Alexa, the baby, was okay.