Final Resort. Dana MentinkЧитать онлайн книгу.

      THREE

      Ava’s stomach lurched in terror as she felt her legs drop through the ice and into the frigid water below. The breath was driven from her lungs. She’d thought she was numb from lying there for so long, but the cold was like an electric shock, jolting her body to the core. Arms scrambling, she tried to grab on to something, but her fingers raked through loose snow without finding a handhold. Inexorably she was sliding toward the exposed depths of the lake. Her feet splashed into the water.

      “Luca,” she screamed.

      His body stiffened, mouth open.

      Nothing she did slowed her progress. Just before her torso slipped in, she managed to hook her hands into a crack, holding the frozen mass to her body like a bizarre icy life preserver. Her legs remained submerged, but her head and shoulders were above water, at least for the moment.

      Luca was shouting something, but the thundering of her heart drowned out his cries. She felt as if the lake was some live thing, sucking her down to the bottom, like it had done to her mother. In a few moments, her body would be claimed by it.

      Ava felt the spark of anger light in her belly. Her mother had willingly offered herself up to death, walked into those dark waters and left her sixteen-year-old daughter behind with only an unpredictable uncle and a wounded father to care for her. She chose the lake, she chose her own drowning.

      Why? Ava felt the puzzle rise again in spite of the horror of her situation.

      Her mind circled the question that she’d wondered about countless times before.

      Why did you choose these frigid waters over me?

      Ava felt that old pain lance through her, through her frozen legs and into her heart, right up to her fingertips which were rapidly becoming too numb to maintain their grip.

      I won’t give up.

      Ever.

      I won’t make the same choice you did, Mom.

      She tried to hug the ice more tightly, but the strength seemed to be leaching out into the water that surrounded her. She kicked her legs to keep the circulation going, but they felt like two pieces of wood.

      Luca tossed something at her. A rope, she finally realized. A spark of hope thrilled inside her as it slithered across the ice.

      She tried to grab for it, but the motion almost cost her her grip on the ice. The rope fell away and disappeared into the water between two floating pieces. She did not dare let go of the ice to fish around for it.

      “I can’t,” she said, breathless.

      “Yes, you can,” Luca shouted, enraged. He reeled in the coil and tried again.

      The rope hit the water just in front of her, splashing her face with stinging droplets. Blinking, she tried again to grab for it. This time the ice broke into several smaller pieces like a frozen jigsaw puzzle. She struggled to keep her grip on the larger of the chunks. Clinging there, breath coming in desperate pants, her body shivered violently.

      Luca was furiously gathering in the rope, getting ready to toss it again. She saw him swinging the rope, strong arm tense.

      “I can’t get it, Luca,” she called. “I can’t let go.”

      She couldn’t tell if he heard her or not. Despair added weight to her sodden clothes and she felt herself sinking lower into the water. Luca dropped his arm and turned away.

      She felt oddly relieved. She did not want him to see her desperation, the fear that made her weak. Help would come soon, she knew. The ski patrol would make it on scene quickly enough, but hypothermia would arrive before they did. It could take less than fifteen minutes in freezing water for death to come. She clung tighter to the ice, trying to calculate how long she’d been in the grip of the frozen lake. Her arms were clumsy, fingers nearly useless.

      Her gaze went to the road, to the rut marks left by the snowmobile. Who would want to hurt Uncle Paul? Truthfully, many. He’d crossed a number of people, cheated them even. There were plenty of men eager to settle a score.

      She heard a noise and saw Luca with a rope tied around his waist, charging out onto the ice. Blinking to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating, she looked again. What was he thinking? His six-foot muscled bulk would break through the ice in a moment and send him into the frozen water right along with her.

      “No, Luca,” she called, voice weak as a kitten’s.

      He did not alter course, so she tried to yell louder.

      “Go back.” Her words were faint but noisy thoughts crowded her mind.

      Go back, Luca. Don’t throw away your life for mine.

      She felt sick at the thought, but she knew he would probably do the same for any other man, woman or child he found in the same situation, and probably an animal, too. She remembered the bird he’d told her about that he’d retrieved after it had gotten tangled in some old tree netting. People said he was crazy to climb a fifteen-foot pine to free a sparrow. People were right.

      With dread, she watched him step onto the slick surface. Ice crackled around her as he planted one foot in front of the other, as if he was navigating some strange tightrope through the water. He moved closer, teetering slightly as he kept his balance. Face fixed in concentration, he moved slowly toward her until he was close enough for her to hear him.

      “Hold on, Ava. I’ll be there in a minute.”

      “Please go back,” she whispered. Please.

      She watched through blurry eyes as he stepped onto the chunk of ice near her, amazed that he had not fallen through. Her body shivered so badly she could hardly keep him in her field of vision.

      Slowly, kneeling on a shelf of ice, he crouched over to grab for her sleeve. The green of his eyes was the only thing she could see clearly, just as vibrantly green as she remembered. His fingers gripped her wrist and she imagined they must be warm, warmer than hers anyway, but she could not feel anything. She was having a hard time seeing him through her growing cloud of confusion.

      “Let go now, Ava.”

      She could not force her fingers to relinquish their grip.

      Hold on, her mind screamed and her body obeyed, clinging in manic determination to that small hunk of ice.

      “Let go,” Luca demanded again.

      She closed her eyes and pressed harder against the ice chunk, her limbs like the twisted branches of the trees that ringed Melody Lake.

      His grip tightened around her wrist and he began to pry her fingers away from the ice. “Ava, you’re coming with me one way or another.”

      She was tired, more tired than she’d ever been. Her body felt suddenly as if it was heating up, warming from the inside. If she didn’t get her jacket off, she thought she would roast.

      She wiggled on the ice.

      “What are you doing?” Luca said.

      “Taking off my jacket. Too hot.”

      He grabbed both wrists now. “That’s the hypothermia talking. You’re not hot. You’re cold and we’re getting out of here.”

      He hauled her