Freefall by Kristen Heitzmann

interest that could prove unfortunate. Out here, working together, they were forging something in spite of his doubt. Friendship, she told herself, because the person they were going to find might already have her heart.
    A noise penetrated her thoughts, something that had been there for a while but now rose above the bird and insect calls, the wind, and their own breathing. A roar and pounding that echoed inside her like doom. Perched at an angle on the steep incline, Cameron pulled himself around a promontory and stopped. She ran into his back. Without turning, he steadied her.
    She pressed around and stared at the force before her with waves of recollection as Cameron closed his arm around her waist. “This is it,” she gasped, as memory almost took her legs. “I went over those falls.”
    He assessed the white column in silence, the black rock that formed its backdrop, the sheer walls of the basin enclosing it. “These falls are not accessible to tourists. There’s no trail.”
    “Up above.” She clutched his arm. “We—”
    “Jade. You’re tearing the tendons from my bone.”
    She let go of his arm and stared. Weren’t they in this together? He had pushed and pushed. They’d expended serious energy. Now that she remembered, he just stood there frowning? “This is it; I know it.”
    He said nothing.
    “You don’t believe me.” She pushed away, scrambled down the stony slope and splashed into the pool.
    “Jade!”
    She ignored him. Her companion was here somewhere. “Hey! Hello! Where are you!” Why didn’t she have a name to call? She’d thought everything would come back. Most of all the person she was there to find. Why couldn’t she remember?
    Cameron removed his pack and wedged it onto the basin wall, furious. She could have broken something, crashing into the pool that way. Lava basins were treacherous. He lowered himself behind her. “Jade.”
    She didn’t answer, just moved farther into the churning pool, searching the narrow shore at the foot of the basin where someone might conceivably have lain injured—or dead. If she’d gone over these falls, she was lucky to be alive. If she had a companion, he might not be. He didn’t want her to find a corpse, bloated and fetid after this many days in the elements. But she wouldn’t stop or listen.
    “Jade.” He caught hold of her.
    She scathed him with a look that made him let go, then turned and hollered, “Hello!” Her voice rasped, thick with need, but only the echo mocked a response.
    She hadn’t called out a name. Either she didn’t remember as completely as she wanted him to believe, or the whole thing was one impossible ploy. But what would she gain? Why pretend someone else was involved?
    He pushed through the troubled water. The day had alternated clear and stormy, but now thick gray clouds closed in. The wind sent spray into his face from the falls, and a fresh rain began. He swam after her, calling, “Jade, wait.”
    She turned on him. “Why are you even here?” Great question. “Get up on the bank. Let’s talk.”
    “No.” She moved closer to the falls, her gaze scouring the igneous bowl.
    He’d seen death, and this one could be bad. She’d have no idea. He caught up and hooked her waist with his arm. She fought, but he hauled her up the narrow bank and sat her down. “Just hold on a minute, okay?”
    She gulped back her anger and surprise.
    “Look around you.” He circled the basin with his arm. “Do you see any way someone could last in here five days?”
    Her breath came hard and sharp. She frowned at the steep, unyielding walls, the churning water, the bare, thin strip of ground around the pool. In spite of his skepticism, he’d wanted to find something to justify her hope. But while she seemed to have some kind of supernatural protection, there was no evidence her companion did. Unless he’d been carried out like her through the rapids, he’d most likely been dashed to his death beneath the pounding