Gem Stone by Dale Mayer Page A

hopped to the closest bushes. Hot and sweaty from the exertion, he couldn't stop a sigh of relief at having escaped. A quick glance back showed they'd have no problem tracking him down because his movements had churned up the dusty ground.
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    Taking only a quick moment, he searched the area but couldn't see anything around to cut the ropes on his feet, so he kept going as fast as he could. There were miles of small brush clumps and dry rocky ground. He needed more cover, damn it.
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    He fell several times; each time he picked himself up and carried on. Panic used up his air immediately and left stitches of pain stabbing into his ribs with every movement. The men would return any minute, possible with Gem. Getting away was the best way to help himself…and her. A large log crossed his path. Shit. He sat down and spun his legs over to the other side and hopped some more.
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    A yell sounded behind him.
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    Crap. His heart pounded and the surge of blood through his veins threatened to choke him. The next jump did him in. He landed awkwardly, twisted to try to catch his balance and fell over sideways.
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    He rolled and rolled, gaining momentum on the way down to the creek. Damn it. He didn't cry out but groans erupted from deep inside as he hit rocks, then tree roots and more rocks before the last flip sent him face down in the water. He sank rapidly.
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    Mark was normally a strong swimmer, but bound as he was, he couldn't kick and could barely use his hands.
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    Water rushed in through his open mouth and he gagged. He managed to tug the cloth around his mouth over his head. Thrashing to get his feet under him, he tried to kick up hard enough to get air.
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    Panic set in. His feet found a rock. He shot up from it to the surface. He'd never known the creek was this deep.
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    Breaking the surface, he gulped air as his lungs expanded. He coughed slightly, kicking his bound legs back and forth like a dolphin to keep himself up.
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    Shit.
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    Yells and sounds of people crashing through the bush warned him of imminent recapture. He needed to hide. A log lay partially submerged off to his right. He dropped below the surface of the water, pushed off the rocks on the bottom and managed to snag branches of the log with one hand. He slipped under it to surface carefully on the far side where his face was hidden by the branches.
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    Pressing tightly against the log to prevent his white skin from shining through, Mark waited and gulped in air. His biggest fear was that they had someone on both sides of the creek. Assessing his location, he realized this spot widened to a large pond with the creek trickling down the one side. It would make a great swimming hole if they could clean up the weeds and debris. Right now, though, the mess of tall weeds might save his ass.
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    "Did you see him surface?" Humpty called out.
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    It was Dumpty who answered. "No. He thrashed pretty good. I don't think he made it."
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    "Then go after him."
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    Shit. Double shit. Mark sunk lower, careful to not make a ripple in the water.
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    "Hell, I'm not going in that water. Leave his body there. Saves us the trouble."
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    "We don't want anyone to suspect anything."
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    "What? Why not? He drowned. Accidental death."
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    "With handcuffs and his feet tied together? Don't think that's going to wash with the authorities."
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    "Look at this hick town, who's going to find him out here?"
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    "I don't know. Don't think the boss is going to like this."
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    "Good, then he can go in and take off the restraints himself, because I ain't. It's one thing to kill em, it's another to go fishing for corpses. That's just gross."
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    "Jesus. You're the one that's gross. What a fucking idiot."
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    "What. He's gone. That's all the boss is gonna care about."
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    "We're still going to have to come back and either remove the evidence from the body or remove the body entirely."
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    The voices faded slightly as the