Nigel’s grip was slipping. His hands were sweaty, and he was struggling to hold on. The gunshots he heard overhead didn’t make him feel any better. He could see Dahlia behind the vehicle. She started rummaging through one of the guard’s pants, then other areas.

She was looking for ammunition.

“We are all going to die,” Dahlia said, too calmly for Nigel to make sense of.

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Nigel looked up again, his eye stinging as sweat starting seeping in. Dahlia threw something toward the sound of the bullets. He heard a clanking sound, and then an explosion rocked the side of the mountain. Natasha started sliding downward while Nigel held on.

Dahlia grabbed her whip, and with the flick of her wrist, the whip unraveled. Then, as if it were a living thing, it wrapped around one of Natasha’s legs. Natasha screamed. Dahlia pulled, but her feet were sliding in the moist dirt.