Lone Survivor

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  At last, her guide slowed and then halted near the edge of a moonlit clearing. Karissa stopped next to him, swaying on tingling feet. Every muscle hummed, high on adrenaline. Hunter’s hand on her elbow steadied her. The baby let out one of those long infant sighs but seemed, oddly enough, to have slept through the excitement. Probably the rhythmic sway of the sling had lulled him as she ran.

  “I hope you know...where we are...because I’m clueless,” she puffed out raggedly.

  “I have a general idea, and better yet, I know where we’re going. Our pursuers don’t.” His voice came out strained but only mildly breathless. “That may be our best advantage right now, as well as the darkness, though low visibility could work against us also.”

  Karissa gulped in a long breath of air then let it out slowly. Hands on hips, she stared up at Hunter’s strong profile outlined in the moonlight. “How did the shooter see to fire at us? And where was he firing from? I didn’t hear the shot.”

  “I’ve been mulling over those things, too. A night-vision scope on a high-powered rifle would answer the vision problem, and a silencer would account for lack of sound, as well as why the shooter missed that first critical shot. Silencers can negatively affect accuracy. I suspect the sniper was positioned in the fire tower about a half mile from the cabin. That’s why I wasn’t alerted to his presence by a disruption in the normal night sounds of the forest.”

  “But how did they know we might have survived that horrendous fire?”

  Hunter’s face swiveled toward her. She couldn’t read his expression in the dimness, but his eyes bored into her. “As I’ve said before, you ask good questions. It’s possible the fake ranger found the plans for the bunker while he was at the main station and decided to post someone to wait and see if we popped out.”

  “Why didn’t they just lurk and ambush at the opening or come on down there after us right away?”

  “As to the former, I doubt they dared hang around the area very long, risking being spotted close to the burned-out cabin by any legitimate park personnel who might have showed up. As to the latter—” his shoulders rolled in a shrug “—I doubt they could find the hatch. It’s not where the plans say it should be. Jace and I changed the location at the last minute, intending to update the plans, but I don’t remember that either of us got around to doing it. Also, the hatch is very well camouflaged.”

  Karissa rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “Good explanation, but is this Remy guy calling the shots—literally—or does he have a boss who is behind all of this?”

  Hunter grunted. “Either way, it appears whoever is after us has access to tremendous resources and no hesitancy about using them.”

  “After us? Me, you mean. I’m the one who stumbled onto the murder scene. I’m sure he’s worried I caught a glimpse of his face. You are collateral damage. However, I can’t say what intentions the killer had for Kyle, since we don’t know the motive behind all this mayhem.”

  Hunter shook his head. “I’m now as much of a target as you are. Our enemy needs to eliminate anyone you’ve talked to or anyone who is standing between him and you.”

  “Again, I’m so sorry.” A bitter tang flooded her mouth as her stomach twisted.

  He shook his head. “God led you to me. I’m as sure of that as my own name. Leave it with Him.”

  “I’ll try. I’m mostly concerned about getting this little guy to safety.” She caressed the top of the downy head poking out of the sling under her chin. “Us, too, of course. Will the killers come after us?”

  “Possible, but doubtful.” Hunter shrugged. “It’s extremely difficult to track anyone through the woods in the dark, though I can’t rule out night vision goggles if they had a night scope on that rifle. We’ll have to hope for the best and hurry on our way.”

  Her insides unknotted a smidgeon. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

  “That long night hike I told you about. If you need a respite we can stop, but only briefly. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before sunup. If necessary, I can carry you for a while.”

  The nonsensical image of him cradling her like a baby while she cradled Kyle struck her as ridiculous, and a laugh snorted out her nose.

  “Don’t like that idea?” He grinned at her, teeth flashing white under the moon’s rays.

  On the surface, Hunter might look a bit rough around the edges, but he had a very nice smile.

  “I don’t find it too practical.” She squelched the spark of silly attraction.

  “It isn’t, especially when I need to be light-footed, wary and smart with our route.”

  “You’re not going to tell me our destination?”

  The grin flashed once more. “That’s where this plan gets good. By dawn, we should arrive at an old disused logging road. If we follow it for a mile or so, we’ll end up behind a hole-in-the-wall biker bar.”

  Her jaw dropped, and he lifted a quieting hand.

  “It’s not that kind of bar. The patrons’ idea of an adult beverage is a triple espresso, and the owner heads a gang of Christian bikers who hang out together plotting ways to bless people and minister to other bikers and people experiencing hard times. They’ll fall all over themselves to help us.”

  Karissa jerked her chin in as much of a nod as she could manage without displaying the shakes that quivered her insides. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  “This way.” Her guide waved her after him as he headed off.

  They walked up small hills and down into miniature vales, never leaving tree cover. Huffing, she struggled to keep up with Hunter’s long-legged stride but bit back her complaints because he consistently opened the way for her through the pervasive underbrush and prickly branches. Thankfully, the baby remained asleep. Though the night woods could seem eerie—all strange noises and odors with minimal sight—the darkness also offered a sense of cocooning protection.

  They’d been moving steadily for what seemed like hours, but was probably less, when they came to a small burbling stream. On the bank, Hunter held up a hand for a halt.

  “Where—” she started, but Hunter shushed her.

  He stood very still, head cocked, as if listening intently. Apparently, he heard something he didn’t like, because he let out a low growl.

  “I don’t believe it,” he muttered.

  “What—” Then she shushed herself, blood flowing cold.

  Dogs bayed in the distance, so faintly she could have imagined it, but she hadn’t. Not when Hunter had heard the sound, too. Trembles seized her limbs as her mind blanked, and a whimper escaped her throat.

  Hunter wrapped his solid arms around her. “Hang in there.” His words and warmth restored a measure of sanity. “I’m going to have to lay a false trail while you wait here with bitty boy. They’re miles behind us. You’ll be fine until I get back. Then we’ll have to walk in the water upstream for a while to give the dogs the best chance of following the false scent.”

  “You’re leaving me?” Blackness, not from the night, closed in around her.

  “I’m trusting you.” He guided her to a deadfall tree trunk a short way from the stream, shrugged out of his pack and laid it on the ground. With deft movements, he detached the rifle. “Should I leave this with you? Do you know how to use it?”

  Mouth dry as dust, mind scurrying like a rat in a maze, Karissa barely managed to shake her head. “Never used one,” she mumbled. “I’d be pretty useless with it.”

  “I’ll take it then.” Hunter slung the rifle across his back. “There’s trail mix in the pack and bottled water. Take the opportunity to fortify yourself.”

  Nodding wordlessly, she plopped onto the natural forest bench. Her feet and legs instantly relished the relief, but the distant baying of the dogs turned her insides to quivering mush. How long did they have until slavering jaws closed in?

  Stop it!

  Indulging such mental i
mages was counterproductive. She inhaled a deep breath and released it in ragged puffs. He said he was trusting her. Somehow those were the right words, the exact encouragement she needed. Her spine straightened, and she looked up at Hunter.

  “Vaya con Dios, or go with God, as some of my Belizean friends would say. Kyle and I will be right here when you get back.”

  “I know you will.” He brushed his fingers across her cheek, leaving a trail of tingling fire against her skin. Then he was gone, splashing across the stream and vanishing into the dark tree cover.

  Karissa snuggled the sleeping baby close, more for her sake than his. Hunter had been right about the chill in the forest after dark. Now that she wasn’t exerting herself, the coolness began to seep into her. But physical comfort was the least of her desires.

  Answers.

  She needed them, craved them. Who was so determined to kill her and why? Of course, the obvious answer was to shut her up about anything she might have seen at the murder site. Yet the effort to stamp her out seemed too relentless, too pointedly vicious for that explanation to satisfy. Why continue to expose himself by pursuing her with such elaborate ploys when he could simply have gone into hiding until time made it apparent whether or not she knew anything that could help the police? He could eliminate her later in a far less conspicuous fashion well before she could testify at trial. She’d read about such things happening.

  But what if the truth went deeper? What if the reason was wrapped up in why Nikki was killed in the first place? What if her cousin hadn’t been the only target—or maybe even the real target? The thought hit her like a punch in the gut, and the air left her lungs in a gush.

  Following the shocking accident that claimed her parents’ lives and then the tragic death of her twin sister, Karissa had gone ahead with her plans to leave for Belize. She’d thought the change of scenery would deliver her from the paranoia she’d begun to feel in the States that someone was out to get her family. Now she had to ask herself if her earlier fears were well founded. After all, just because a person thought someone was out to get them didn’t mean they were mentally unstable. Sometimes it was true. But who could possibly hate the Landon family so much?

  * * *

  Hunter trotted through the woods, deliberately swiping his hands across tree trunks. Every now and then he stopped and rolled in the compost of the forest floor. The extra-strong scent would keep the dogs interested. Then he’d get up and run again, teeth gritted, heart hammering like a piston.

  A furnace blazed in the core of his belly that hadn’t been stoked to this degree since that childhood day he’d dealt with a gang of bullies that came after his little brother on the playground. Then, he’d shocked himself—not to mention his parents, who’d been called in to sort out the aftermath—as well as Jace, who’d been in stunned awe of the black eyes his usually mild-mannered brother had delivered. After that, no one had wanted to get on his bad side or mess with his kid brother. And the criteria for his adult career had been set—something that tapped into the protective instincts embedded in his genes. Firefighter had fit that bill until he’d plowed headfirst into a wall of his human frailty.

  At this moment, rather than attempting to subtly mislead a pack of hounds and whoever followed them, everything in him strained to go on the offensive against the ruthless killer who was targeting a woman without any regard for the baby in her care. Hunter’s hands balled into fists. His priority had to be getting Karissa and the child to safety, but after that he was going to have a hard time stepping back and letting law enforcement handle everything—especially if the perpetrator was still determined to snuff out the woman and child’s lives. He simply wasn’t wired to ignore threats—especially threats to someone vulnerable.

  After a long mile of laying scent, Hunter turned back. His insides itched to verify the safety of his charges. What if he’d underestimated the amount of time their pursuers would need to catch up with them? He swatted the self-defeating thought away. The baying of the hounds still sounded sporadically but not yet close enough to create urgency. He had to believe he and Karissa would have time to implement the second half of his plan.

  Soon, the thin mewl of a fussing infant met his ears. Kyle had awakened—probably hungry. Abruptly, the crying stopped, and Hunter’s heart did a wild jump in his chest. Had something happened to silence the child? Electricity surged through his legs, sending him at reckless speed back over ground he’d recently covered. The tinkle of water flowing over rocks met his ears, and he slowed, pulling the rifle off his back and holding it ready. He crept forward carefully so as not to charge into an ambush. Scarcely daring to breathe, he halted at the tree line and examined the far bank of the cold stream that originated somewhere high in the mountains where snow was perpetual.

  The outline of a petite figure perched on the log where he’d left her, but what was she doing? She seemed to be reaching out, touching something, and then returning her hand to her chest—no, to the baby in the sling in front of her.

  “Karissa,” he called softly as he lowered the rifle.

  Her head came up, but he couldn’t make out her features.

  “You’re back.” Relief weighted her voice.

  Hunter splashed across the stream and joined her at the fallen log. In one hand, she held a handkerchief that had come out of the pack. Next to her sat the small plastic storage container that used to hold trail mix. Now it hosted something liquid.

  The baby let out a noise like a cross between a snarl and a sneeze then started to fuss again. Karissa bounced him in his sling, making shushing noises, as she reached over and dipped the corner of the hankie in the liquid and then brought it to the infant’s mouth. The little guy sucked noisily.

  Karissa let out a soft laugh. “Kyle woke up mad as a hornet that his belly was empty. I’m sorry but feeding him took priority over preserving the trail mix.” With her foot, she nudged the pile of seeds, nuts and dried oats and fruit that had been dumped on the ground. “His bottle and formula were incinerated with the cabin, so I’m improvising with powdered milk I found in the pack and mixed with water. He may get a bellyache from it, or he may not, but at least it will quiet him for a while. Your trail diversion won’t work well if a bawling baby leads our pursuers right to us.”

  Hunter drew in a deep breath and let it out in a chuckle. “Just when I think you can’t amaze me further, you do it again. How long do you think it will take for him to be satisfied? We have no time to waste.”

  “I have no idea. Can you give us five minutes or so?”

  “Okay,” he answered. Not that he was actually sure it would be okay or not.

  Too wound up to sit beside Karissa on the log, Hunter donned his pack and moved deeper into the trees back in the direction they’d come from. Those dogs, and presumably their armed handlers, were closing in. He might not be able to allow her a full five minutes.

  Two minutes dragged past, and the hairs on the back of Hunter’s neck were standing on end from the hungry bay of the nearing pack. Hunter hurried to the log to find Karissa standing up and adjusting the sling.

  “I’m ready,” she said. “He fell asleep again in midsuck, and hopefully he will stay asleep for a while.” The strain in her tone let him know that she was all too aware of the hounds closing in.

  He nodded and led the way into water that, at this time of the summer, came only up to his ankles. She followed without a word of protest, though the chill of the mountain stream must be nipping her skin through those canvas sneakers. He hardly felt the cold through his hiking boots. Sticking close to her, he lent support by grabbing her elbow any time she seemed to totter on the slick rocks at the bottom of the stream. Soon, whenever he took her arm, her shivers were obvious. Still, she did not complain, even when the water deepened to his calves, and he also started getting a taste of the cold. She must be freezing like an icicle.

  His respect for this petite dynamo
climbed another several notches. Unfortunately, they were going to have to remain in the water for a considerable distance in order for the ploy to have any chance of working. The baying of the pack drew close—much closer than Hunter liked. He practically held his breath, straining to know if the dogs would follow the false trail or pick up their true scent.

  Karissa leaned close into him, her shivers pronounced. “If they find us now,” she murmured, “I won’t be able to run. If that happens, I want you to take the baby and get him to safety.”

  Everything in Hunter begged to cry out, Forget it. We stand or fall together.

  “We’ll see if that time comes,” he said instead. Sure, bitty boy had to be the priority, but if their enemies closed in, he had his rifle and would use it first before fleeing as the last resort.

  Hunter pulled them to a halt, the better to listen. The dogs were coming. Their ravening tones echoed between the trees. Then the baying suddenly ceased. Hunter imagined the pack sniffing the area near the log where they had stopped and then vacated, and then splashing back and forth across the stream. In his mind’s eye, he pictured them milling and sniffing, noses to the ground, trying to determine the direction their prey had fled. Would they fall for the deception?

  All at once, a single hound let out a howl then the others joined in. The bedlam sounded too close, almost on top of them. The animals hadn’t fallen for the deception. Hunter’s gut wound tight, and he started to reach for his rifle.

  No...wait! He stood absolutely still, holding his breath.

  Seconds ticked past, and little by little, the baying began to fade. Hunter allowed himself to breathe again just as Karissa collapsed against him. He caught her up and, cradling her in his arms, made his way out of the stream. Moving as quickly as he could with his precious cargo, Hunter reset his trajectory by the stars and headed for their eventual destination. He couldn’t imagine a safer place to take his charges. But then, he’d imagined himself safe from almost anything at his cabin retreat, and look how that had turned out.