by Danika Stone
“Here,” she said as she came back to Ash’s side. “Take these.”
He swallowed them without argument and handed back her canteen. “S-so cold. The fire…?”
Vale felt tears fill her eyes. “The ember went out,” she said in a broken voice. “I tried, Ash, but I couldn’t—”
A flash of lightning—so near it filled the cave with pinkish light—blinded her, the crash of thunder booming half a second later. The smell of ozone filled the air. Ash had begun to cough again, and Vale crouched next to him.
“S-so fricking c-cold—” His coughing grew worse.
“Here. Take my coat for a while.”
She slid the jacket off her shoulders and laid it on Ash’s shoulders. She added the emergency blanket on top of that. Even here in the cave, completely out of the rain, the heat was sucked from her body in seconds. A damp chill gripped the mountain’s hollow, and with the wind rising, it grew colder. Rain poured like water from a faucet over the lip of the entrance. Leaden clouds churned the sky and drowned out the light. Out in the valley, lightning clawed down from the sky, piercing the unnerving late afternoon darkness.
A tremor of fear ran through Vale, and she began to shake. They were cold and wet. They had no fire. They were not in Waterton Park anymore, as far as she could tell, but she had no idea where in the world they were. Somewhere in BC was her guess, but that was a massive area to search. It might take weeks for searchers to find us. Vale felt the first bubble of panic rise in her throat, and she swallowed it down. Lightning slashed through the sky, closer now. Most people die of exposure long before they die of hunger or thirst … Another bubble of panic rose, coming out as a sob, just as Ash was hit with another coughing fit. The sound tore at Vale. She put her head down against her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, letting the tears come. Oh God … we’re not getting out of this alive.
“H-hey—” Ash coughed again. “V-Vale…?” He choked back another cough.
“Y-yeah?”
Ash’s face was sweaty, bits of mud stuck to his cheeks from when he’d lain down on the ground. “A-are y-you okay?”
“I—I’m—” At another time Vale might have laughed about how he looked, but at this moment she found herself drawn to the details. Face gaunt, his tangled hair stuck to his head, jaw stubbled with four days of growth. She wanted to remember this moment—remember Ash!—in case they didn’t walk away from here. He’s hurt and sick, and I can’t fix it. The thought set off a wave of sobs.
“I screwed up!”
Vale felt the first hiccups of panicked sobbing break through the barrier of her throat, and she covered her mouth with her hands. Her fear had reached chain reaction, and there was no longer a way to stop it. She imagined the phone call to her parents. I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Shumway, but we have some bad news. Her mother would be inconsolable, her father stoic but broken. Another sob broke free, then another and another, her self-control crumbling. She wanted to stop—to be strong for Ash—but the terror mixed with a sudden realization of what this moment would do to her family had destroyed any semblance of control.
“N-no. You didn’t.” Ash stared at her with a pained expression. “It’s okay—” He broke off and coughed. “P-put your j-jacket on. I-it’s freezing.”
Vale’s tears came harder.
“P-please.” A hand bumped her arm, and she turned to discover Ash had crawled up to his knees.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“Y-you’re c-cold. Please. T-take your coat.” Ash held out her jacket with his left hand. The gesture brought another wave of tears. Vale slid her coat on. She got the zipper started, but with her hands shaking, she couldn’t make it go up the rest of the way. Defeated, she put her face back down on her knees and sobbed.
“H-here. Let me take a look.” Ash reached down with his good hand and jiggled the zipper. It jerked once against the snag of fabric, then slid free. “I-it’s okay. It was just stuck—” Another crack of lightning lit the dim cave. Vale’s ears rang with the boom of thunder.
“I-it’s not okay!” she cried. “There’s no fire! I c-can’t—”
“V-Vale. J-just calm down. It’s okay. Y—” He let out a choking cough. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m not! This whole situation is awful!”
“S-stop crying, please.” Ash reached out and patted her back. The motion had the same awkwardness Vale recognized from her father’s attempts to console her. If she hadn’t been so upset, she would have found it funny. (This was her buddy Ash, full-time gamer and the school slacker.) But right now, Vale couldn’t even think beyond: We’re going to die here!
He stopped patting and squeezed her shoulder. “B-better?”
She cried harder.
“P-please, Vale—” With a groan, Ash pulled her into a hug. “I-it’s okay. Shhh … You’re fine.” The nervous patting stopped as his hand settled against her back. “W-we’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“B-but it’s raining, and there’s no fire, and—”
“It’s okay.”
Any other time, she would have been horrifically embarrassed by her outburst, but Vale was upset enough it didn’t even register. She was furious with herself for letting the ember go out. She was terrified by Ash’s hacking. And her thoughts of her parents and home had completely broken her heart.
“Shhh…,” Ash whispered. “Y-you’re okay.” The thunderstorm clamored around them as Vale’s choking gasps finally calmed. He let go of her and sat back on his heels. “You f-feel okay now?” he said.
“Yeah … a bit better.” She gave a teary laugh. “Given the crappy situation.”
He smiled, though the expression was anything but happy. “Th-that’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Vale waited for him to make a joke. Waited for the moment to end. It didn’t. Instead, Ash reached out and squeezed her hand. He smiled, but the expression made Vale’s heart hurt. “I-it’s going to be okay,” he said quietly, then let go of her fingers. “You are g-going to be okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“N-no idea.”
“But—”
“V-Vale, listen. Y-you’re my friend. My best friend, and w-we’re stuck here in this together.” He shrugged. “A-at least w-we’re not alone.”
“But we’re going to die!”
“N-not both of us,” he said. “T-tomorrow I n-need you t-to leave me here and—”
“NO!”
A bolt of lightning pierced the sky directly above the cave at the same time Vale screamed. It sliced downward, cutting into a nearby tree, the pink-purple bolt burning an afterimage into Vale’s vision. Thunder boomed. Pebbles rolled down from the wall, and the smell of smoke reached Vale’s nostrils. When she could see again, she bolted away from Ash’s side, banging her head on the ceiling.
“W-what’s wrong?” he asked.
“The lightning!” she said, pointing. “It hit a tree. It’s burning!” Vale whooped in excitement. “Fire!” she shouted. “We’ve got FIRE!”
* * *
Grant woke in the darkness to the sound of someone calling to him from outside the tent. “Warden McNealy?” the voice said. “You still awake?”
Amanda. He groaned and rolled over, fumbling for the lantern and flicking it on. I’m awake now.
“Yeah,” he grumbled, then cleared his throat. “I’m awake. What’s up?”
There was a long moment, filled with the sound of rain buzzing on the tent fly. “I just … I need to talk to you a second. There’s an issue.”
Grant fought the urge to swear. This whole search had been one problem after another, and their first solid clue—footprints leading to the southwest ridge—had arrived at nightfall, preventing the searchers from following them.
Grant unzipped the sleeping bag and shivered. It was getting colder by the hour. “A’right,” he said. “Give me a second. I’ll step out so we can talk.” He pulled on his jacket, then unzipped the fly to crawl out. Rain soak
ed his hair and wet his face a moment later.
Amanda, the pilot who’d seen the empty campsite from the sky, gave a wary smile as he appeared. “Sorry for waking you, Grant,” she said. “But it’s important.”
“What’s up?”
“I used the spotlight. Buzzed the valley walls, like you asked me to,” she said. “There was a bear on the southwestern side.”
Grant frowned. The team of searchers had spent more than three full days searching the mountains, sleeping in a rough camp each night so they could head out at dawn the next morning. Just before nightfall, Grant had found the clue he’d been looking for: a dropped plastic baggie snagged on the branches of a cinquefoil bush. It was located in the same brush-covered area where the searchers had found the remains of an elk. The bag was a clear sign of the two lost students, a sign that they’d come this way, sometime recently. The southwestern side of the valley was where the kids’ tracks went. That section of the mountain was their focus area tomorrow.
“Southwest?” Grant said. “You sure that’s where the bear was?”
“Yeah. There’s a number of game trails there. I saw the bear come out of the bushes as I was traversing the valley.”
Grant sighed. A bear in the area would make it much more risky. “Was it a grizzly or black?”
“A grizzly,” she said, her voice dropping. “And it was a big one.” She flinched. “I … think the sound of the rotors spooked it. It took off running when I was checking the forest there. Headed up over the ridge into the next valley.” She swallowed. “The ridge to the southwest.”
“Goddamnit. That’s where the kids’ tracks were headed.”
“I heard that.”
He rubbed his hand over his face, fighting the urge to yell. It wasn’t Amanda’s fault. She was doing what he’d told her to do, but it made everything worse. Bears at this time of year were getting ready to hibernate. They were owlish, ready to defend their territory at all costs. And grizzlies could be deadly if interrupted while feeding. It troubled Grant that they’d found carrion in the berry patch not far from here.
Amanda cleared her throat. “Sorry, Grant. I truly am.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “You did what you were asked to do. I’ll just be careful when I head out tomorrow.” He glanced into the darkness. “You see anything else while you were out there?”
“Sorry, no,” she said. “Too rainy to see much of anything.”
Grant frowned. “Prints aren’t going to last long in this mess. And if it snows…” He left the thought hanging.
“Well, I should probably let you get a bit more sleep.” Amanda gave a tired smile. “Dawn’s coming. You’ve got to rest.”
“You should get some sleep too.”
“I’m going to head back to Waterton tonight, refuel the chopper, and catch a few hours of shut-eye.” She touched his arm. “But I’ll be back tomorrow. All right? And if you need me sooner, you just radio it in.”
Grant nodded. “Thanks.”
“We are going to find those kids. There’s only so many places they can be, and if the boy’s injured, the two of them will be walking slower. They can’t be far.”
“Yeah, I just hope we find them sooner rather than later.”
“Me too.” Amanda nodded. “G’night, Grant.” And with a wave, she turned and walked away.
“G’night, Amanda.”
Grant watched her until she disappeared between the lines of tents, then crouched down to crawl into his own. He set the wet rain slicker aside to dry and wiggled back into his sleeping bag. He shivered. The night air was cold, his body tensed as if waiting for a blow. Eventually his legs thawed, and then his feet, and finally his body was warm once more.
Still, sleep eluded him.
He lay in the dark, staring up into the shadows. Got a bear in the valley, he thought. Need to tell the searchers to be careful … tell them to bring bear spray in case it comes back. Another thought flickered in the back of his mind, and he frowned.
Just hope that grizzly doesn’t run across those two kids before we get to them …
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Fear causes hesitation, and hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true.”
BODHI, POINT BREAK
DAWN ARRIVED, cold and rainy.
Grant climbed out of his sleeping bag into the icy embrace of another rainy day. There was no more time to rest. They needed to find those kids … fast. If he could locate the path they’d taken the day before, there was a good chance they could find Vale and Ash—possibly even this morning. If he couldn’t, then this afternoon’s snow would cover it and the trail would go cold.
Grant grimaced. Then we’ll have a real issue.
He dressed in the murky half light of the tent, anxious to begin. The tick tick tick on the tent flap announced worsening weather. Rain is already turning to sleet. Grant slid on his raincoat before gathering up his backpack with its survival gear, satellite phone, and signal flares. He and the other searchers were far outside the park now, but Grant carried no firearm. (He never did.) Instead, he double-checked the safety on his canister of bear spray and attached it to his belt.
He’d seen the bear scat and elk carcass yesterday afternoon and Amanda’s late night warning had confirmed it: They had a grizzly to contend with.
The rough camp had been made halfway up the slope; the ridge that led to the next valley a short jaunt beyond. Packed, Grant climbed out of the tent. Freezing rain soaked him immediately, and he began to shiver. Poor kids had to do another night in the open. Sure hope they had a fire. He raised his field glasses and squinted across the valley. It was light, but the clouds blocked any rays. Snow was starting to appear on the north side of the tree stumps and upper branches, rain sluicing across the ground. Each hour that passed scoured away the footprints that Grant was counting on to lead him to the lost teens. He wasn’t sure why they’d left their campsite near the lake, though he feared it had something to do with the bear.
Grant knew what had to be done. Find the southwest trail. Follow it to them. If they were alive a day ago, they could easily be alive today. He stared out at the ring of mountains that surrounded the search camp. Only one question remained: How far did they go? Best way to answer that was to get up high and look for smoke.
“You heading out already?” a voice asked.
He turned to see the teacher, Janelle Holland, up with the night crew. It struck him that she hadn’t slept.
“Yeah,” he said. “Going out now.”
“Can I come along too?”
Grant hesitated and then nodded. He could only imagine her panic to find her students. “Yeah,” he said. “But make sure you grab a bear spray before we go.”
“Bear spray?”
He nodded. “The helicopter pilot flushed out a grizzly last night. It’s headed the same direction we’re going. We need to be prepared.”
“Got it,” Janelle said. “I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes.”
“Make it five if you can.”
* * *
When Ash awoke, the world outside the cave was preternaturally calm. The torrential rains of the night before had eased into a steady patter, occasionally flecked by bits of sleet that caught on bushes and painted the forest floor white. He squinted into the gloomy morning half light and shivered.
Snow’s starting.
Ash pushed his good arm under him and tried to sit up, but the myriad pains in his body left him panting. He bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from screaming and shoved harder. Gravity shifted, and he tilted upright. Ow! Ouch! Not good! His damaged ribs flared to life. He wobbled, but, after a few slow breaths, held steady. Ash frowned as he took a mental tally of aches and pains. He felt worse than last night, and there was an unnerving gurgle in the bottom of his lungs that scared him.
Need to walk out of here. Need to get to the hospital.
It was cold, but Vale slept on. Upright, Ash used his one good hand to add wood to the fire. With the flames
growing, the cold that had leached into him overnight eased away. He glanced down at his friend, asleep a few feet away from him. She lay on her side, snoring, her breath slow and steady. Vale got us through this. She knew what to do. She—
In the bushes a stone’s throw from the cave, a branch broke. Ash looked up. His breath caught. “Oh God!”
A blondish-brown grizzly stood near the trees. Seeing Ash, the bear swung its head and a thunderous roar boomed through the valley.
Vale jerked awake. “Ash,” she mumbled. “What’s going on?” She struggled upright, pushing tangled hair from her eyes and standing. The grizzly turned.
Vale was now its target.
* * *
Grant and Janelle reached the top of the pass just after dawn. It was blustery, and fluffy white snowflakes interspersed the sleet.
“Where next?” Janelle panted.
“Not sure…” Grant frowned as he surveyed the scene that lay below them. There was no lake in this valley, no obvious path to follow. He crouched and searched the ground. The footprints they’d seen on the lower slopes were all but gone now.
“They came this way yesterday afternoon, right?”
Grant nodded. “Uh-huh. Least that’s my guess. Could have been earlier.” He frowned as he scanned the horizon. Just need a sign …
“That was when that big thunderstorm hit. Wasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, only half listening. Only need one little hint of where they went. A bit of garbage like we found yesterday. Some scat or a bit of blood.
“Vale’s a smart girl. I bet she tried to get them someplace safe,” Janelle said. “Someplace out of the rain, like a cave or—”
