by Kathi Daley
“A lot of the businesses are boarded up until the spring, which I guess is true of a lot of towns in Northern Alaska. I suspect the summers are as nice as the holidays are. We just happened to come at the worst time of the year. Still, if it had been summer or the holiday season, we most likely wouldn’t have gotten last-minute rooms.”
“True,” I said as we walked into the pizza parlor to find the place deserted. Even the restaurant felt drab and dreary compared to when I’d been here two years ago. I hoped the food was still good.
After we ordered at the counter, we found a booth near a window and waited for the meat lovers pie to arrive. I shared memories of my trip to the little town two years ago and how this trip compared. Houston shared a similar experience he’d had after visiting a town in Northern Minnesota both during the holidays and during the winter after the holiday. It disappointed me that the town wasn’t nearly as enchanting as I remembered, but at least the food was as good as I’d envisioned.
After we ate, we walked back to the inn, where we picked up the truck. We’d decided to head toward the gas station to top off the tank, so we wouldn’t have to do it in the morning. We brought the dogs with us and planned to stop somewhere and let them run around before returning to the inn.
Once the truck was fueled and the dogs were exercised, we returned to our rooms. It was decided that Yukon and I would head over to Houston’s room through the connecting door since he’d already set up his laptop and laid out the maps he’d brought. The room only held a table where our maps were laid out, a bed, and a small sofa sitting in front of the gas fireplace. I was chilled from our exercise session with the dogs, so I decided to stand in front of the fire before addressing the real reason Yukon and I were here.
“Before I try to connect, let’s take a look at the photo of Laura,” I said. “I want to have her image firmly in my mind.”
Houston pulled up the file on his laptop. I walked across the room, looked at the laptop, and studied the image until I could pull it up in my mind.
“Okay. I’m going to lay down on the bed and try to connect. I’m not certain I can make a connection, but if I can, my main focus will be on confirming that the group is still in the same cabin they were in this morning. I’m not sure how long I’ll have. So far, my visits in this boy’s mind have been brief and abruptly cut off whether I’m ready to leave or not.”
“Just do what you can,” Houston said. “Is there anything I can do?”
I looked at him and considered the question. “Normally, I cling to Moose when I undertake a direct connection, but he’s not here. Would you lay down next to me? Don’t talk to me. Just let me hold your hand.”
“Okay,” he said, slipping his shoes off.
I laid down on the bed, and Houston laid down next to me. I closed my eyes and focused on an image of the boy Bella had described. I was pretty sure this boy was Jeremy, but I wasn’t certain of that, so I focused on his image and not his name. Not that he’d necessarily recognize his name anyway.
At first, I got nothing. Not a feeling. Not a vision. Nothing. I realized that my only chance was to keep at it, so I deepened my focus and tried to block everything else from my mind. Eventually, I was able to pick up a feeling. Fear. In addition to the fear, there was also a deep confusion. I noticed an uncertainty I really couldn’t identify. The boy seemed to be resisting my presence, so I changed my focus and tried to visualize Laura. That must have startled him because he let down his guard, and I slipped in. I quickly looked around. I was able to confirm that the cabin the boy was physically occupying was the same one I’d seen earlier that morning. That was something. It was doubtful they’d move overnight, so at least we had a starting point for our search tomorrow.
I looked around the room to see what else I might be able to see. The old woman was sitting in a chair. It was the same chair where she’d been sitting that morning. She wasn’t moving, but I supposed she might be asleep. It wasn’t late, but it was dark. The cabin was dark with the exception of a single oil lamp. I didn’t notice a pot on the stove or evidence of cooking, but perhaps the old woman had already fed the girls and cleaned up.
While I was trying to decide what I wanted to find out from the boy I was channeling, he seemed to look down the hallway. I was hoping he’d go and check on the girls so that I could confirm that they were physically okay and that a third girl hadn’t as of yet been taken, but something caused the boy to break the connection, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get it back.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying with my cheek on Houston’s chest. He had his arms around me and was hanging on tight. When we’d first laid down, we’d been lying side by side, but I supposed at some point, I probably called out, and he’d tucked me in tight.
I turned my head and looked up at him. My head was pounding, but his smile when our eyes met still took my breath away.
“You’re back,” he said, loosening his grip just a bit.
I nodded. I was pretty darn comfy and hated to pull away, but we had a job to do, so I sat up, and Houston followed.
“Did you see anything?” he asked after handing me a bottle of water.
I nodded, taking a long drink before I answered. “Not a lot. I wasn’t connected long, but I know that they are in the same cabin they were in this morning. The old woman was sleeping, I think. I’m not a hundred percent sure since she was sitting in the same chair that she was sitting in this morning, but she wasn’t moving, so I guess she was sleeping.”
“We’re you able to see the girls?”
I shook my head. “The boy only let me in briefly, and only after I visualized Laura. I think he was resisting me, but when I pictured her, I think it startled him enough that he let his guard down for a minute, and I slipped in. During my brief time in the boy’s mind, he didn’t move, so I wasn’t able to see the girls. I didn’t notice anything that was different from when I peeked in this morning, so I’m going to assume that nothing has changed. Based on his past movements, the man with the ski mask moves them when he takes a new girl, and since they seemed to have stayed put, I’m going to assume that a third girl has not been added to the mix yet.”
“He’s likely to make his move tomorrow,” Houston said.
“I agree. We’ll head out in the morning before dawn. The snowmobiles have headlights, and it’s supposed to be clear, so we’ll have the moonlight to help us. Hopefully, we can get all the way out to where the cabins are located around the time the sun comes up.” I flinched as searing pain penetrated my head. “I think I’ll call down for some brandy. This headache is worse than most, and I doubt I’ll sleep if I can’t get rid of it.”
“I actually have both brandy and aspirin,” Houston said. He got up and crossed to his suitcase. “I called and spoke to Jake before we left. I asked him what I could bring that might help you once we got started, and he said brandy and aspirin.”
I forced a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that you’re looking out for me. I took an over the counter pain medication earlier, but I wouldn’t say no to brandy.”
Once I drank the first glass of brandy, Houston poured me a second glass, and then we headed toward the table where the maps were laid out. I pointed to the place on the mountain where I was sure the cross left by an avalanche existed, and Houston overlaid the map of the seasonal cabins in the area. The cabins weren’t clustered quite as neatly as we hoped they’d be, but after taking into account things such as access to the road and the tree canopy, we settled on a search area. We weren’t sure how long it would take to make the drive and then the eventual snowmobile ride, so we decided to get up at six, and if we needed to wait for sunlight at any point, we’d simply stop and take a break.
We discussed taking the dogs. Both dogs were comfortable riding along as a passenger on the two-man snowmobiles. They’d both been trained as search-and-rescue dogs, and in snow country, they had the ability to settle onto the loud machines, which was a must. After a bit of discussion, we decided t
o take them. I wasn’t sure we’d need them, but I did know that they’d prefer to go with us rather than staying in the room, and their ability to sniff out a trail might come in handy once we reached the search grid we were heading toward.
Of course, all of this would be for naught if the group had decided to move. I really had no way of knowing what sort of plans the man with the ski mask might have, but I did find myself saying a little prayer that even if he planned to move, he’d wait until after we had the chance to catch up with them.
Chapter 11
When I woke the following morning, I was surprised to find that I’d slept through the night. I was happy to have had the added sleep but afraid that the reason I hadn’t had the dream might be due to the fact that the boy had been spooked by my showing up in his mind uninvited. I had to wonder if maybe he’d found a way to block me. I’d hoped that by bringing Laura to mind, I would be able to convince him to trust me, but I supposed that now that I’d had a chance to think about it, the image of Laura I conjured in our shared thoughts might simply have sent him running.
I didn’t suppose second-guessing myself at this point would do any good. All I could do was continue with the plan Houston and I had come up with and hope that it wasn’t too late to rescue the girls and catch the man who’d taken them. I wondered where the man with the ski mask went after he’d stashed the old woman, the girls he’d kidnapped, and the boy in the cabins I’d experienced over the past two weeks. Did he have a place to stay, or did he simply head into town and rent out a room?
I could hear Houston moving around in the adjoining room. It was still pitch black outside, but I knew, based on the readout on the bedside clock, that I needed to get up and going as well. Since I knew we’d be out in the elements for most of the day, I piled on layers of clothing. I began with thermal underwear and worked out from there with a lightweight yet waterproof layer, which I topped with ski pants and a heavy sweater. Once we arrived at our destination, I would add my snowmobile jacket, heavy gloves, snow boots, and a hat. For now, I simply piled my outerwear on the bed.
I knew that Yukon would need to go out, and he would need to be fed as well. I wasn’t sure what sort of plan Houston had for the dogs, so I knocked on the adjoining door. When he answered, I could see that he was dressed much as I was, although the dampness of his hair led me to believe he’d taken the time to shower, which I hadn’t. Of course, his hair would dry quickly, while my long thick hair would take quite a while, even with an electric hair dryer, and I knew that at this moment, getting on the road was more important than looking my best.
“Should we take the dogs out for a bathroom run and then feed them before we head out?” I asked.
“The gas station on the edge of town is open and will have coffee,” he said. “I thought we’d stop there, let the dogs run around, and then feed them while we have our coffee. The stop shouldn’t take long, but on cold mornings such as this, I really need hot coffee to get my blood pumping.”
“I’m glad you said that. I was actually thinking the same thing.” I glanced behind me. “I think I have everything I need.”
“Okay. Let’s load up the truck and head out.”
I grabbed my outerwear, and Houston grabbed his. We, and the dogs, headed down the empty hallway to the lobby, where we accessed the exterior door and exited into the parking lot. I could see that Houston had already made at least one trip down to the truck since the maps we were looking at last night were rolled up and stashed behind the back seat.
I glanced up into the starlit sky. Not a cloud in sight. I really, really hoped the weather held. There weren’t many things more miserable and potentially dangerous than snowmobiling when it was snowing heavily. Besides, given the dry conditions we’d had this past week, the snowmobile tracks made by the man with the ski mask and the group he was traveling with should still be evident once we made our way closer to the grouping of cabins we were heading toward. At least they should be evident if we were correct in our assumptions.
Once Yukon and Kojak had run around a bit and woofed down a healthy breakfast, the four of us resumed our journey. The road north out of town was only a gravel road, which, even when there wasn’t ice and snow to consider, provided a bumpy and often perilous journey. I knew that as long as Houston took it slow and didn’t lose his concentration, we should be fine, but even with my confidence in his driving ability, for some reason, I couldn’t quite relax.
“Did you dream last night?” he asked after we were underway.
“No.” I paused and looked out the window. “I haven’t decided if I should be worried about that. I think the boy might be feeling overwhelmed now that I’m a much more active participant in his thoughts. I think he might be intentionally blocking me.”
“Can he do that?”
“Sure. If the boy knows what’s going on, which I’m certain he does. The other alternative is that the dreams I’ve been having are linked to his dreams and based on his memories of recent events. That actually makes sense now that we know for sure that he’s here in Alaska and in the same time zone as me. If I’m having the dreams at three a.m., he is most likely asleep at that time of the day as well.”
“So an alternative to his intentionally blocking you is that he didn’t sleep.”
I took a sip of my now tepid coffee. “Exactly.” I thought back to our encounter. “He seemed really stressed when I connected with him yesterday. That may be because I initiated the contact and was intentionally trying to communicate with him, and he didn’t know what to do with that, but there might also be something more going on. Maybe the group is nearing the end of their journey, and he knows it. Perhaps he’s scared for Lily, or maybe he’s just sad because he knows she will be going soon.”
“So, do you think he’s in on the plan?” Houston asked.
“I’m really not sure. The boy knowing that Lily is leaving just seems like a logical stressor. I suppose it might be something else.”
Houston refocused on the road when we reached a narrow section that seemed to hug the side of a cliff with a sharp drop off. The section was short but intense since one wrong move could mean death for all of us. Once he cleared that section of the road, he asked me if I had thought about the best place to pull off the road and continue our journey on the snowmobiles. I wanted to look at the maps again, so I took off my seat belt, turned around, and leaned over the seat into the back. Of course, I realized after it was much too late that in doing what I had, I’d probably stuck my backside almost directly in Houston’s face. At least I had lots of clothes on, so nothing would have been too defined.
Once I had the map, I put my seatbelt back on and unrolled it on my lap. I looked at the map, and then I looked around at the landscape. “There’s a seasonal road that veers from this road and accesses the cabins in the summer. It won’t have been plowed, but I’m still hoping there will be some sort of indication as to where it is. Maybe this road will widen for the turn or something. It should be directly across from the cross on the hill, which we are close to lining up with, so I guess we should look for a widening of the road. Since we won’t be able to access the road, we don’t need to line ourselves up exactly, but it will provide a clear trail to follow if we can find it.”
“How far will we need to travel once we switch over to the snowmobiles?”
“Not far. Maybe five miles or so. If possible, we’ll want to stay out of the trees. If we lose sight of the mountain, it will be hard to keep our bearings, although my watch does have a compass, and I’m pretty good at finding my way using it alone.”
“Okay. Let’s try to find the road if we can. If we have to venture into the trees, we’ll be sure we get a solid compass reading first.”
Luckily, we did find the road that veered off toward the cabins, and the road did widen, providing a place to park. Not only did we find that the road was both cleared of trees and wide, but there were other snowmobile tracks that had packed the snow down to a degree. Due to their search-
and-rescue training, both dogs knew how to ride on snowmobiles, but since they hadn’t gotten much exercise the past couple of days, we decided to allow them to run along next to us for the first mile or until they got tired.
The snowmobile tracks that had previously been cut seemed to go in both directions, indicating that someone may have accessed the cabin and then returned to the road. In fact, I realized as I slowed and looked even closer that it looked like the road had been accessed by more than one machine. Either that or someone had gone back and forth more than once.
After a mile or so, we called the dogs up onto the machines. After a couple more miles, we stopped when we came to the spot where the tracks veered off in two different directions. I cut my motor and waited for Houston to pull up beside me and cut his. We both pulled off our helmets as the dogs jumped down and ran around a bit while we decided what to do.
“Which set of tracks do we follow?” Houston asked.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “The cabins should be straight ahead, but the tracks that veer off into the trees seem more recent.”
Houston hesitated before he spoke. “I suppose the recent set of tracks could have been made by someone out for a reason having nothing to do with the kidnapped girls.”
“That’s true.”
“We know the girls are in a cabin, and we didn’t see any cabins on the map this close to the main road, which makes me think we should just continue on the road.”
I glanced at both the tracks on the road and the tracks that headed into the trees. “The tracks that head into the trees travel in both directions, so someone has gone toward something in the forested area and come out. It might be hunters, but we are pretty far out. Let’s let the dogs choose.”
“Okay. I suppose that’s as good a plan as any.”
Once the dogs had been given their instructions, they set off into the trees, so Houston and I followed them. When the tree cover became dense, we were forced to travel single file. I went first, following the dogs, and Houston fell in behind me. We didn’t have to travel far before a cabin that hadn’t been on the map we’d been looking at came into sight. If anyone was there, they should have heard us, so I didn’t think it was a good sign that no one came out to see what was going on. We killed the engines and slipped off the machines. Houston pulled his gun, I accessed mine, we instructed the dogs to walk behind us, and then we slowly headed toward the front door.
