If I shot now, I’d hit a tree.
He stopped and looked around him. He was still behind the stump. His breath had lost the ragged, desperate edge, seemed more even and calm. He was regaining his strength.
“I’m wearing a bulletproof vest, so you better be sure where you hit.”
I choked back a gasp, my finger slipping from the trigger. I lifted my eye away from the scope, taking in the wider image. He was staring up into the trees, then scanning the ground, peering into the shadows. “Let me guess, you have traps set. Little surprises for me? It’s the only reason you’d stick around.” He aimed his gun to the left, then swung far to the right, and gave a low laugh. “Which one of us will break first, you think?”
I’d have to try for his head. But he was moving, ducking behind a tree, then sliding to the next. Only the top of his black cap showed, then a flash of skin. If I took off running again, he would follow, but he might not pass directly over the dirt pit. My second surprise.
I stepped out from behind the tree, holding the rifle in one hand, and pointing it down. It was risky but I didn’t think he’d shoot me—at least not right away.
“You win.”
He slowly stood, his firearm raised, and glanced over my body. “You’re giving up.”
“I can’t…” I pressed my hand against my chest. “I think I broke my ribs.” I staggered, sinking the gun barrel into the earth like I was so weak I had to use it for support.
“Throw the gun away from you.”
I lowered it the rest of the way to the ground, gave it a little kick that sent it sliding.
He eyed me. “You carrying any knives?”
Should I lie? He might search me. I lifted the tail of my shirt and tossed my knife.
“Turn out your pockets,” he said. “Pull up your pant leg.”
I hated giving up the knife strapped around my calf, but I had no choice. I tugged it free and threw it near the first one.
“That it?” he said, eyeing me.
“Yeah.” If he didn’t fall into the pit now, I was as good as dead. I took another struggling breath, rubbed my wounded arm over my mouth so it would look like I was bleeding.
“My lung,” I wheezed. “I think I punctured my lung.”
“Stand here.” He motioned with the gun to a spot in front of him. The pit was between us. I’d have to walk closer, then stop so that he’d come the rest of the distance. I stumbled forward. It wasn’t fake—my legs were weak and cramping from the run. I stepped onto the dirt, and when I thought I was near the edge of the pit, I rolled my eyes back into my head and dropped.
“Goddamn it.” Footsteps running toward me. I’d landed on my side, couldn’t see him. I kept my breathing shallow, waited for the sound of the branches snapping. He was only a couple of feet from me. Why hadn’t he fallen yet? Was I in the wrong spot? Then, finally, everything shifted and slid—but the ground was breaking around me. I was too close to the edge. I clutched at roots, felt his large body hit the back of my legs, and then he was grabbing at my ankles as he went in. My hands slipped from the roots and I fell with him, clods of dirt raining down upon us.
He landed beside me, then rolled so he was sitting on top of me, with his arm across my throat—just enough pressure to hold me still. If I moved, I’d choke. His head blocked the sky.
I clawed at his face. He swung his gun across my forehead, bolts of pain and white lightning behind my eyes. I sagged.
“Freeze!” The voice came from above. Male. Another cop. Maybe Thompson. The arm lifted from my throat. I gulped air. My head was pulsating, the ache stretching around and squeezing like it was filling with blood.
“You’re under arrest for assaulting an officer.” Vaughn was still astride me and breathing hard. He looked over his shoulder. “I found Hailey. She just tried to kill me.”
“No!” My voice came out husky, winded. “He’s lying.”
Metal noises. Vaughn was undoing his handcuffs. He turned me over, rough and fast, so fast that my face slammed into the dirt. He snapped the cuffs on one wrist, then the other.
I wanted to argue, wanted to explain to Thompson, but Vaughn yanked on my arms, his knee digging into my hamstrings. I cried out, and my mouth filled with dirt. He gripped me under my shoulders. Thompson leaned over and lifted me out—Vaughn pushing from behind. Thompson laid me on my stomach. Noises behind me. He was helping Vaughn out of the pit.
I turned my head. They were standing a couple of feet away. “Don’t leave me alone with him. He shot my dog—Beth ran away. They need help!”
Vaughn shook his head. “Hailey faked her disappearance. Jonny was probably in on it. Beth found out somehow. I had a hunch she was lying about what happened with Mason, so I followed her up the mountain. When I confronted Hailey, she stabbed me.” Vaughn pointed to his thigh where the blood was seeping through his pants.
“It was self-defense!”
Vaughn looked at Thompson. “I’ll take her in.”
“I’ll do it,” Thompson said. “You’re hurt.” Thompson reached down and pulled me up by my waist, helping me to my feet. I staggered from the sudden rush of blood to my head.
“You have to believe me. He beat me up.”
Vaughn snorted. “Convincing, isn’t she? That’s how she got me into her trap.”
“You should’ve called for backup.”
“You telling me procedure, Thompson?” Vaughn’s voice deepened. The two looked at each other for a long moment, then Vaughn nodded. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“It was me. I phoned you.” I twisted to face Thompson. The words rushed out. “He was taking photos of me—not just me. Other girls too.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Vaughn stepped forward, but Thompson moved in front of me. Vaughn got right up close to him. “What do you think you’re doing, Officer?”
“Protecting the witness, sir. You’re out of control.”
“I’m out of control? What do you call defying a senior officer? Go ahead and report me, destroy your career. I’ll have you working a desk if you’re lucky.” Vaughn moved around to grab me, but Thompson quickly rotated us so that I was still behind him.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.”
“Tell me you aren’t believing this shit! She’s delusional.” He gestured around the woods. “She’s been living like an animal. She needs a psych evaluation.”
“I don’t know. Her story makes sense. I’ve been watching you, Vaughn.”
“Is that so?” He was so close he was almost nose-to-nose with Thompson. The muscles in his neck were tight. He smelled of sweat and blood.
“You’re threatening me?”
“I don’t make threats.” He shoved Thompson in the chest, sending him stumbling backward. Thompson let me go, and I fell to my knees, off balance. Thompson launched himself on Vaughn, grabbing him in a bear hug, tackling him. They rolled around, grappling for Thompson’s gun.
I got to my feet and ran awkwardly over to my gear, my hands cuffed behind my back. There, one of my knives. A shot rang out. They were still struggling. I couldn’t tell if one of them was hurt. I dragged my foot over the knife sheath, trying to get the knife out.
“Get your hands up.”
I froze, but Vaughn wasn’t looking at me. Panting, nose bleeding, he was standing over Thompson and pointing a gun at his head. Thompson’s lips were slick with blood, a cut open on his cheek and one above his eye. He slowly put up his hands.
“Vaughn. Don’t do this. You’ll go to prison for years.”
“They’d have to prove it was me first, Thompson. I’ve got a crazy girl.” He gestured at me with his head. “And while she was resisting arrest, she got my gun from me.”
“I already started a report on you—I knew you were dirty. There’ll be questions.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can make them go away. You think you’re the first person to try to bring me down?” He cocked the hammer. “Sorry it had to work out like this, Thompson.”
CH
APTER 39
Beth
Beth slid one arm under Wolf’s stomach, the other around his back end, then hoisted him up into her arms and half staggered, half ran into the woods. She wove through the trees, hoping they blocked her from view. She searched the shadows ahead for the bluffs. Was she close? She’d gotten disorientated. Everything looked the same. Wolf whimpered, then turned silent, his body quivering. Scared he was bleeding out, Beth stopped behind a cedar, and eased him to the ground. When she reached for his side, he snapped at her, his teeth clicking together. She yanked her hand back and tugged her shirt over her head, wrapped it around his snout.
“Stop it. I’m trying to save you.” He growled and struggled but he couldn’t open his mouth. She gently pressed her fingers across the fur on his side, and at his muffled yelp, she knew she’d found the source of his pain. She spread his fur with one hand, found the long, deep gash, and cringed. Blood. Torn flesh. She took a steadying breath.
“It doesn’t look bad. You’re going to be okay.” She had no idea if he was going to be okay but figured it was a bad time to explain to him that she didn’t know anything about injured dogs.
Beth unwound the bandanna from her hair, wrapped it around his midsection, and applied pressure. Over her ragged breathing, she tried to hear where Vaughn and Hailey had gone, but she couldn’t make out any noise. She hoped Hailey was okay.
“Okay. We can do this.” Beth hesitated, then loosened Wolf’s muzzle. When he didn’t bite her, she loosened it more so he could pant, then scooped him up again.
She looked at the sky, trying to track the position of the sun, but she couldn’t see it through the canopy of trees. She kept going, slowing to a walk. Wolf’s body was getting heavier by the minute, and her shoulders and back ached. She adjusted Wolf’s weight and he let out a whine, a sad sound that stabbed her ears. Her arm felt damp where his back leg was resting. He was still bleeding. She pushed on, stumbling through the brush. She heard rushing water.
The trees thinned and she broke out of the woods at the edge of the river. She’d gone in the wrong direction. She looked up and down the shore. No sign of Hailey or Vaughn. She crouched and set Wolf down, one reassuring hand on his back. She sucked in some breaths.
The river looked shallow in that section, rocks visible under the water, light patches of sand. Where were the bluffs? They should be upstream. She remembered the wide pool, the cliff, the steep bank. Maybe if she was out farther into the river, she could see around the bend.
“Hang on, boy. I’ll look and come back for you.” Wolf whined, struggled to his feet, and took a few hobbling steps. “Stay.” She held her palm out like she’d seen Hailey do.
Wolf halted, but his eyebrows were furrowed, his ears flat. She took a few cautious steps into the water, gasping at the cold. She glanced over her shoulder. Now Wolf was standing on a rock, his back leg lifted with only the toes touching, that whine still leaking out.
The stones were slippery. She waded slowly into the icy water, placing each foot carefully, arms spread for balance. When she got closer to the middle, the undercurrent began to push against her knees. She shielded her eyes from the sun, scanned the bank upstream, then down where it ran deeper—and, judging by the white froth, a lot faster. In fact, it looked like it went through a gorge. She turned to check on Wolf and realized he’d followed her into the water.
“No. Stop!” She held out a hand. “Stay. Good boy.” But he was still trying to get to her, awkwardly hobbling on three legs as he scrambled over a rock. She made her way toward him, lurching through the water. “Stay!” He barked, four frustrated yelps.
She was close enough now to reach and touch his snout, while trying to make some sort of sound that would soothe a dog, but she’d extended herself too far. Her left foot slipped from its boot, lodged between two rocks, and her ankle twisted. She landed on her side in the water, going under. She lifted her head, coughing and gasping. She grabbed at rocks, struggling to get to her feet, but the current was too strong. It pushed her downriver like she was on a slide.
Wolf hopped toward her, barking wildly. The water picked him up and now he was swimming, his paws scooping at the water. He was being rushed past her.
She lunged and hooked her arm around his neck. He turned his body. Then she realized he was pulling toward shore—and he was a strong swimmer. Maybe they had a chance.
She kicked with Wolf, using her free arm to plunge into the water and propel them forward. The water was running too fast and so cold her legs were numb. The shore became trees, then rock as they floated past. They’d reached the high rock bluffs of the gorge.
They were going to go through the chute.
* * *
The rapids bounced them up and down and she held on to Wolf, both of them trying to keep their heads above water. They went under a couple of times, but she clung to his neck, and they surfaced again. Once, when they were caught in a whirlpool, he was wrenched from her arms, but when they circled around, she got hold of him.
They spun through the gorge, cliffs forming jagged walls, until it opened into a wide pool. Logs hung over one side, and she reached for the branches as they were carried underneath, but the wood was brittle and broke off in her hands.
Her kicks grew weaker and her teeth chattered. She thought of hypothermia. How long did it take? Maybe it was already happening. Wolf was barely paddling. They were floating, spinning helplessly, bobbing. She stopped fighting, wound her hands under Wolf’s bandanna, and hoped that if she passed out she wouldn’t drag him to his death.
When she heard gunshots, she jerked and floundered in the water, twisting her head around so she could see the shore. Wolf also began to thrash, his paws slapping the surface.
She spotted a tree hanging over where the river narrowed. The branches drooped into the water like a net. If they kept at the same speed, she might be able to arc toward it and latch on. From there it was only a few feet to the shore.
Too fast or too slow, and they’d miss what might be their last chance.
“Come on, boy!” she shivered out of her cold lips. “Go!” She sliced at the water with her free arm, touched a rock with her foot, and used it to push them forward—powering all her muscles and energy into that singular moment. Wolf must have heard the desperation in her voice because he was leaping forward like a horse in the final moments of a race. The tree was within reach.
Beth’s body was aimed in the right direction, fighting the undercurrent that still wanted to yank them farther into the depths. She could make out each branch, and now she noticed a large rock under the tree. She reached up—her hand touched the branch. She held on tight, got her feet onto the rock, then pulled the rest of her body up with one arm. Her other was still grasping Wolf’s bandanna. He was in the water, clawing at the rock, eyes frantic.
“Stop!” Either he lost strength or he understood, because his body relaxed, and he was now floating. She locked her arm around the branch and used the other to haul him up beside her onto the rock. Without any sort of thank-you, he clambered over her, jumped from the rock into the shallow water at the shore, and limped onto the sand. Then his adrenaline must have given out, because he collapsed onto his side, tongue lolling and ribs heaving.
Beth followed, sliding off the rock and wading over to him—then sank onto her knees. He whimpered and snapped his head around when she bumped against his hind leg. The cold had stopped his bleeding, but the gash was big. His leg quivered when she ran her hand down it, and he licked her arm. She looked up into the woods as she rubbed her own leg with her other hand, trying to get her circulation going. No more gunshots. What did that mean?
Wolf watched her face as she got to her feet, stumbling as the blood rushed back to them. Her clothes were stuck to her body, hair roping across her face.
She held up her hand. “Stay.”
Wolf rested his head on his front paws, his eyes still watching her intently, but it was clear he was exhausted, and his sides heaved. Beth staggered in
the direction of the gunshots, her eyes scanning the forest. She took a trail that ended in a wall of trees. When she turned, a breeze drifted under her nose. A faint scent. Something familiar. Gasoline?
She pushed through the bushes and found a red gas can and a dirt bike.
The second escape route. She had to be near Hailey’s lower camp. Beth crept forward and peered down into a gulley through a gap in the trees. She caught sight of Hailey below in a small clearing—her hands cuffed behind her back. Some sort of standoff. Vaughn was looming over Thompson with a gun.
Beth’s only weapon was the dirt bike. She thought fast. If she pushed the bike through the trees, she could start it when she was coasting down. It would distract Vaughn.
It sounded simple, but the bike was heavy, and her muscles were weak. By the time she reached the gap in the trees, Thompson was on the ground, his face bloody and his hands above his head.
Vaughn stood over him.
A deep breath, and she pushed off. The bike was huge, and she almost crashed when it rolled over a root, the tire jumping. She dropped one foot onto the ground, careened dangerously to the other side, and corrected it at the last moment.
Thompson, Hailey, and Vaughn looked up as she hurtled through the brush. Vaughn’s arm swung in an arc and he aimed the gun at Beth. She hit the ignition switch. The bike roared. The front wheel lifted, and she shifted her weight forward. She shot down the hill.
Thompson kicked Vaughn in the crotch. Vaughn bent over with one hand between his legs. He lowered the gun, but it was pointed at Thompson again, who was trying to roll away.
Beth was almost at the bottom. Only a few feet away. The front tire of the bike hit a dip, launching her off the seat. But she kept her grip on the handlebars and aimed the bike at Vaughn, and felt the thud of his body being crushed underneath. The bike flipped. She was flying. Flashes of trees, sky, then she hit the ground, sliding forward on her stomach. Breath rushed out of her lungs, dirt filled her mouth, and her teeth snapped together. She had a final second to remember the doctor’s warning about another concussion before she swung her arm up to protect her head and slammed into a rock.
Dark Roads Page 31
