Mountain Refuge

by Sarah Varland

  Clay shook his head. “He may have misestimated. He’d have had to hike back down to the tree line for firewood and that may have taken longer than he expected it to.”

  Her expression made it clear she wasn’t comforted. “And he may have walked into some kind of trap.”

  Clay looked out the window. The sky was a cloudless blue. After taking so long to get to the Kenai, the summer weather seemed to be showing off for them. The early morning chill was probably gone too. There was no visible reason it should have taken Noah longer than he’d planned.

  But Clay wasn’t leaving Summer. That wasn’t even an option. And taking her with him back down the exposed ridgeline wasn’t a good idea in his opinion, either.

  “You’ve got to find him, Clay.” Summer had come up behind him and he turned to face her, already shaking his head.

  “I can’t, Summer. You’re my first priority.”

  She didn’t argue but her expression made her thoughts clear. Another stretch of time passed. Noah was now half an hour later than he should have been.

  “We’ve got to do something,” she muttered, looking at Clay with such a wide-eyed look of desperation that he nodded.

  “I’ll use the SAT phone and call the Moose Haven Police. Maybe they can send someone up just to double-check.” It would extend the circle of people who knew where they were, which was something they’d taken great care to avoid, but it was the best option he had.

  “Thank you.” Summer’s voice was quiet.

  Clay made the call, gave them the location where Noah should be and also called Tyler at the lodge to let him know. It didn’t seem fair for him to be kept in the dark.

  “Thanks, man.” Tyler’s voice was genuinely appreciative.

  “You’d do the same for me,” Clay said.

  “I would. You take care of my sister, okay?”

  “I’m not planning to let anything happen to her.”

  “I mean…I mean more than that.” Tyler sighed. “I’m trying to tell you if you want to pursue her, if you really do know everything that happened and you feel like you can treat her like she deserves, you have my blessing for what it’s worth.”

  Clay smiled. Maybe a little late considering that kiss, but he appreciated knowing his friend wouldn’t have a problem knowing he’d fallen in love with his sister. He’d truly only been trying to protect her. “Thanks, Tyler.”

  He hung up the phone and filled Summer in on everything except what Tyler had said about the two of them. It wasn’t the time for that.

  He noticed her looking out the window while he talked and finally asked her what she was looking at.

  “It’s so sunny…and yet, did you notice it getting hazier out there?” She sniffed the air. “And I smell smoke.”

  Clay shook his head. “I don’t smell anything.”

  She leaned closer to the window, then turned and walked to another one. “I’m sure, Clay. That’s where it’s coming from, the smoke. Look.”

  He followed her and looked where she motioned. There was smoke, billowing from somewhere just behind the cabin. Maybe from the cabin itself.

  Options seemed limited at that point. He ran through them, discarding them as he went. Bringing Summer with him to check out the fire was a bad option. Leaving Summer alone in the cabin was a bad option. Both of them staying in the cabin was a bad option.

  If this wasn’t an accident, wasn’t a patch of dry grass that had sparked somehow…

  The chances of it being a natural, accidental fire seemed slim. Lightning was rare enough in this part of Alaska, and when you added in the fact that the sky still had hardly a cloud, nothing that would indicate lightning…

  If the killer wasn’t out there, Clay had no idea what had happened.

  But if it was the killer, then he had them. Checkmate. Clay couldn’t let the two of them burn to death up there, knowing they hadn’t even tried to fight.

  “Okay, Summer, listen to me.”

  “This is really bad isn’t it?”

  She had paled and Clay grabbed both her upper arms, gently but with enough firmness to get her attention. “I need you to look at me. I need you to stay focused and I need you to be the amazing, tough mountain runner you always have been and conquer whatever this situation is becoming.”

  “Is he out there?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “But you’re going to go see.”

  He nodded as he removed his weapon from his holster. “I’m going to leave this with you.”

  “You can’t go out there knowing there may be a killer with nothing to fight with, Clay.”

  “I can’t leave you without anything, either.”

  “You have to. I’ve got bear spray, but you have one chance at eliminating the threat before it gets to me and that’s the goal here, right? I think that is the best option.”

  Clay nodded. He couldn’t argue with the facts she’d presented and all things considered it was probably the best choice of two less-than-perfect ones.

  “Stay in here. And stay safe.” He took one long look at her, wishing he could kiss her again but knowing that there wasn’t time. The smoke was growing thicker. And the threat was growing.

  He shut the door and walked onto the deck. The smoke smell in the air was thicker out there. He walked down the steps, awareness heightened, ready to respond to any threat he saw with his .45 out and ready to fire. He kept it angled down slightly at the ground as he ran around the side of the cabin. Nothing there, but yes, the cabin was on fire. Ironically it looked like it had started on the outside of the chimney on the back of the cabin. Clay moved his feet slowly, picking his steps with care as there wasn’t much room between the back of the cabin and the cliff off the back of the ridge.

  He looked at the fire. Too much to handle with the water they’d brought to drink, but he could try. Maybe use some dirt too…

  If all else failed, he’d get Summer and they’d head down the mountain as soon as possible. He’d run anywhere on the planet if he needed to, or hole up anywhere he could find if it would keep Summer safe. Either way.

  He just needed her to be okay.

  Clay turned to go back inside and alert Summer that possible threat or not, they were going to have to evacuate. But he hadn’t moved from where he stood before he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Someone.

  And before he could react, something hard hit the side of his head.

  *

  Clay was taking too long. There was no way around it and Summer was facing the truth. Noah was gone. Clay was gone. It was extremely likely that she was next.

  Summer paced the cabin, walked by another window and looked out. She didn’t see any signs that someone other than the three of them had been up there. Even the smoke could still possibly be an accident. Or, well, it could have been if both men hadn’t disappeared.

  At this point, Summer had very little hope that this wasn’t a very intentional setup.

  She needed a plan, that much she knew, but she had no idea how to go about coming up with one. Fight back. That was the best plan she had. Why had she insisted Clay take that gun? She hadn’t heard it go off, so he hadn’t used it.

  Summer had bear spray, but it sprayed in such a wide arc that she knew it would get in her eyes too, especially inside a room like this where it lacked the open air to disperse and she’d also be at the mercy of the superpowered mace.

  She looked around for something else she could use as a weapon. Anything else.

  And the door creaked open. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she closed her eyes and let out a breath of relief. One of them was back.

  But they didn’t say anything, and even though only seconds had passed, she would have expected Noah to immediately explain where he’d been and Clay to tell her where the smoke was coming from.

  Summer opened her eyes.

  The man in the doorway was backlit by the sun, but after she blinked a few times she figured out how the form was familiar and identifi
ed the only vaguely familiar face. “Wait…”

  “Hello, Summer.”

  “I know you.” She squinted, still trying to place him. “You work at Anchorage Outdoor Gear. Ryan, right?”

  He only stood and smiled as he gave a nod at his name, not moving an inch.

  “But why are you here? You’re not…you’re not…”

  But as he continued standing silently, that smile sending chills up Summer’s spine, she realized that yes, he was.

  As an employee of one of the best outdoor stores in Alaska, he’d had access to all of the women. They were outdoorsy types; they’d almost certainly all shopped at his store. And the reason she knew his name wasn’t just because of his name tag, he was also part of a Facebook group for hikers.

  Summer swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought to look, but she was sure now that if she got online and looked at the members, every one of the victims would be on the list. Many people posted photos of their favorite hikes, shared trail conditions.

  Whether he’d chosen his victims on that Facebook group or at the store, it made sense.

  It was him.

  “You’re the killer.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Clay had the worst headache of his life, but it was the least of his worries. He hadn’t gotten a look at the guy who’d hit him, but he was at least Clay’s size, maybe bigger, and in good shape. Summer wouldn’t stand a chance in a hand-to-hand fight.

  The side of his head where he’d been hit throbbed. He’d blacked out for a second or two, and then he’d opened his eyes but stayed still as the guy walked away from him. Clay had known that headache or no, he wasn’t fast enough to get past the man and get back inside to Summer first. So he’d have to let this man make it into the cabin and get distracted by Summer. It was the only chance Clay would have for taking him out. He was counting on the fact that this was the serial killer, and that since he had Summer alone he planned to take his time, like his usual MO, and not just immediately eliminate her.

  It was a risk, but it was one Clay had to take for Summer’s own good.

  Now he crept along the side of the cabin, listening. He heard Summer’s stunned voice as she realized the identity of the killer. She was quiet for a few seconds after that, and Clay wondered if she was figuring out how it had all worked, how the man had met her and the other victims. It was clear she knew him and he thought he’d heard her say something about an outdoor store.

  He took a quick glance in the window he was crouching under. Summer was standing at the rear of the living area of the cabin, her back to a wall. The man was at the door, barely inside.

  As far as Clay could tell, he didn’t have a firearm on him, but he wasn’t willing to bet their lives on that. If Clay chose the wrong time to attack him and this man did have a gun, everything would escalate too quickly for him to keep the situation under any sort of control.

  At least he had a gun he could use if he needed it, though he couldn’t in good conscience take the guy out when he was just standing there. But if it was clear he was trying to kill Summer, and Clay could get a shot…

  He felt his hip for his weapon. Closed his eyes tight and rubbed his head.

  The holster was empty.

  The killer must have taken it when Clay blacked out. Had it been longer than a second or two? But if it had, why had it taken so long for the other man to walk away from him? And why hadn’t he shot Clay?

  He knew he might not get answers to those questions even if the guy ended up in police custody. Sometimes there were no answers.

  Knowing the killer had Clay’s weapon changed the plan. Now he had to wait for just the right moment. He’d only have one chance.

  And if he picked the wrong time, they’d all end up dead.

  *

  “You’re on that hiking Facebook group, aren’t you?” She was surprised at how the question came without hesitation. Her voice wasn’t even shaking. It was like Summer was watching herself from somewhere outside her body. Shouldn’t she be too scared to speak?

  She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was terrified, sure, but she was also mad. How dare this man steal the lives of those other women? How dare he try to steal hers, both by trying to kill her and by making her too scared to do the things she loved and enjoyed?

  Really live.

  That was what she wanted to do. Really live. And she was sick of this man getting in the way of that. Tired of the lack of justice.

  “I’m surprised you figured that out.” The look of admiration he turned on her had an element of creepiness that did make goose bumps run down her arms, but she kept staring him down. Summer had no idea where this bolder version of herself had come from, but she felt more like the Summer she’d been before she’d run away with Christopher. Before…everything.

  But it wasn’t just that. She felt like a stronger, braver version of that woman.

  Is that because of You, God?

  She didn’t have time to wait for an answer to her quick prayer. She took a deep breath and stared at him. “So you watched people’s conversations to learn where they would be and found places to lie in wait for them.” She didn’t bother to hide her disgust and his expression twisted slightly. It bothered him that she was disgusted. Interesting.

  She’d stopped posting her favorite hikes on that site last year, stopped posting anything other than the occasional unlabeled picture after Noah found out and told her that it wasn’t safe to give complete strangers so much information. He’d said it wasn’t just because she was a woman who often hiked alone, but also that her name recognition played into it.

  She’d agreed and stopped posting.

  But it had apparently been too late. She’d already said too much.

  “So that’s how you knew where I’d hike.” She restated it, piecing the other elements they’d wondered about together in her mind as they came to her. “How did you know exactly where I’d be the other times? When you tried to run us off the road, when you shot at us…”

  He laughed. “GPS tracking really has come a long way.”

  Of course. The Anchorage Police Department still had her car, but as far as Summer knew they hadn’t been able to process it yet. She was sure they’d find the tracker, but knew that it wasn’t suprising that Moose Haven hadn’t been able to. They simply didn’t have the resources to scan for trackers electronically and the new ones were so tiny and so easy to hide that it wasn’t something they’d have been able to readily identify even in a thorough search.

  “How did you find this place?”

  He shook his head. “Small towns talk. It wasn’t too hard to find out your family owned more property than just the lodge.”

  She wanted to ask him about his background, to see if he had spent time in the military or hunting, the way Clay had suggested, to become such a good shot. But she didn’t know if it was better to keep him talking or to start trying to figure out exactly how she was going to get out of this alive.

  Because she had to get out alive. The edges of her eyes stung and she blinked, refusing to show any sign of weakness. She hated feeling like prey. Animals in the wild chose the weak ones, the ones with wounds to attack. Any sign of weakness attracted predators.

  While she didn’t for a second believe that this human predator had chosen his victims with any kind of logic—none of the women had done anything to deserve his fixation, his desire to see them dead—she still refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.

  Even if the thought of dying, of not seeing Clay again, made her throat tighten until she could barely breathe. She wanted to look into his eyes again, see him smile. Tell him that if she was going to live her life to the fullest, really live, then she wanted him in it. Tell him she loved him. Hoped that maybe she’d hear the words back.

  Where was he? Understanding hit her hard. There was a good chance he was dead. Though she hadn’t heard gunshots, there were many ways to kill someone, and if Clay was alive he wouldn’t let her face this man a
lone.

  God, help him please. Don’t let him die. Or me.

  She turned her attention back to the killer. Frowned a little as a thought crossed her mind.

  He was wounded somewhere, wasn’t he? Summer knew Clay had hit him with one of his shots only a few days before, which meant Summer had that on her side. If she could figure out where it was.

  “You’re going to die today, Summer Dawson.” He moved toward her slowly, catlike in the way he prowled along the edge of the room toward her rather than walk straight in her direction. She shivered, not liking the feeling that she was being toyed with.

  Of all the ways he’d tried to kill her, this one, this up close and personal slow death, was her least favorite.

  And Summer wasn’t going out like this.

  She took a deep breath. Watched him. His right shoulder. Was it her, or was he holding that oddly, like he was more conscious of it? Could that be where he was wounded?

  She waited as he walked toward her, prayed he’d continue circling her rather than stop in front of her. She glanced down at her foot quickly, then back up at him, calculating exactly where she’d need to kick to hit him the hardest.

  He shifted his weight to the left, exposing his shoulder perfectly.

  Summer kicked fast and hard. He yelled.

  Seconds passed in a blur, flashes of activity catching Summer’s attention. The man’s screams, him clutching his arm. Footsteps, coming from somewhere.

  Then Ryan was on her, grabbing her arms, rage evident as he channeled all his strength into fighting her. Summer tried to fight back but he was enormous compared to her. For an instant she felt like she understood what had gone through the heads of the women who had ended up dead at Ryan’s hands. Fighting was useless. Futile.

  But no, it was the only choice she had. She struggled, punched him in the nose, kneed him like she’d seen Sandra Bullock do in a movie once.

  He shoved her hard against a wall, and then advanced toward her. Summer stood tall, readying herself for whatever blow was coming next but knowing she couldn’t take many more. She could already taste blood on her lip.

  The front door slammed open.

  Clay was there. Within seconds he was inside, taking Summer’s place and drawing Ryan’s attention to himself. The two men were fighting and Summer backed away, experiencing the first small taste of freedom and glimmer of hope she’d felt since Ryan had burst into the cabin. She watched the men fight, wondered how she could help Clay. He was hurt. He had a long, deep gash on the side of his head. She winced—he’d been hit by something. A rock? That could explain why he hadn’t come back when he should have and why she hadn’t heard anything.