by Rachel Lee
The path she left behind disappeared swiftly as water-filled grasses sprang right back up. When she hit the forest floor, it was a little spongy, but it, too, rebounded. Ten minutes later it would have been hard even for an experienced tracker to follow her trail.
She never dreamed that someone was following her, removing the trail markers and all other signs of her passage.
* * *
Craig stopped at headquarters to let Lucy know what was coming tomorrow. But Lucy diverted his news about the ATF almost immediately.
“Sky called. The signal was all broken up, so all I know is that she heard someone scream. I told her it could be a mountain lion, leave it alone and leave the area.”
“I hope she listened.”
“I don’t know. We lost signal again, damned if I know why. Probably a bad battery. I asked Don to go check on her, but he’s all the way to hell and gone because we lost another hiker. Most of our people are out there searching. Don said he’d head her way, though.”
Craig’s skin began to crawl with uneasiness. “Where are they looking for a hiker?”
“Up in Murfree’s Pass.”
“Great.” At the far end of the forest. “All right, I’ll check on her.”
Lucy half smirked. “I kinda thought you would.”
“Did anybody ever tell you that you think too much?”
Lucy’s laugh followed him out the door.
Dusty welcomed him gladly, and seemed more than ready to be tied again to the pickup. Making sure not to move too fast for the horse, Craig picked his way up the service road as quickly as he dared. Dusty trotted in the grasses alongside the road, beside the truck, tossing his head as if he enjoyed the clear, sunny day. After all that rain yesterday, he probably did.
“Damn, Dusty,” Craig said, “women cause a lot of trouble. You know that? No, how would you know that? They gelded you before you had a chance to find out.”
Dusty snorted but didn’t break stride.
“I mean, Sky is a grown, capable woman, right? So why the hell should I be worried? She went out to paint, the way she was doing before she even met me. She was doing just fine on her own without me. She even has combat experience and training, something most women don’t have. So I’m stupid to be all worried, right?”
Dusty didn’t answer. Of course.
“Just because something weird is going on over at Buddy’s doesn’t mean she’s in any danger. Hell, Don saw those guys playing their little games in the woods, but there’s absolutely no reason they should go beyond that, not unless they’re hunting for some serious trouble. Are they that stupid? I doubt it.”
Again no answer from his companion. Talking to a horse had its advantages, in that he didn’t get any back talk, but sometimes it was seriously unsatisfying.
Then he asked himself probably the most important question of all: Would he be nearly as worried about any of this if Sky weren’t in the equation?
The answer: no. Most definitely no. He had confidence in his ability to deal with damn near everything that life delivered his way. So why shouldn’t he give the same courtesy to Sky? She might not know the forest the way he did, but she sure as hell knew a lot of other stuff that could be useful, even out here. She was trained, damn it. She hadn’t just walked off a street like a lost lamb.
That settled him down some and he eased up on the pedal a bit, giving Dusty a breather. Not much farther now to where Sky usually parked.
Her car was still there. Good sign? Bad sign. He cussed, parked right behind her and got out to saddle Dusty. Dusty stood perfectly still for him, his flanks almost quivering in anticipation.
Craig patted him. “You like a good ride, don’t you?”
Of course he did. It wasn’t just running around and working off energy that Dusty liked. Craig had long since figured out that the horse liked feeling useful, too.
When he was sure he had everything, he mounted Dusty and headed along a narrow deer track that would take him to the place where Sky liked to paint. Overhanging limbs kept him from moving too fast, and his heartbeat seemed to increase with every little delay.
If Sky thought someone needed help, she wouldn’t hesitate. He was sure of that, as sure as he was of anything about her. She dove right in, wanting to be helpful and part of any solution. Wanting to protect. That seemed to be as strong in her as it was in him.
He hoped like hell that she’d listened to Lucy about the possibility she’d heard a mountain lion. They didn’t make the sound often, but he’d heard it on occasion: it sounded just like a man screaming, very different from their usual roars and growls. It could fool someone who hadn’t heard it before.
He worried, too, because an experience like Iraq seemed to burn most normal fears and cautions out of people. Well, of course it did. You had to do things that ordinary folks would never do. You had to learn to stifle spine-chilling fear in favor of action. And then it just seemed to burn out, as if you grew dead to it.
So she wasn’t going to stand there wringing her hands and she clearly hadn’t returned to her vehicle.
He swore quietly and watched Dusty’s ears prick. Leaning forward, he patted Dusty’s neck. “Not you, boy. Not you.”
It seemed like a lifetime passed before he reached the clearing, and what he saw jumped his concern into high gear. Her painting kit lay in the grass. Her radio was gone as was her tarp, and maybe some other stuff. She had evidently taken off to investigate the scream.
It was exactly what he would have done, so he couldn’t blame her.
From horseback he couldn’t see any signs of where she had gone. Dismounting, he scanned the area around her painting supplies and couldn’t glean anything either. Grasses full of water sprang back quickly, and on this slope the water had drained too fast to leave muddy ground that would record depressions.
He cussed again and reached for his shoulder microphone. “Sky? Sky, do you read?”
Atmospheric static answered him. He tried three more times before Lucy broke in. “I told you. Her radio’s out. They found that hiker, so everyone is heading your way now. Any idea which way she went?”
“None. It’s like she was beamed out of here.” That meant he needed to stay put until the others arrived. Coordination in a search was essential.
“She’s probably all right, Craig,” Lucy said almost gently.
He didn’t need gentleness, he needed action. “Yeah. But I’d like to see for myself. How long since she tried to talk to you?”
“An hour, maybe a little longer.”
“Hell.” An hour. Easy enough for her to have walked three or four miles in almost any direction. And with every minute he waited, she could be going farther. Or she could be coming back. Regardless, someone had to be planted right here until she returned or others arrived.
He looked at the sun, realized that in little more than an hour or so it would sink behind the western peaks, dimming the light, making it harder.
The only thing going for her right now was that he was certain she had good navigation skills. He didn’t know if she had a compass, but she knew how to mark her own trail so she could follow it back. All the military training would stand her in good stead, even if this turned out to be nothing but a stroll.
Damn, she must have been propelled by the sense that someone was in serious need of help, because he could count at least a dozen reasons not to go haring off alone in what might be a dangerous situation.
Then he remembered the gorge she had told him about discovering. That meant she had gone into these woods alone before. Maybe he needed to have a good talk with her about the dangers out here. This wasn’t Iraq and it wasn’t Tampa. Something as simple as a twisted ankle could kill someone who was out here alone.
Dusty started grazing on the greened-up grass and Craig squatted, waiting, using his binoculars, surveying the area all around for any sign of her passage, an indication of which way she might have gone.
He found nothing.
* * *
Damn. Well, to the gorge and no farther. Craig would probably have plenty of words for her about doing this solo, and she wouldn’t blame him. But she couldn’t ignore that cry, either. Mountain lion? No way. Somebody was hurt.
But she was also aware that she was no woodsman and had no illusions about her ability to find a single person in such a large area with such heavy growth. There was just so far she could take this. If she didn’t find anything by the time she reached the gorge, she was going to have to head back and hope that Lucy had summoned help.
She heard water rushing ahead of her now and realized she had almost arrived. She quickened her pace, intending to stand on the edge of the ravine and call loudly to see if anyone answered. The roar of the water, the river engorged by yesterday’s rain, would probably make it difficult for her to be heard even a few feet away, but she had to try it. Besides, she might see something.
She reached the edge of the ravine and put her hands to her mouth, calling, “Hello? Hello?”
The roaring water deadened the sound, preventing even an echo. Regardless, she tried a couple more times.
She was just about to turn around and head back when something caught her eye. It looked like orange fabric, the kind a lot of people wore in the woods so they wouldn’t be mistaken for a deer—probably a wise thing even when it wasn’t hunting season, given what Craig had said about poachers. She was willing to bet people tried to hunt all kinds of things out of season here.
She walked a few more steps to a place that looked like she could climb down without too much trouble. Turning around, she hooked the radio on her belt, then knelt and backed up until she could feel the edge. Lying on her stomach, she pushed back until she bent at the waist and could feel rocks beneath take her weight. She eased downward, feeling her way, sure there were enough protruding rocks to make it safely. It wasn’t that steep, after all, and getting down was always the hard part. Coming up was ever so much easier, although what she would do if she found someone in dire need remained to be seen. Well, there had to be easier ways out of here, and she could always go for help once she knew.
Her arms were over her head, clinging to the lip of the gorge while her feet felt for another place to support her. Just then, the rock she was hanging on to gave way.
She barely had time to realize she was falling. Her awareness filled with blossoming pain as she tumbled, hitting sharp rocks. Then she came to an abrupt halt. The pain that erupted in her leg turned the world black.
She passed out.
Chapter 14
Sky woke slowly, her head throbbing, but worse, when she stirred, she felt a warning grinding in the bones of her shin. Before she even opened her eyes she knew she had a broken leg.
She lay there, letting the waves of excruciating pain roll through her, hoping it wouldn’t put her into shock. She was in enough trouble now.
When at last the agony had become familiar enough that she wasn’t totally focused on it, she cussed herself for being a damned fool. What the hell had she been thinking?
Yeah, she had thought somebody was hurt. Maybe they still were, and now she was useless because she’d been stupid, stupid, stupid.
She should have guessed the rain could have loosened some of those rocks. She should have realized that any accident at all out here, with no one knowing where she was, might cost her her life. Even more damning, she had come out here without a working radio.
Wincing until her jaws hurt, she felt for the radio and tugged it off her belt. She keyed it and heard more static. Forcing her hand into the pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her cell phone. Even if there was no cell tower, maybe, just maybe they could pick up her GPS signal? But then she remembered that depended on a cell connection, too. Her phone hadn’t worked but once the entire time she’d been in these woods, and then only for a couple of seconds.
She made sure it was on anyway, then took in the rest of her situation. It was dark in this gorge because of all the overhanging trees, but the light was no longer green. Twilight was coming on, and soon after it, a very chilly night.
Pain notwithstanding, she needed to do something for herself and do it quickly. The only blessing she could see at the moment was that she hadn’t fallen into the water. Being dry might save her when the night chill moved in.
What the hell had she been trying to prove? And who had she thought she would prove it to? Craig? Herself?
She forced herself to dissect her own thinking, her own urges, in part because it distracted her from the pain in her leg that roared anew with every movement.
Even the act of sitting up was almost enough to make her pass out again. Breathing steadily, moving slowly, she propped herself on her elbows.
As long as she had some light, she needed to act. Splint the leg. Find some cover for warmth. Maybe some tree limbs to pull over herself. Maybe a niche in the rocks that would at least prevent all her body heat from escaping.
There had to be a way.
Looking around, she saw some dry tree branches. Probably brittle, but better than nothing. Unfortunately, they were about six feet away.
Turning over, even onto her side, seemed like a dangerous thing to do given the way her leg screamed at every movement. Using her good leg and her elbows, ignoring the agony, she pushed herself toward those branches while she tried to figure out what clothing she would sacrifice to tie the splint.
And wondered what the hell she had been trying to prove.
The answer that came to her was quite simple, though. She couldn’t ignore that scream. Alone or not, she had learned in tougher situations than this to rescue those who were hurt. How could the threat of the woods possibly compare to what she had faced in the army?
It couldn’t. So she had done the ingrained thing. She wouldn’t be questioning herself at all if she’d found someone who needed help.
Get on with it, she ordered herself. Just get on with it. If she survived this, there’d be plenty of opportunity to figure out whether she’d acted on training or for some other reason.
Pain exhausted her by the time she reached the scattered tree limbs. She lowered herself to her back, stared up at the boughs that darkened above her and sought some energy.
This was no time to flag.
Her groan was smothered by the rushing water as she forced herself to sit up and select some branches that might work. When she had found four of them, she pulled off her sweater, blouse and undershirt. Chilling air gave warning of the night to come. She quickly pulled everything back on except the undershirt, which she started tearing into strips. It wasn’t easy to get the rips started, but once she got them going, they tore freely.
Then, nearly blacking out, she leaned forward to move her leg until it was on top of one of the sticks with strips of cloth lying beneath it. Tying them in place was going to be just as bad. She bit her lip until it bled and set to work.
* * *
Night was moving in no faster than usual, but to Craig it seemed to be advancing like a speeding car. Various other rangers had appeared and set out to cover patterns on the search grid laid out on a map on a folding table. The helicopter overflight would probably have to end shortly. In these mountains the darkness and the dangerous drafts as day changed to night would make them useless.
Pretty soon he’d set out himself, once he made sure that everyone who arrived was assigned a grid section. He hated waiting here, he wanted to march off into those woods, but he grasped the fact that doing so would probably not be the best thing for Sky.
But with each passing hour he worried more. Her last contact with Lucy had been around midday, six hours ago. Even the long twilight wasn’t
going to be much help in a few more hours. Search teams would have to come back in when night settled. Time was running out.
For the first time in a very long time, he felt terror. He kept it tamped down by focusing on the demands of getting the search going, but he hadn’t been this afraid since his early military days. It dawned on him that of all the things that mattered to him, one of the most important was that Sky be alive.
He didn’t care that she’d be leaving in a few weeks. He just needed to know that wherever she went she was still breathing and healthy.
Every wish and want he might ever have had narrowed to that one simple thing: please let Sky be okay. He’d give anything, his own life, if it would help make that so.
It chafed the hell out of him that so far he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing except organize the search. Yeah, that was essential, but it left him feeling like a caged tiger.
Just when he least needed it, Buddy and his friend Cap showed up with another guy. Craig watched their approach stonily. He didn’t need this crap now.
But Buddy surprised him. “Hey, Craig.”
“Hey.”
“I hear that painter lady is lost in the woods hereabouts. Me and these guys, we came to help look.”
For a mere instant Craig felt gratitude. Then suspicion surged. Buddy maybe, but Cap, the guy on the terrorist watch list?
“Kind of you, Buddy.”
“It’s what folks do, right? I feel bad about yelling at her. Besides, I wouldn’t feel good about myself if we didn’t do nothing.”
Craig thought Buddy looked fairly sincere, but he wasn’t so sure about the other two. Especially since they were carrying those damn rifles.
“What’s with the firepower?” he asked point-blank.
Cap shrugged. “One of my guys got raked by a bear.”
