Jackie unzipped both backpacks and tilted the bags so the openings were facing them.
“What are you doing?”
“Zippers can be reflective, and we might need something,” she whispered back. She grabbed a pair of pants and slid them underneath her like a seat cushion. Another reminder her attire wasn’t as equipped for the elements as his.
The wool blanket on top caught his eye. He made quick work with his pocketknife and cut two wide strips. “Wrap around your face and hair. Hurry.”
The men were yelling. He kept the makeshift scarf off his ears and strained to hear.
“He’s armed.”
“We might’ve hit him.”
“I’m not walking in there and making it easy for him to shoot me if we didn’t. Is the girl armed, too?”
Jackie reached for his hand as if silently asking if he’d heard the danger nearby. He squeezed in response. Right now they needed to stay utterly still. The high beam swept across the trees. Jackie closed her eyes and tilted her head ever so slightly so all that faced forward was the gray wool blanket. Besides the added warmth, it hopefully made for good camouflage. A good idea, but Shawn needed to remain upright to see what was coming. He squinted through the thick pine needles. He could see movement, but not clear pictures.
Coyotes sounded in the distance, closer than before. An unbidden shiver ran up his spine, shifting the needles ever so slightly. The animal noises kept him from hearing the rest of what the men said. A flashlight beam shifted their way, reflecting off all the snow and shiny needles surrounding them. He held his breath and squinted but forced his eyes to stay open. The beam moved away.
The crunching of snow retreated and Shawn exhaled. Using slow movements, he carefully unholstered his gun and laid it on his lap for quick access. They may have narrowly avoided being shot, but they’d lost their only shelter. A wind gust shook the trees and dumped snow on top of his wool-covered head as if in response.
“Think they’ll be back?”
“I’m sure they will. If they’re smart, they’ll return in the morning. They might even post men to watch the tree line closest to the road.”
“That’s not encouraging. Does that mean we should keep moving?”
“No, the risk outweighs the potential benefit. But we need to beat them by getting out of here at first light.”
Morning couldn’t come fast enough.
SIX
The minutes passed at an excruciating pace until the motors had revved far enough away that she felt it was safe to move. Shawn twisted to look into her eyes. “We should stay here until the sky lightens, and then get moving before they come back for a second look.”
Logically, the verdict made sense, but she itched everywhere. The wool kept her face from feeling like an icicle, but she’d never been a fan of scarves over the nose and mouth. “It’s your turn to sleep,” she said. A quick glance at her phone showed the time as just past two in the morning. “I got several hours and I’m wide-awake.”
He frowned and she geared up for an argument, but instead he handed her the Taser. “Wake me up if you see anybody.” He leaned against the mound of dirt and closed his eyes. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep, as the rocky headrest had to be the most uncomfortable surface that—
His deep breathing fell into a pattern, instantly proving her wrong. Shawn had stayed awake for almost five hours with the silence and cold as his only companion. She didn’t know how he’d done it without falling asleep himself.
She gingerly stuck her hand into the open backpack, taking care to be quiet but hoping to find something that would help them reach civilization fast or at least keep her awake. She trusted Shawn would be able to lead them to the archaeologist’s trailer. Eventually. But she also knew the painstaking work of mountaineering. It wasn’t an exact science.
She slid her hands underneath the backpack’s contents and then into each pocket of the pack. Her fingernails brushed against something that crinkled. She cupped her hand around the flashlight on her phone so the beam wouldn’t be strong enough to wake Shawn or be spotted outside of the trees. The paper seemed to be a brochure of some sort.
Carefully she unfolded the crude map onto her lap. Even with map-reading skills, she had a hard time making sense of what looked like a homemade document. Most of the map had been colored yellow, with a few black lines curving back and forth and across the paper. Those, she assumed, were roads. No elevations, peaks or legends could be found, not even on the backside. There was a rectangle in the middle with the word Avoid written inside it.
Above the warning was a hand-drawn pond—or maybe a lake, since she had no reference for scale. Trees surrounded it. Above the stick-figured trees, a green section filled the rest of the map. A crooked drawing of a square and triangle, vaguely resembling a house, had the penned words New hut, between yellow and green sections.
The quality of the map led her to believe the detectorist had created it. Perhaps the document was evidence and could help investigators retrace his steps. When her eyes couldn’t handle the strain of studying the details in the dim light, she returned the map to the bag.
She rechecked the backpack before zipping it. A sliver of shiny aluminum caught her eye, sticking out of a pocket she hadn’t noticed in the dark. Inside, she found a brand of hand warmers she’d never heard of before. Regretfully, she left them where they were. There was no guarantee when they would have warmth again, and they might need them later if the temperatures dipped even more. She shivered at the thought.
Once her phone was put back away, she forced herself not to keep checking the time. The sky gradually lightened. A hoot of an owl nearby caused Shawn to stir.
He pulled his scarf down and groaned. “We survived the night. I guess that’s something.”
“Two hikers were rescued today.” She used her best newscaster voice. “When found, one remarked, ‘We survived. I guess that’s something.’” He didn’t return her teasing smile, though. “Sorry, I’ve been told I’m a morning person.”
“You speak in news bites now, huh?” He stretched his arms upward. “That’s new. The ‘morning person’ part I remember. Should serve you well today. The faster we get moving, the faster you get rescued.”
Every muscle ached as she turned to climb out of their tight quarters. She pulled down the edge of the scarf ever so slightly. To the east, the night sky had lightened enough that they could see the snow-covered trees with the stars still twinkling from up above.
“First light,” she murmured. The half hour before sunrise had always been her favorite when she’d gone camping with her dad. They’d been the two early risers of the group while Eddie and Shawn inevitably slept until roused.
Those had been the best moments in the wild. Experiencing utter stillness and calm—before the birds sang a single note—heightened the beauty and majesty of nature. In turn, she’d always felt closer to God when surrounded by nothing but His creation. Although for the past few years she’d preferred a civilized version of it...like at a zoo or a resort.
Each step in the snow sharpened the fear that the gunmen might appear at any moment. Shawn took the same care in his steps for a minute before attacking the ground with a little more gusto. “If last night was any indication, we should hear them coming.”
They struggled to find a pace that wasn’t too fast—if they started sweating, their clothes would get damp, a sure recipe for hypothermia—or too slow so they’d never make it to the trailer by nightfall, or worse, before the storm hit.
“I really should’ve let someone know I was going to the wedding so they’d know to be looking for me.”
She imagined her family getting all dressed up in a few short hours, probably taking family photos without her. Twin Falls, as most would assume, was an unlikely place for a reality star to choose as his home base. But her dad had wanted his children to grow up as close to
the wilderness as he had, while her mom wanted to live in a city. The compromise resulted in Twin Falls, a growing town surrounded by unique outdoor terrain with beauty on every side.
Her dad may have grown up camping and hiking, but his real love for survival skills had come during his time as an air force helicopter pilot. Wolfe Dutton never recounted stories from those days, not on his television show nor in real life, but her mom had once confided that he’d rescued many people, some who’d got into danger because they didn’t know how to rescue themselves.
Jackie supposed that was what drove him to teach others his survival skills. When his show became a sneak hit, he started his own production company, whose first big purchase was a multimillion-dollar used helicopter that sat fifteen people. He could take his entire production crew out to the most remote areas. Too bad he wasn’t in the area filming now.
She stayed in Shawn’s footprints, directly behind him. They were both out of breath, which would make them sweaty, and their clothes would get damp. “And then you die,” her dad would say. Her dad could take the mildest of decisions to prompt a story that ended with “and then you die.”
“The trek would go a lot faster if we had snowshoes of some sort.” The clouds gathering far in the west, low and thick, seemed ominous. She didn’t know how long the weather front would take to reach them, but it seemed in their best interest to hurry.
Shawn kept trudging until he stopped in front of a tree. He pulled down his scarf and a slow smile spread across his mouth. “Doesn’t hurt for Bigtooth Maple to be pruned in the winter.”
She didn’t need an explanation to know his intent. She picked out branches that were roughly three feet long and flopped them on the snow with the edges pointed upward. Shawn glanced at her choices and picked ones similar. “You’re good at this,” he said.
“Not really. Certainly not as good as my dad.”
They worked in silence until they both had groupings of branches tied to the bottom of their boots. This time they were able to continue walking without sinking so much. The strain on her muscles, though, was no small thing.
Shawn opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head.
“What? What were you going to say?”
“Is that the real reason you stopped wilderness trekking? Because you weren’t as good as your dad? No one can expect to be at his level unless they’ve lived his life. And even he couldn’t anticipate every fall or danger around the corner, even with a map.”
“Kind of like how you can’t control people or their mistakes, even with love on your side?” She didn’t wait for a response. The words just tumbled out and her cheeks heated. She didn’t want to start a debate. “Forget I said that. Besides, that’s not why I stopped.”
Her stomach twisted with the discomfort that came from getting too close to a subject that still brought her shame. “I should’ve seen the signs a cougar was tracking me, though. I should’ve been prepared.” The memories of the pain flared to life, easily encouraged by the strain her muscles had suffered last night. “A broken bone didn’t help matters.”
“That must have been terrifying, but I’m surprised you never went back to it. Eddie was, too.”
“You guys discussed me?” She put her hands on her hips, trying to be playful, but really she wanted to know what they thought of her. Her parents certainly hadn’t said much after the incident. Ironically, the biggest decision of her life at the time had warranted the least amount of discussion, like a taboo subject.
“Well, you weren’t my girlfriend yet.”
She huffed. “So I was fair game to discuss until then?”
“At least until Eddie could tell I was interested in you and made me promise not to date you.” He shook his head. “I always felt guilty for going behind his back. I never specifically agreed to his terms, but I never told him I didn’t, either.”
“That’s the reason we dated in secret? I thought we agreed Eddie and my parents would just make things weird.” She handed him a water bottle from the pack. Even though drinking cold water in the frigid temps was the last thing she wanted to do, they needed to keep from dehydrating.
“Well, there was that, too. But mostly because he didn’t want me to date you.”
For some reason, the brotherly protection warmed her heart, though it seemed completely out of character for her twin. Sibling rivalry was more their speed.
“I think we’re almost there,” Shawn said. “The trees thin out and then stop up ahead. The trailer will be in sight, but so will a lot of the rest of the land.”
Jackie dared not hope. The hike had seemed to last for hours, but she had no sense of time without a watch or her phone on. They were close, but would they be able to step out of hiding in the trees without becoming targets? Shawn’s forehead mirrored her concern, and they both stilled.
* * *
Shawn reached for his gun holster, almost out of habit. He bent over and untied the branches from his boots. Jackie followed suit without a word. While the bare-bones snowshoes helped with long walks, they prevented a stealthy approach.
“Do you have the Taser still?” he whispered.
Her eyes widened, and she pulled the weapon out from the pocket of his coat.
He’d forgotten she was wearing his stuff. “Okay, you can put that back. I’m sure you won’t need it,” he added hastily. “Just keep it handy. Stay behind me.”
As they neared the edge of the clearing, a visual confirmed his worst fear. Two ATVs and a couple of snowmobiles were parked right in front of the archaeologist’s field trailer. Two sizable men in full winter gear sat with their hands loosely resting on the handlebars, laughing at each other as if they were having the best day. He’d never wanted to write a ticket for motorized vehicles in unauthorized areas so badly in his life. If these men were responsible for the murders, they’d likely done much worse, but he didn’t want to make assumptions.
His bones ached from spending the night in the frigid conditions. A generator, a mini-refrigerator, a hot plate and different kinds of tea and cocoa were all inside that trailer. He knew because on days he was too far from the field office to heat up his lunch when he’d brought leftovers, he’d stopped by the trailer and shot the breeze with Pete, who was often logging archaeological finds, usually minor.
Pete didn’t have the best reputation for “street smarts,” being considered more of an intellectual than a fieldman. Apparently the job market as an archaeologist proved competitive, and Pete, while disappointed with some of the duties of his position—such as checking to see if an outhouse would contaminate an undiscovered site of historic interest—seemed good at his job. He just hoped Pete had made it back home before the men loitering around his trailer caused trouble.
He placed his hand on the grip of his gun. They were so close to warmth and safety. As long as the men weren’t armed, he could tell Jackie to stay back, and handle them.
“What’s the status of the storm?” A third man stepped out of the trailer, speaking to the other two still seated on the ATVs. He placed the goggles on top of his head. Shawn hesitated. Were these the same men who had shot at them last night?
The smaller man held up his satellite phone. “Stalled longer than expected in the mountains to the west but expected to hit here in the next twenty-four hours. Supposed to dump an estimated two feet of snow with up to thirty-five-mile-an-hour gusts.”
The standing man, seemingly in charge, grunted. “Okay, I think we can get done and out of here as long as the archaeologist cooperates.”
“I think he can be made to—”
A gust of wind carried away the second man’s words. Shawn’s gut grew hot. Whoever these men were, they had taken Pete. He squinted, trying to make out the leader’s face. Before he could take mental notes, his gaze caught on the man’s belt. A holster.
The other man who’d been speaking also wore a holster. The
third guy had a rifle strapped to his back. He couldn’t count on the trailer as his means to get Jackie to safety. He stepped back farther into the grouping of trees to reevaluate. If he could just get his hands on a satellite phone...
A twig snapping behind him caught his attention. He spun around to find Jackie, who stood with her gloved hand over her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers. A stick sat underneath her boot. She pulled her hand down, mouthing sorry.
“What was that?” a man’s voice said.
Time to move. Except Jackie bent over with the broken fir branch and rapidly wiped his footprint away. That might have worked last night, but it wouldn’t help a bit if the men discovered them standing there.
He went to grab her hand, but she brushed it away and gestured for him to move. He hustled around the largest pine tree closest to them, one that had to be over a hundred years old, judging by its width. Jackie brushed their footprints away until she stood next to him.
He pressed his mouth against her hair. “They’ll find us here in a second,” he whispered. She pointed underneath the tree.
He almost groaned aloud but didn’t have any better ideas. If they ran, the footprints would be a dead giveaway. They both dropped to the ground facing each other, as if about to start doing push-ups, with only an inch or so between their foreheads. He saw the question in her eyes and nodded. They rolled at the same time, until they were underneath the tree branches. Jackie reached out from the prickly cover to brush away their footprints with the same branch she’d used earlier, but her backpack caught on the branch they were hiding under. And judging by the crunch of footsteps, someone fast approached.
Shawn grabbed the branch from her hand. His backpack also caught, but he strained, his arms longer than hers, and jiggled the snow until it covered up the footprints. Before, the fresh, powdery snow had worked against them, but now he was thankful for how loose and fluid the flakes moved.
Wilderness Sabotage Page 7
