Striking Range

by Margaret Mizushima

  “Ken, you need to go with her,” Garrett insisted, sounding upset. “I can handle myself.”

  Mattie patted Robo on the shoulder. “Come,” she told him, moving away from the two before Brody could change his mind. “I’ll check in soon, Brody.”

  As she went, she pulled out the bag that held Cole’s shirt. It took only a moment to refresh Robo’s scent memory as she chattered about finding Cole. Her dog trotted off and she followed, adjusting her head lamp to aim at the ground in front of her. Robo took a few valuable minutes searching for Cole’s scent trail again, and Mattie cursed the wind for scattering it around. Robo finally picked it up in a brushy patch where the skin rafts must have clustered.

  Darkness closed around her as the unrelenting wind pushed her on. Having seen firsthand how dangerous the footing could be, she focused her attention on each step as she picked up the pace to keep up with Robo.

  It took about a half hour to reach the living forest, which offered respite from the cruel wind. Mattie paused to check in with Brody, giving him her coordinates. At the pace he and Garrett were forced to use to accommodate the lame horse, it would probably take them an hour to cover the same distance and reach shelter.

  She encouraged Robo to go on, and within minutes they reached the cleared pathway of the Balderhouse trail. Wind whistled through pine boughs on both sides, racing down the trail. Robo appeared to still be on the scent as he alternated between nose up and nose to the ground. If only they’d been headed into the wind, her dog might have been able to find Cole by tracing him through the air. She could tell that’s what Robo was trying to do.

  He was several feet ahead of her on the trail when he stopped suddenly, his nose to the ground, his head moving back and forth as if sweeping for scent. Had he lost Cole’s track? Her heart fluttered as she stopped beside Robo, her lamp trained on him to read his body language.

  He sat and stared up at her, a strange white powder covering his nose and his muzzle. Alarm shot through her as confusion filled his eyes and he looked away. He stood, trembling and swaying. Within seconds, his bowel evacuated and he went down, banging his muzzle against the ground.

  Fentanyl! A voice in her head screamed at her to hurry. She grabbed Robo by the haunches and pulled his limp body away from the white particles she could now see on the trail. Without thinking, she brushed the powder from his nose with one hand even as she reached with the other for her pocket.

  After snatching out one container of Narcan, she pulled off her gloves and plucked at the edge of the packet. She peeled it open and took out the premeasured dose. Placing the injector firmly against Robo’s nostril, she pressed the red plunger to deliver the spray.

  She shrugged off her backpack and dumped it on the ground. After unzipping it, she reached inside for her water supply, ripped the bladder free from its Velcro mooring, and poured water over Robo’s muzzle, brushing at his fur and nose with her bare hand to wash them clean.

  She felt a brief euphoria as the world around her whirled and her vision blurred. Her chest tightened and her gut lurched.

  I’ve been exposed to it too.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  It felt like swimming upward through dark, oily fluid to reach the air—a snatch at a breath before sinking back down. Then—a soft, wet cloth washed her face. Mattie awakened with her arms wrapped around Robo. He lay in her embrace, licking her cheeks.

  She groaned, disoriented and too nauseous to move. Where are we? What happened?

  Robo tried to wriggle free, but a voice in her head urged her to hang on to him. Keep him safe. “Stay,” she murmured.

  He sneezed and then settled in, resting his head near hers. Gradually, it came back to her. Before she went down, she’d used her second dose of Narcan and grabbed hold of Robo to keep him from going back to the powder when he awakened.

  Thank goodness the naloxone was doing its job. But she knew the effect could be temporary, and one dose might not be enough. Protocol ran through her mind: after an exposure to opioids severe enough to result in unconsciousness, both dog and handler needed to seek medical care immediately.

  She sat up carefully, fighting dizziness. Robo moved beneath her hand as if to get up, but again she told him to stay. She sat cross-legged and leaned forward, directing her headlight toward her backpack to find water. Shivers racked her body, and she realized her bare hands were numb.

  Clenching and releasing her fingers to force the blood flow and warmth back into them, she searched for her water until she spotted the plastic bladder lying open near her pack. Though two-thirds empty, it still held some of the precious fluid. Feeling as if everything moved in slow motion, she used a few splashes to wash her hands and then dried them on her pant legs, hoping they were free from fentanyl powder.

  She found a pair of latex gloves in the bottom of her pack and slipped them on, then bathed Robo’s nose again for good measure. He licked at the droplets.

  “No licking,” she told him quietly, hoping to keep him from swallowing any remaining particles. She poured a portion of water into his bowl and let him drink while she pressed the bite valve between her teeth and sucked a few swallows. She rinsed off the latex gloves and decided to leave them on for what little warmth they could provide, because her runner’s gloves had been contaminated with the powder.

  Thrusting her hands into her coat pockets, she sat for a while, thoughts about nothing and everything floating through her mind like bubbles she needed to chase. She and Robo gazed at each other, his presence an anchor. She felt mindless, like a zombie.

  Gradually, her brain sorted itself out enough to formulate a plan, and she put everything away in her backpack. She was beginning to feel halfway human, though her stomach still gurgled and her head remained woozy.

  “Stay there,” she told Robo as she managed to stand without falling. Her pack felt like it weighed a ton as she tugged it back on. “Now come. Heel.”

  Her dog seemed to be doing better than she, and he rose to his feet without struggle and moved to her left side.

  “Are you okay?” He seemed to be, and she turned her head lamp to light the trail, searching for the beginning and end of the powder. A line of it lay across the trail as if someone had deliberately set a trap for her dog. Hauck. Anger surged through her, giving her renewed strength.

  Being careful to keep the powder from going airborne, she kicked dirt and gravel to cover it. Then she grasped the handle on Robo’s harness and led him carefully around the spot to the other side. “Let’s put on your leash.”

  Though she hated to impede Robo’s ability to search for Cole, she couldn’t let him go out in front and fall into another trap. Besides, she didn’t know if Robo’s sense of smell would be hampered at the moment. Though research showed that nasal delivery of Narcan didn’t decrease a dog’s sense of smell, would Robo be able to follow a scent track this soon after the dosage? Would he feel up to it? She’d never had this experience before and wasn’t sure.

  Picking her way carefully, she led him down the trail, using her head lamp to search for the dangerous white powder. After about one hundred yards, a boulder rose up like a monument, and she stepped into its leeward side to block the wind. She felt like her head was beginning to clear. “Let’s call Brody.”

  She keyed on her mic. “Brody, this is Mattie. Do you copy? Over.”

  Seconds passed before her speaker crackled with a broken transmission. “… coordinates … over.”

  The terrain must be playing havoc with their signal.

  She checked her GPS and read him her coordinates. “Brody, where are you? Over.”

  Nothing but a few crackles.

  Mattie stepped out from behind the boulder and tried a few more times to connect, but to no avail. In case he could receive her signal, she told him about their fentanyl exposure and asked if he’d brought Narcan. When there was no reply, she gave up and signed off for the last time.

  Robo might be okay, but she had a strong suspicion that she was going to need
another dose of Narcan, and Brody was her best hope for providing it up here on the mountain. She hoped he’d at least received the coordinates for her location. Maybe she should go uphill and try to find him.

  Robo came to stand beside her, lifting his nose to the wind. As she was returning her radio to the inside pocket of her coat, he raised his head and barked, his front paws lifting off the ground. He walked out the full length of his leash and tugged against it, trying to draw her forward into the wind. Then he stopped and stared at her, giving her a full alert.

  Her dog had caught someone’s scent in the wind. Cole?

  She studied Robo’s back—no raised hackles. No guarded stance—he appeared excited, not wary.

  If Robo smelled Cole’s scent, was he still with Hauck?

  Prior to getting messed up with the fentanyl, they’d been following Cole’s track. But if she’d been reading her dog’s body language right, he hadn’t smelled Cole on the wind. Now, though, Robo seemed excited about catching scent from upwind.

  How could they have managed to pass Cole? Maybe it was Brody, coming from uphill behind them, that Robo smelled.

  It was a dilemma. She needed to know who was out there. If ever she’d wanted her partner to be able to talk, now was the time. She removed her hands from her coat pockets to retrieve Cole’s scent article from her belt. When she opened the bag for Robo, he remained intent on staring uphill, ignoring it as if not wanting to bother.

  Okay, he’s telling me we need to follow the scent, so that’s what we’re going to do.

  She put the bag away and thrust her hand through the loop at the end of Robo’s leash. The frigid wind chilled her to the bone, and she couldn’t stop shivering. “Let’s go, Robo. Find Cole.”

  He hit the end of the leash and almost tugged her off her feet. Thank goodness she’d secured him rather than trying to hold him in her cold hands. “Easy,” she murmured, forcing him to move forward at a pace she could match. Her feet were so heavy … she was just too tired to run.

  Robo followed the wide trail uphill for a bit before heading into the trees on the side opposite where she expected Brody would come. She stumbled over rocks and tufts of foliage as she tried to keep up with him.

  Soon the ground tilted downward and she sensed they were heading into a ravine. She grabbed tree limbs to help keep her balance and slid most of the way down. When she reached the bottom, burbling water told her a small stream ran past on her right. Robo continued to pull her uphill, and she felt as if she was in a dream, slogging through mud.

  Fatigue threatened to overwhelm her, and she knew she needed another dose of Narcan. She had to keep moving. A cliff face loomed on her left, and Robo pulled her along its base. He barked again, tugging harder.

  “Robo!” The call came to her on the wind and pierced the fog in her mind. “Mattie! Is that you?”

  “Cole!” She picked up her pace, stumbling forward. “We’re here.”

  “Thank God.”

  Robo reached him first, jumping up to greet him. Cole was on his feet but he moved toward her awkwardly, using both hands to deal with Robo’s exuberance. Tears came to her eyes, blurring the image of his battered face. She reached for him and pulled him into a tight hug.

  He didn’t hug her back … and it dawned on her why. “Your hands are bound.”

  “Zip tie.” He raised his arms, slipped them over her head, and pulled her close. “Thank goodness you’re both all right. Hauck set a trap for Robo. I hit my head when I escaped. After I came to, I’ve been trying to find a way back to the trail.”

  “We were both exposed,” she murmured into his coat. “Here, let me cut that off you.”

  He loosened his hug and raised his arms to let her go. Mattie ducked under as she reached for the Leatherman tool he’d once given her for Christmas, both of them never guessing it would be used for this purpose. Though her hands were clumsy, she made short work of cutting him free from the zip tie.

  He chafed his hands together before reaching for her again. “You were exposed to the fentanyl? How are you doing?”

  Mattie pressed close to his warmth to stop her shivers, her cheek on his chest. His voice rumbled against her ear. It was hard to string words together to answer. “Mmm … getting sleepy.”

  Her legs felt like rubber, and she leaned on him heavily. “I need …”

  And then she slipped away into nothingness.

  * * *

  Cole knelt, carefully lowering Mattie to the ground while keeping her upper body braced on his knees. Robo rushed forward to hover over her, and Cole had to push him back. He told him to sit, a command the dog ignored, but at least he gave Cole some space. He reached inside his coat to the inner breast pocket, his fingers clumsy and stiff. Hauck had taken everything else from him, but he’d missed the Narcan doses he’d brought with him today in case one of the dogs ran into trouble.

  He struggled to open the packet and finally extracted the dispenser. He used light from Mattie’s head lamp to find her nose and injected the dosage. He held his breath as he watched her eyelids flutter. He had three more doses in his pocket, but he knew he needed to be patient and see how she reacted to this one.

  It didn’t take long. Soon she struggled to sit up, and he helped support her.

  “What …” she murmured, reaching for Robo, who licked her face. “Is he okay?”

  “He looks like he is.” Cole held her to keep her from trying to stand. “Wait a minute until you get your sea legs back. Hold on to Robo while I check him out.”

  He used her head lamp to check both her and Robo’s pupil responsiveness. He then pulled Mattie close, placing his fingers against her neck to monitor her pulse. Strong and steady, maybe a little fast, but without a watch it was hard to tell.

  Mattie raised her head from his shoulder. “Where did Hauck go?”

  “He probably thought I was dead when I fell down that cliff. As far as I know, he headed down the Balderhouse trail. I told him it wasn’t public access, hoping he’d stick to it.”

  “We thought that’s what you planned. Brody alerted the sheriff to set up a perimeter at the base. We need to get moving so we can push Hauck from behind in case he decides to turn around and come back up.”

  She tried to stand again, and this time Cole helped her. Her legs seemed to support her, but she swayed, and he braced her until she could get her balance.

  “Let’s get back to the trail so I can try to radio Brody.” Mattie took a few tentative steps, heading downhill. “There’s a place we can climb up just beyond here.”

  With her head lamp to guide them, Cole kept his arm around her to steady her while Robo trotted ahead. He could feel the shivers course through her body, and he knew what she truly needed was to get down to a warm place. Though at first she wobbled and shook, the Narcan seemed to kick in as she walked. “How are you doing?”

  “Better. I think I’ll be all right this time.”

  He hoped that would be the case, and though he knew she was tough, he planned to stay close to keep an eye on her. Robo led the way, and they found the spot where they could climb up to the trail. Cole stayed behind Mattie to make sure she didn’t fall backward. The wind careened down the trail when they made their way back to it.

  Mattie spoke into her radio, calling for Brody.

  His voice crackled to life from the speaker. “I’m here, Mattie.” He gave her his coordinates. “Where are you? Over.”

  “Oh my gosh,” she said to Cole before keying her radio back on. “I’m near. Stay put. We’ll be right there. Over.”

  After she ended the transmission, she turned to Cole and grasped his arm. “He’s right down this trail beside a boulder I was at before. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Brody used the sat phone to contact McCoy and learned that the sheriff had called in help from Colorado State Patrol. Special Agent Rick Lawson from the CBI had arrived as well. Reinforcements were in place, and they’d established a perimeter near the Balderhouse trailhead. Mattie
could imagine a dragnet of officers hidden behind trees, waiting to close in on Hauck when he rode down the trail.

  “Garrett’s waiting up above, off the trail in a sheltered spot.” Brody briefed Cole on how Garrett and his horse had been injured. “I hated to leave him alone, Cole. Will you ride up and stay with him until this thing is over?”

  Cole looked at Mattie as he took the reins that Brody thrust into his hand, and she could tell he was torn.

  She wanted Cole somewhere away from harm. “Go to him, Cole. We can’t leave him alone and unprotected. Do you have a gun?”

  “Hauck took it.”

  “Here, take my backup.” Brody bent forward to extract the revolver he carried concealed above his boot and offered it to Cole.

  “Where will I find him?” Cole asked, taking the gun.

  Brody gave directions and landmarks, explaining that Garrett waited not far from the trail. In return, Cole gave Brody strict instructions to keep an eye on Mattie for symptoms of renarcotization as he split his remaining packets of Narcan between the two of them. “Do not leave her side, Brody. You got that? Not for at least two more hours.”

  “Got it, Doc.”

  Mattie felt a wave of melancholy as Cole rode up the trail. She told herself it was a residual from coming down from the fentanyl, though she knew it was much more than that. Now that she’d found Cole, she hated to part from him again. She turned to Brody. “Let’s go. We’ll keep to the trail so we can move faster.”

  “You set the pace.”

  Her body felt tired, but her head was now clear. She didn’t feel up to running on a rocky trail in the dark, so she pushed forward at a fast walk, pounding down the steep parts, using the rocks as steps when she could. Robo’s head was up now as he trotted beside her, but she still kept an eye on the trail for powdery white poison.