They spread their sleeping bags on top of their un-pitched tents so they could just wriggle inside if it started raining. At McLean’s insistence they took turns staying up to watch, and this saved them.
Carrie was on duty, sitting up in her bag to stay warm while JD drifted back into blissful slumber. She had to will herself not to ease back down even for a minute, since she knew she’d go out like a light.
She never heard a sound, but when she blinked and lazily shifted her gaze over toward the trees where the horses were, she suddenly realized that someone was standing there in the darkness. Her eyes widened as she stared, heart skipping a beat, trying to cut through the night and identify the figure. She couldn’t; her traveling companions were all still in their sleeping bags. Now she realized why the horses had never quieted down as they usually did, even though it was nearly eleven o’clock. Someone had been gradually, stealthily creeping up on them for the past hour.
“Hey!” she shouted, sitting up straight and reaching for her backpack. “There’s somebody by the horses!”
The men sat up in shock and began reaching for guns and flashlights. The figure by the horses crouched and rapidly scuttled for cover. From behind a clump of trees a young man’s voice rang out. “Stay where you are! There are snipers aiming at you!”
JD paused, halfway to his feet and still shirtless, and DJ did his best to disappear into the ground where he lay. McLean rolled over twice and came up with a pistol in his hands, aiming it first toward the horses, then sweeping it around the campsite in an arc, looking for targets.
The horses stamped and whinnied. Carrie slipped from her sleeping bag and took cover behind the tree she’d been leaning on, looking around and hoping the snipers weren’t behind her in the brush. She frantically dug through her backpack for her own gun.
McLean moved quickly toward the horses. “Get away from there!” he roared. “Drop your weapons!”
There was a yelp from behind DJ’s mare, and the young man raised his hands high. “Don’t shoot me, man!”
McLean grabbed the guy by the back of his shirt and hauled him bodily out into the moonlight, holding him in front as a deterrent for any shooters. “Where are the others? Tell them to drop their weapons, now!”
The kid, who looked and sounded about seventeen, just whimpered in fear. McLean called out to JD, who was already halfway into the trees with his rifle out, “JD, sweep the area! Quick!”
“On it,” JD replied, disappearing into the brush.
“Carrie, are you okay?” McLean asked.
“Yes,” she answered from behind her tree. She had finally gotten her pistol out and was fumbling with the safety, trying to remember in the dark how it worked.
“Cover JD if you can.” McLean shook the kid and jammed his gun against the small of the kid’s back. “Where are they? How many? Answer, now!”
“Uh… uh, there’s two of them,” the kid said, voice trembling wildly. “They have guns!”
“Where?”
“Up there, on the ridge,” the kid answered. His voice was filled with uncertainty, but not deceit.
“On the ridge, JD!” McLean shouted.
Carrie had her flashlight on now, and shined it up at the ridge in question, a piece of high rocky ground that overlooked the camp site. DJ had his rifle out and aimed it at the ridge. The tension was so palpable that Carrie’s hands shook. At any moment bullets could fly out of the darkness at them.
There were several more moments of darkness and confusion, but finally JD came back into the camp. “I circled the place twice, guys. There’s nobody up there. This boy’s lying.”
“No, I swear,” the kid protested. “They’re up there. Well, they were…”
McLean dumped him in the middle of the camp site, where he was surrounded by four guns. The kid crumpled to the ground.
“Now,” McLean said, “you are going to tell us exactly who you are, what you thought you were doing here, and where you came from. You’re lucky you didn’t get shot just now!”
“It’s not my fault,” sniveled the kid. “They made me do it. We just wanted your horses.”
Carrie came over, still aiming her pistol at the boy. “Who did?” she shouted at him, nerves still singing with adrenaline. A slow rage was boiling up inside her that she hadn’t felt before, and she couldn’t shake the idea that this person might also have been involved in the atrocities she’d seen at the highway, or in Denver. His skinny, pale face reminded her of some of the guys that had tried to come after her in the parking lot outside the Rescue Mission several days prior.
“Uh, the man’s called Jackson, and his girlfriend is Marie. I don’t even know them! I just met them yesterday, and they made me go for your horses. This wasn’t even my idea. Please don’t hurt me, okay?”
“And who are you?” JD asked, poking his rifle into the kid’s ribs.
“Jake Parlan. I’m just… I was just up here at a cabin for the week, when everything went dark and the car died. My friends split, but I stayed around here. I found Jackson and Marie in somebody’s cabin, and they gave me some food, but they wouldn’t share anything else. Then we saw you guys, and they said if I could steal the horses, I could have one.”
McLean rolled his eyes. “Did one of you shoot to scare us off earlier?”
“Uh, yeah, that was Marie. Jackson was pissed at her for it. She was just trying to get you to move on so you wouldn’t find our camp, but Jackson said he wanted your horses. So we followed you and I sneaked up on the horses while they got into position up on the ridge.”
McLean asked Carrie and JD to go search the area more carefully for signs of the other would-be robbers. He and DJ kept the kid under guard and continued questioning him.
Jake was just a dumb high-schooler from Denver who had been partying with friends in the cabin of one of their parents. When his friends decided to start walking back to the city in spite of the dangers they’d already seen on the road, Jake opted to hide out in the area. He’d obviously fallen in with a couple of opportunists with loose morals, who, it seemed, had fled at the first sign of resistance from the group.
JD and Carrie found a spot on the ridge where their flashlights revealed crushed grass and a box half full of .22 ammo that had been left on the ground. They turned off their lights and looked around for ten more minutes, but there was no one left in the area. Jake had been left on his own.
They came back to the camp and started packing up. Tired or not, they couldn’t stay to be attacked again.
“You’re a real stupid kid,” McLean told Jake when they were ready to go. “You got lucky this time. Next time, you’ll probably die. I’d stay away from those two you took up with, if I were you. They’ll know you ratted on them, and they won’t appreciate it.”
Jake nodded. “So you’re not going to…?”
“What, kill you?” McLean laughed. “For being stupid? Nah. But don’t you try to follow us, or steal from us again, or you will regret it. Now get out of here.”
Jake stood up. “Okay. Uh… could I have a gun? Or some--”
“Get out of here!” Carrie screamed at him, incensed. The kid backed away in surprise, eyes locked on Carrie’s hand, which had strayed to the gun on her leg. “And don’t stop running until your scrawny butt is all the way back where it came from,” she added angrily, nearly spitting after the kid as he high-tailed it out of the camp and into the night. Her hand lingered on her hip holster.
Finally she turned back to her horse. She sullenly jerked her saddle straps tight and climbed up onto her horse. Then she noticed McLean staring at her.
“What?” she snapped.
“Usually you’re the patient, kindly one,” McLean said. “You feeling okay?”
“It’s the middle of the night. I’m tired. We were almost robbed, on my watch! What do you want me to do, kiss him on the cheek and hand out cookies?”
McLean shook his head and swung into the saddle. “Nope. But you were the one talking about turning the ot
her cheek a few days back. Changed your mind?”
Carrie grunted. “They would have taken our horses, and who knows what else? DJ can’t walk. We would have been practically left for dead! Just because the lights go out, now everybody we meet is a criminal? To hell with them.” She shook her head and led the way down the trail.
JD, who had been helping DJ up onto his horse, mounted up himself. After waiting a moment for Carrie and DJ to get farther down the trail, he asked McLean, “What, ah, what exactly did you two see at the highway the other day? You never went into detail.”
McLean grimaced. “Things that don’t bear talking about. I’m sure you can imagine, if you try.”
JD shook his head. “That girl has changed. Some ways good, some ways bad. She got the horses back when it counted, and she’s pulled her weight well. But there’s obviously trouble in her mind.”
McLean snorted. “Having second thoughts about her?”
“No, no,” JD replied. “It’s just that… well, we ought to keep an eye on her, I guess.”
“Agreed. This stuff affects us all differently. Not everybody can take it in stride. We’ll give each other some space, and offer support as needed. She’ll be all right.”
“I sure hope so,” JD said.
They rode out into the night.
Chapter 12 : Mountain Disaster
The next day the rain returned, harder than ever.
“I hope this is falling on Denver and putting out some of those fires,” DJ remarked.
“They’ll need a lot more than rain,” McLean said. “If anyone’s smart enough to collect it, it may give them something to drink, though.”
They had left the cabin valleys behind and were ascending a series of steep slopes to get over a wall of mountains that blocked their path to the ranch. The rain intensified as they reached a high pass, and it began to be mixed with sleet. They were traveling inside a cloud formation now, and the driving rain and fog obscured everything beyond a dozen yards.
The trail wound steeply down a hillside that had ten-foot drops all around, and they were forced to pick their way slowly along on foot, leading their horses with one hand and using the other to steady themselves. Every so often one of the horses would trigger a small rockslide in the loose, muddy soil and it was all they could do to stay upright.
After one such close call, DJ suggested they take a break.
“Can’t stop here,” JD said, gritting his teeth against the cold wind that had come up. “We’ve got to get down to more level ground and find some shelter nearby.”
“How do you even know there is a good place nearby?” DJ retorted.
“He’s got a good point,” McLean told JD privately as they rode together at the front, breaking trail for the others. “One of us ought to go on ahead and scout a location before this gets any worse.”
“Yeah. Preferably two of us, so one can stay and prep the camp while the other comes back to guide the others.”
McLean looked at the other riders’ animals. “JD, I think your horse is in the best shape. DJ will be doing well if he can just get his down the mountain in one piece. Carrie’s is okay for now, but I wouldn’t trust it to go any faster.” Implicit but unspoken was the fact that DJ and Carrie were the least confident riders, and JD and McLean could move on much more quickly without the other two. “I’ll have a word with the others.”
He stepped his horse aside and waited for DJ and Carrie to come up. “JD and I will hurry ahead and find a sheltered spot,” he told them. “Can you two make it down the hill all right if you take it slow?”
Carrie didn’t say a word. She hadn’t spoken much since the highway.
“Yeah. We’ll be all right, I think,” DJ said. “Make sure you have a fire going when we get there. I’m freezing.”
McLean looked Carrie in the eye, ignoring the water that was being blown into his eyes and streaming down his face. “Carrie? You going to be all right?” She nodded.
He performed a radio check with DJ to make sure the little handhelds they’d collected at Morgan’s ranch were still charged and transmitting. Then he wheeled his horse around and hurried after JD, who was already thirty yards ahead on the slope.
McLean urged his horse forward through the mud and rocks. It was a large, muscular beast and had no problem navigating the rain-soaked mountainside. Morgan had given this one to McLean because he was the tallest of the group. JD’s mount was smaller, but he was the most seasoned rider. Minutes later the two advance scouts were down the slope and out of sight, hurrying past huge boulders and gnarled pines.
When they finally reached the point where the trail bottomed out and followed a draw down toward a more sheltered canyon valley, they had to ford a small river that had taken over what used to be a dry wash. Then they bushwhacked through some scrub oak and cut over toward a patch of forest on a gentle slope that looked promising in terms of drainage and shelter from the wind and rain.
Back on the mountainside, DJ was leading the way as he and Carrie picked their way slowly down the trail. The wind was howling now and whipping the rain around them like a tornado. Carrie’s horse kept trying to jostle past DJ’s in its eagerness to get down the mountain, which didn’t help DJ in his efforts to keep his mare on the trail.
“This is just great!” he shouted into the wind. “All we need now is some thunder and lightning to spook the horses!” Carrie didn’t reply but forced her animal to back off and give DJ some space, waiting until he was several yards ahead before continuing. She didn’t want to add to DJ’s complaints, but she could feel the temperature dropping and she was pretty sure the rain was turning to sleet.
As they neared the final stretch that led into the wash that was now a torrent, DJ’s radio crackled loudly. He had the volume turned up all the way so he’d hear it, but it happened at exactly the wrong moment as his horse had dipped its head near the radio while it planted its legs against another small slide.
At the sudden, unnatural noise, the mare bucked and reared away from DJ, jerking on its reins and pulling him off balance. His own feet started to slide, and he dropped the reins to steady himself. The mare scrambled with all four legs in a desperate attempt to keep its footing, but DJ could see that it was coming down at him.
He turned aside and twisted his foot against a boulder just as the animal ploughed past him. It knocked him backward over the boulder, wrenching his foot up, and he tumbled head over heels down the hillside with his horse. Carrie watched it all from a few yards back, unable to do anything to stop it.
The mare rolled over on its back, shedding some of the gear from the saddle, and came to its feet farther down the slope. With a pained, frightened scream, it ran sideways along the mountain toward some trees. DJ huddled in the mud, moaning.
Carrie hurried down to him, clutching at her own reins with one hand and trying to help DJ with the other. “Where are you hurt?” she asked. “Can you get up?” She tried to keep an eye on DJ’s mare as well, which was rapidly disappearing into the fog.
DJ sat up, spitting mud and brushing pebbles off his jacket. “I’m fine! Don’t worry about me, catch that stupid horse. I’m… ow!” He felt his ankle. “Uh-oh.”
Carrie knelt and pulled up DJ’s pant leg to expose his hiking boot. She felt the ankle. “This looks like a sprain, DJ. Does it feel like it’s swelling?”
“Yeah. Crap.”
Carrie untied his boot and laid him back against his backpack, raising his foot and propping it up on her own. Then she picked up the radio from where it had fallen, wiped the mud from it, and tried to transmit. “McLean! JD! This is Carrie. Can you hear me?”
There was no answer. “McLean, this is Carrie,” she tried again. “DJ’s hurt. We’re on the mountainside still. Can you hear me?” Still nothing.
“This weather’s probably cutting the range in half,” DJ said. “You’ll never get through unless they’re practically in sight.”
Carrie tried again, with no luck.
“Hey, your hor
se!” DJ cried, pointing. Carrie turned in time to see her own horse following the other toward the trees, more slowly this time but just as determined to get out of the weather. She jumped up and yelled at it, but the animal didn’t even turn its head.
The rain pelted down harder, and it was definitely turning to sleet now. Bits of icy slush were collecting in the folds of Carrie’s jacket.
“We have to get you off this mountain,” Carrie said, fear growing in her chest. “But I don’t think I can get you down myself.”
“You’d better go get those horses,” DJ replied, eyes mirroring Carrie’s worry.
“No, I should stay with you,” she said. “If you go into shock…”
“I’ll be fine. But if we lose the horses, this journey will take weeks, even if I make it down from here alive.”
“Don’t panic,” Carrie said. “You’re not going to die from a sprained ankle.” She pulled an emergency blanket from DJ’s pack and tore the foil sheet from its plastic wrapper. Stretching it over DJ, she tucked it in underneath him. “Stay here on the trail so the others will find you when they come. Keep as warm as you can, and keep that foot elevated. I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Keep trying to get those guys on the radio.”
DJ nodded. Carrie pulled a flashlight and pocket knife out of her bag, and DJ handed her a short length of rope from his. She stood up and hurried after the horses.
“Carrie! I’m sorry,” DJ called after her. “Be careful!”
She ignored him and cut across the slope, sliding in the mud and wet grass, until she got to the trees where the horses had disappeared. They weren’t there, and she could see why. The trees were too far apart to provide any real shelter from the wind and rain, and there was a cliff face farther along the slope that looked like it could offer a break from the wind driving down the mountain. She headed for it, turning her face away from the wind.
The elements she was battling outside were a perfect match for her inner struggle to push away the darkness and despair she felt after witnessing the scene at the highway. She was well acquainted with the ugliness of the world, and more so after the last several days. But watching an atrocity occur right in front of her without being able to intervene had disturbed her deeply.
Get Out of Denver (Denver Burning Book 1) Page 12
