Out Rider

by Lindsay McKenna

  Mind swinging back to her family, she wondered if someone had contacted her mother, Lily. She’d be devastated by the news. Dev didn’t care one whit what her alcoholic father thought one way or another. But she did care for and love her mother. What must she be going through knowing she was kidnapped? Tears burned in her eyes again. The horrifying reality that she might not ever see Sloan or her mother again tore through Dev. The anguish was real, like a knife slowly twisting savagely in her quickly beating heart.

  But as she trotted over the slippery pine needles, taking her time, keeping focused and keeping her pace steady, Dev felt indomitable will rising within her. She deserved to live! She deserved to have a chance with Sloan! Knowing he loved her just as much as she loved him, Dev wanted a second chance with him. To tell him in person that she loved him. Just let her survive this. Let her get back to Sloan, talk to her mother on the phone, reassure her that Dev was okay.

  Wiping her sweaty upper lip with her fingers, Dev felt a trickle of perspiration down her temples, as well. She kept a lookout for more water. She didn’t dare show herself between the tree line and the river. The likelihood was slim she’d find another pond. While ponds did exist in this forest, they were few and far between insofar as she knew. But Dev was new to the Tetons and didn’t know the region intimately. If only there was another water source within an hour of her, it would help. But like with everything else, Dev knew there were no guarantees. None.

  Swinging her gaze from side to side, Dev wondered where Gordon was. Could he have gotten ahead of her? A cold terror jagged through her and Dev felt hunted. She could feel him near. How near? If only she knew! She was constantly looking for a place to hide in case he suddenly showed up. What would she do? Try for the river? Run and leap into it?

  Her clothes and boots would drag her down. Her left arm was only partially usable and the Snake had a strong current. Dev knew she would tire quickly, swiftly get hypothermia, and she could drown before ever reaching the other bank. Plus, Gordon had a pistol. He could stand on the bank and fire at her. And rangers knew how to shoot accurately because they trained with pistols all the time.

  Disheartened by her options, Dev buckled down and kept her pace no matter how weak her legs were beginning to feel. Now she didn’t have adrenaline to support and fuel her. She would crash soon. And when she did, she’d have to rest for at least half an hour…maybe more, before she had the returning strength to push on. Plus, she had no food. But she’d eaten a heavy breakfast that Sloan had made for her that morning, and she was grateful he’d cajoled her into eating more than usual.

  Let me live. Please…let me live. I love Sloan. I want to go back to him so badly… Let me live…

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SLOAN HELD ON to his deteriorating patience as he stood with Cade Garner at the flight circle where the sheriff’s helicopter was landing. It had taken nearly forty-five minutes before the Black Hawk had arrived. Mouse was used to the slapping gusts of wind against him as Sloan hurried forward. The crew chief slid open the rear door of the Black Hawk and Mouse eagerly leaped in like the combat veteran that he was. Sloan followed.

  There were two jump seats in the rear of the cabin and he settled into one, guiding Mouse to sit between his opened legs. Cade sat in the other one. He was grateful that the sheriff’s deputy had had a spare protective Kevlar vest in his cruiser. Sloan was glad to be wearing it. Prior to boarding, he’d put a bullet in his .45 pistol and then snapped the safety on it. They were handed helmets to pull on and had plugged their cords into the ICS, intercabin system, so the four of them could talk to one another over the noise of the vibrating bird. Sloan placed protective cotton in Mouse’s ears for the flight. The sound in the cabin could create deafness in both humans and animals. The crew chief slid the door shut, locked it and gave the pilots permission to take off. In moments, they were lifting off, the gravity pushing them downward in their seats. Mouse sat obediently next to Sloan’s leg, panting and alert. He knew what was up. His combat-assault dog thought this was just another mission. It was. To save Dev.

  Sloan wrestled with his emotions as the Black Hawk quickly flew to an altitude of one thousand feet, but a little relief slid through him. They were up and now they could begin looking for Dev and Gordon. The pilot swung the bird over the water, and they began to follow the Snake River below them. Cade stood up, walked forward and leaned between the two front seats, speaking to the pilots and gesturing down toward the river.

  Sloan moved to the window on his left, craning his neck, gazing down below. From the air, the Snake looked like a lazy, quiet dark green ribbon of a river. But that was nothing close to the truth. The Snake was deep, the currents wicked and powerful. It was a river of consequence, and more than a few people had been fooled, had either nearly drowned or fully given their lives for failing to respect this mighty river. He saw the forest tree line about a hundred feet from the shore. In some places, huge meadows pushed it back a quarter of a mile.

  Where was Dev? How was she? Sloan rubbed his chest, his heart aching because he swore he could feel her terror. What would Gordon do to her? He didn’t want to go there, the answer too gruesome for Sloan to contemplate. His fingers tightened on the leash as he struggled not to allow his feelings to overwhelm him. If not for his years in the military, Sloan couldn’t have been doing what he was doing right now: focusing on the hunt for Gordon. And it was only because of his background that Cade had asked him to come along with his dog. His heart was nearly beating in time with the blades above them.

  They had gone a mile and not seen any rafts on the river. The raft trips began within the Grand Teton Park and ended at the main entrance gate to the park. But no raft tour companies were allowed on this part of the river, so if they spotted someone, it would be Dev and Gordon. Straining his eyes, the sunlight bright and blinding, Sloan tried to peer ahead of the shaking, vibrating helicopter. He saw nothing. Not yet. He wasn’t sure what Cade would do if they spotted them. The Black Hawk was a law-enforcement helo and carried weapons on it. He saw the M-16 rifle above the sliding door. And the two pilots and air crew chief were armed, as well.

  The other worry Slade had was if Gordon had a rifle. At a thousand feet, the Black Hawk was a target. Yet they had to fly low enough, slow enough, to try to find the couple. Gordon was an expert marksman, had been in the Army for four years and had seen a lot of combat action in Iraq. Sloan knew not to underestimate the man in any way. His heart swung to Dev. She was a survivor. She was a military vet and had seen combat many times over in Afghanistan. She would take advantage of any situation to try to escape if she could. She would not go down without a fight. But he felt his heart ripping wide-open with fear for her plight. Gordon was sick and twisted. Sloan was sure he was blaming her for his time in prison, which was what Cade had surmised earlier. And he didn’t doubt he had come back to kidnap—and punish—Dev for putting him there.

  “There,” Cade said, his voice rising with excitement. “Do you see that? It looks like a partially hidden raft on that island!”

  Instantly, the pilot swung wide so that Sloan could also see a sliver of a gravel-and-sand island thick with willows across it. Frowning, he saw the nose of a dark green raft partially covered with cut willows. His heart rate amped up. Searching the area, Sloan saw no one around. And he had been watching the tree line all the way down the river in hopes of spotting Dev if she’d escaped Gordon.

  “Go ahead and land on that sandbar,” Cade ordered the pilots. He twisted a look toward Sloan. “We’re going to exit. The helo will take off and they’ll search further downstream, but I think Gordon deliberately hid the raft here for a reason.” Cade pointed toward the tree line. “Dev might have escaped from him, forcing Gordon to beach the raft and go after her.”

  Sloan nodded. “Unless this was his destination.” He hated saying it, knowing what that meant. If Gordon had some kind of hideaway in these woods, he would be taking Dev to it. His mind didn’t want to go there. It just didn’t. Giving
Cade a grim look, he saw the deputy nod, his mouth tightening. Sloan knew he was thinking the same thing: that Gordon had a hideout somewhere in the forest and he would take Dev to it, rape her and then kill her. His stomach knotted. Nausea rose in his throat and he swallowed several times.

  “When we land,” Cade told him, “let’s see what Mouse picks up. We’ll draw weapons as soon as we disembark.”

  “Got it,” Sloan said. He lowered back into the seat and Cade sat down, as well. They would unsafety their weapons outside the bird. The helo took the other end of the sliver of a sand spit and quickly landed. Sloan kept his gaze on the tree line because Gordon could be just inside it with a rifle. He could shoot at the helo or at them once they egressed. He lifted the baseball cap he wore, wiped the sweat collecting on his brow and then settled it back on his head, the bill shading his narrowed eyes.

  He felt as if he were back in Afghanistan. Often, Sloan would ride in a Black Hawk, being ferried to an area where black ops was operating. Sometimes, it was with CAG, the Delta Force operators, or the SEALs or Army Rangers. Everyone needed a dog like Mouse when they were hunting down the fleeing enemy. Now, he wished he had his 9 mm Beretta on him, but the .45 pistol was as good, if not better. Just heavier and more unwieldy to use.

  “Can we take that M-16 with us?” Sloan asked Cade. He wanted a good military rifle in this mix, not just pistols.

  “Yeah,” Cade said, “good idea. I’ll grab it as we dismount.”

  Sloan felt a little better. “Gordon was in the Army. He’s a good marksman. I don’t think he would kidnap Dev without carrying some kind of small arsenal on him.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Cade muttered, shaking his head. “He’ll have a pistol and a rifle on him, for sure.”

  Sloan watched the ground come up in a hurry. The pilots weren’t interested in staying on the ground long because they, too, were targets. As soon as the tricycle landing gear touched down on the sandbar, Sloan took off his helmet. Cade opened the door, got rid of his helmet, removed the M-16 from above him and hopped out. Sloan got up and Mouse instantly leaped to his feet. In seconds, they were on the sand-and-gravel surface.

  Crouching, Sloan followed Cade, who was already putting a bullet in the chamber of the M-16. He was leaving the safety off and in an unknown situation like this, that was smart in Sloan’s book. Mouse trotted alongside of him. They entered the thick stand of willows covering the bar. Crouching down on one knee, Sloan heard the whistling engines of the Black Hawk start to shriek as it quickly lifted off, heading across the river, gaining altitude.

  The willows slapped Sloan smartly in the face and flailed like stinging whips across his back as he brought Mouse closer to protect him from the swinging branches. The blades were turning at over a hundred miles an hour and giving off bruising gusts, nearly knocking Sloan off his one knee planted into the ground. In less than a minute, the whipping winds and the roar of the helo’s two engines eased. Sloan looked to his right where Cade was couched. The deputy had a radio on his shoulder and was checking in with the department, giving them their GPS position. Once done, Cade gave him a thumbs-up and slowly stood. The willow stand was eight to ten feet high.

  Sloan got Mouse pointed to the closest area they could get out of the willows and yet remain hidden from the tree line opposite the island. His hearing was keyed and he heard birds singing here and there. That meant nothing was amiss. Only when it became silent around him would Sloan know there was a threatening influence to the birds, who would suddenly stop chirping or singing.

  Standing outside the willows, Cade approached him, pointing to his right where the partially hidden raft was sitting. The M-16 was strapped to his back and he held his pistol in his right hand, safety off. Sloan wasn’t going to draw his weapon unless it was necessary. Mouse, when on the hunt, became excited and could pull hard on the leash. The dog weighed seventy-five pounds and could jerk and lunge powerfully, almost knocking Sloan off his feet on some occasions.

  “Let’s check out the raft,” Cade said in a low voice. “Let Mouse get a sniff of it.”

  Mouse leaped forward, hauling hard on Sloan. He kept the dog steady, not allowing him his head. The raft was empty but Sloan allowed Mouse to sniff excitedly around the outside of it. Cade moved forward, pulling the willows away from it so the dog could sniff everywhere.

  Mouse whined and sat down, looking up at Sloan with his bright brown eyes.

  “He’s got her scent,” Sloan told Cade, his voice thick with sudden emotion.

  “Good,” the deputy said, relief in his low tone. He pointed to a bunch of tracks farther down from the raft. “Two sets of prints. Let me get cell phone photos and send them back to base.”

  Sloan saw the tracks. Forest rangers wore a certain type of boot and it had a certain tread pattern on the bottom of it. Once Cade was done and had stepped back, gesturing him toward them, Sloan released Mouse to follow Dev’s scent. He went straight to the mix of tracks. The sand was heavily disturbed and Sloan easily identified Dev’s boot. “This is Dev’s boot tread,” he said, motioning toward it. The other boot had to be Gordon’s because it was not the Forest Service tread design and had a much larger print than hers.

  “Okay,” Cade said quietly, searching the tree line, “take the lead, but let’s be alert.”

  No worries there, Sloan thought as he gave Mouse a hand signal. The dog lunged hard against the short leash. Normally, with a working harness and leash, Sloan would have the dog on a sixteen-foot retractable lead. But not today. All he had was a six-foot nylon leash. He could feel Mouse’s frustration as he tugged and jumped, wanting to rush ahead and follow Dev’s scent to find her. He didn’t dare let Mouse go because the dog could run much faster than they could and would quickly disappear into the thick forest. Sloan would have no idea where Mouse might have gone. Plus, Sloan knew Gordon was also tracking Dev because he could see imprints in the grass.

  “Dev escaped,” he told Cade, glancing over at the deputy. “Her tracks are here. Gordon’s are paralleling hers. He’s following her.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Cade muttered, frowning, his gaze searching the gloomy forest just ahead of them.

  Sloan didn’t want to say the obvious. Had Gordon found Dev? Had he recaptured her? Or was she still running? They entered the pine forest and were quickly closed up within it. Slowing, he could no longer see clear tracks, only impressions left in the soft pine-needle-covered forest floor here and there. Sloan could tell by the way Dev was digging in with the toes of her boots, the length of her stride, that she was running hard. Running to get away from Gordon. Who was now following her.

  “Is Gordon a good tracker?” Cade wondered in a quiet tone, his head swiveling, looking for trouble.

  “From what Dev told me earlier, he isn’t.”

  “That could work in her favor.”

  Mouth tightening, Sloan nodded.

  God, let it be so.

  *

  DEV HEARD WHAT she thought was a Black Hawk helicopter’s blades thunking in the distance. Her heart leaped as she heard it coming down the length of the Snake River to her left. She was easily a mile inside the forest and was far from the river. She’d never be able to sprint fast enough to break out into the open, waving her arms, hoping to be seen. The other challenge was Gordon might be close enough to see her bolt from the forest, trying to wave the helo down. He could shoot and kill her.

  The risk wasn’t worth the reward to Dev. So long as she could keep this pace, avoid being seen—she hoped that Gordon was still a poor tracker—she was going to try to make it to the Teton Park entrance gate and the bridge that led to it. Breath ragged, her calves cramping from the hard trot, she halted near a huge Douglas fir. The girth of the trunk more than hid her. She sat down, resting her back against it, wiping her sweaty face, wincing as she lifted her wounded left arm. Blood was still trickling out of the stuffed wound, but it had nearly slowed to a stop. She narrowed her eyes, but with the treetops so close together,
she couldn’t even see the helicopter. Praying it was coming from the Grand Teton Park HQ, she heard it fly south.

  Was Sloan on board? Frustration made her grimace because she couldn’t even see the helo to know if it was the sheriff’s department bird or not. Estimating she’d traveled a long way, her heart pounding in her chest, Dev tried to control her terror. She knew without a doubt that Gordon was somewhere behind her. She could feel him, that oily sensation enveloping her head to toe. Shivering, she wanted so badly to step to the banks of the Snake and drink. Her mouth was dry and she was craving water.

  Dev couldn’t do it. Gordon would probably be close to the tree line, trying to follow her. She waited, listening to the helicopter. The sound became farther and farther away, and her heart dropped. They had to be looking for her! Or was it a civilian helicopter with paying tourists on board giving them a scenic tour of the area? Groaning, wishing she knew, Dev desperately prayed it was the Teton sheriff’s helicopter. Sweat trickled into her eyes, burning them. With a muffled groan, she wiped her dirty fingers on the side of her trousers and then cleared her eyes. Blinking rapidly, Dev looked around. Everything was silent. That was a bad sign.

  Shoving to her feet, Dev turned and glanced behind her. Her heart was pumping with fear. She didn’t want to see Gordon’s dark form anywhere near her. Nothing moved. There was no sign of him. Relief sizzled through her. Dev was a target. She knew if Gordon caught sight of her, he’d fire his weapon at her. The only thing in her favor was that the trees were growing close together, making it tough for anyone to sight and shoot. As she pushed herself off from the tree, she felt fully exposed and wished mightily that she had a protective Kevlar vest to keep her back from being an easy target.

  The land started becoming bumps of hills here and there. Dev trotted in what she hoped was a zigzag pattern so that her prints would be harder to follow. She made a point of going around the small hills topped with trees. Some of the hills had holes in them, some small, some large, telling her animals of some variety were making their homes in them. It could be foxes, wolverines, badgers or bobcats. Or something much larger: a bear. And if she came upon a grizzly and startled it, the territorial animal could charge her.