“The arrow.”
“God, so many things.” Joss rubbed at her forehead. “What’s the point of it all? If it was just about Moody, everything would’ve stopped after he was killed.”
“Maybe someone wanted to stop the filming.”
“That’s good. A definite thought. A publicity stunt set up by Lauren or Bradley?”
“Seems like you would want to stick around if you were hoping for publicity.”
“True. A stalker fan?”
That was an angle Shep hadn’t considered. “Have you ever had one of those?”
“Several. At least one a year.”
“Maybe this person is after you.”
“And how do we know it’s only one person? What if someone followed the other group and someone else is behind us?”
Shep tried to keep all the complicated strings separate in his mind, but they were like delicate gold chains that had all been stored together and knotted around one another. Usually, he liked nothing better than to untie them and untangle them. But this time, he needed to be able to see each one individually. “We only have to worry about our chain.”
“What?”
“Even if there are multiple people trying to mess with the show, we only need to worry about the one following us.”
Yeah, now they were getting somewhere. If they could pick this apart just a little more, Shep would know his next move. He liked being able to talk this through with Joss. She had a cool, logical side.
“When Moody disappeared from camp,” she said, “it changed the tenor of the show. But with Greg and Zach still there, the filming did go on. However, your role changed. You had to transition from local guide to the grand poohbah of the whole operation. No one else could get the group out of the mountains and back to Steele Ridge.”
Puck groaned, and Shep stroked his head gently, trying to comfort him.
“I never thought the fawn might be related to what was happening in our camp. Not until we found Moody’s body.” Sure, it had been gruesome, but Shep didn’t think it had been a big personal blow to anyone, least of all him. He hadn’t liked Moody. He would’ve never wished him dead, but his death hadn’t changed much in Shep’s world.
“Then The Shitheads took most of your stuff and the sat phone. That was a big blow.”
“But they left, and that was a good thing.”
“You were still stuck with me. More than stuck. Then you felt responsible for someone you weren’t all that keen to take out into the wilderness in the first place.”
That was true, but by that time, he’d begun to feel differently about her. “Maybe whoever followed us saw it that way.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I think I made it clear that I liked you.” More than liked. Was there a level between like and love? Why did emotions have to be so damn confusing?
She waved away his words with a casual motion that made Shep feel as if he were the one who had taken an arrow to the chest. What did that mean? That she was waving away his admission? That she didn’t believe someone like him could have feelings for someone like her?
“Then we’re back to the fire, the hot dogs, and the arrow.” She ran a hand down Puck’s tail with an easy affection that Shep wanted for himself. This was why he shouldn’t try to figure out love. What he wanted, what he was able to give, would never be enough for a woman.
And right now, Puck was the most important thing. “The hot dogs were for Puck.”
“Yes,” she said, her hands going to her hair and pulling, “but don’t you see that’s about you, too? Puck is your best friend. How better to get to someone than to harm someone they love?”
How would he feel if someone hurt Joss? Would he crawl to a ledge and throw up? Just the thought made Shep’s stomach pitch. Yeah, he’d definitely heave if something happened to her.
“There were four famous people with our group and you want me to believe that all this bullshit was about me?”
“Dammit, Shep!” More hair pulling. “You’re supposed to be the logical one. Look at it clearly, closely. And you’ll see it’s all about you.”
21
Joss knew when she’d finally gotten through to Shep. He dropped his head. “Puck, I am sorry. I’m the reason you are hurt.”
“No,” Joss said forcefully. “Some shitty person is the reason he’s hurt.”
“I should not have brought Puck with me.”
“Would you have made it four days without him?”
“That doesn’t matter.” Shep was avoiding her gaze, actively turning his head away when she tried to catch his eye.
“How do you think he would’ve felt if you’d left him back in Steele Ridge? He wouldn’t have understood.”
“I would’ve left him with Maggie and Jay,” he insisted. “He loves both of them.”
“I’m sure he does, but you’re his person.” She took his hand, made sure her hold was tight. “You, Shep. No one else.”
“I have to figure out a way to get him out of here as fast as possible.”
“Can we drag him like you would someone with a broken leg?”
“Yes. It would be painful, and we shouldn’t get back on the trail if someone is after us.”
“That just means we’ll have to leave the son of a bitch up here on the mountain, doesn’t it?”
“And the best way to do that is to set a trap he or she can’t get out of.”
Even though her heart was raw and bleeding at Puck’s situation, she knew Shep needed her encouragement and support. “Now we’re talking. Let’s nail this heartless SOB.”
* * *
Kingston and the rock star were holed up like scared mice in a cave about a quarter mile away. The winner had especially enjoyed seeing Kingston lean over the ledge up there and puke like a teenager who’d guzzled a six-pack of warm beer.
The guy was usually so stoic. So superior. So fucking strange.
Now, it was pretty funny to see he did have some kind of heart.
Kinda too bad about the dog, though. The winner would’ve taken him as a prize. A few months without Kingston, and the dog would forget he ever existed. Dogs were dumb that way.
But that dog was the smartest stupid animal the winner had ever met.
When the arrow hit his dog, Kingston had run like a bat outta hell, so the injury was serious. Now, if they hid out in that cave for too long, the dog would definitely bite it. They didn’t have much in the way of supplies.
After all, the winner had made sure to slowly swipe anything that would make survival too easy.
The dog’s bad luck.
That was okay. The winner could get another dog. No hand-me-downs from Kingston needed. The winner’s dog would be better. Smarter and more loyal. Loyal only to the winner.
But how to end the contest with Kingston now? Having him and the rock star die of dehydration, starvation, or hypothermia in that cave wouldn’t be a lick of fun. A total chickenshit way to kick the guy’s ass.
It was time to make a new plan.
* * *
Although Shep didn’t have many of his original supplies to work with, he had a whole damn mountain of options beyond the mouth of the cave. But if he were the one tracking prey, he would be keeping an eye on wherever the prey had settled. Which meant their hiding place in the cave wasn’t a secret.
Caves were tough places to wage an attack against because there was little chance of approaching unseen. However, they also had a fatal weakness. Only one point of escape.
Sometimes.
“I need to explore this cave.”
“If you’re making a plan, I don’t want to be left out,” Joss said.
“No plan yet,” he assured her. “But a little time alone in the dark will help my mind start to work one out. I won’t be gone long.” He handed Joss a rock. “It’s not the best weapon in the world, but it’s better than nothing.” Then he stood and turned toward the darkened inner recesses of the cave, but Joss caught him by the hand.
“Shep?”
/>
“Yeah?”
“This would be a good time to kiss me.”
“We cannot have sex right now.”
“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about the kind of kiss that reassures your lover that you care about her and that you are coming back, no matter what.”
That made a sort of logical sense. Shep leaned down and put his lips on hers. Joss met him with a fierceness that he hadn’t expected. Warm lips and shallow breath that carried affection, yes. But something more. A sort of uncertainty colored lightly with desperation.
Was this the kind of kiss soldiers received before they left for war?
He grabbed a lock of her hair and pulled her face closer to his. With his mouth, he tried to answer the questions she seemed to be asking.
Will you come back?
Yes.
Will you figure out a way out of this?
Yes.
Will you keep us safe?
Yes.
Do you love me?
His mind stuttered. Maybe he was reading things into Joss’s kiss that weren’t really there.
She’d never said she loved him, and he was wrestling with imaginary questions.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss that his brain had probably made entirely too much of. “Thank you for caring about Puck.”
“He’s part of you. How can I not care about him and for him?”
Her question trailed Shep as he set off to explore the cave. Did what she’d said mean she cared about him?
She and Puck were counting on him to save them, and if he could find another way to get them all out of this damn cave, he would feel a lot better about their situation.
His footsteps echoed around him, and the scritch of little feet told him they weren’t completely alone in this cave. As long as the other cave dwellers weren’t interested in being overly neighborly, that was fine.
The farther he explored, the darker the passage became. He desperately wanted to save the battery power on their one remaining flashlight. But when he rammed his head into a low-hanging rock, he had to surrender. The flashlight clicked on, but the beam was a ghost of what it had been. They’d be without artificial light soon, probably before he made it back to Joss and Puck.
Shep dropped to all fours to ease his way through a tight stretch. The rocks above jutted downward, making him feel claustrophobic. Making him feel desperate and uncertain.
Making him reach for his pocket.
Dammit, he didn’t have the time or the space to fuck around with his piece of paracord right now.
Keep going.
Before he could navigate his way out of the coffin tunnel, his flashlight gave up. Just blip. One second, a thread of hazy light. The next, nothing.
Although he was crawling blind, Shep realized when the tunnel opened up. The quality of the air changed, seemed more expansive. He reached above him to feel for the ceiling. Sharp rocks bit at his hand, but there was definitely more space.
And it seemed as if a shaft of light was filtering toward him from up ahead. Could be his imagination, so Shep blinked again and again to clear his sight. The path was brighter. Still shadowy, but light was seeping in from somewhere.
He crawled faster.
His heart was beating like crazy inside his chest. Beating with hope.
Shep shimmied through an arch of rock and into a chamber high enough for him to stand. And there… there to the right was the lucky break he’d been searching for.
22
It seemed as if Shep had disappeared into the darkness behind her decades ago. Every sound, every scurry made Joss jump. She had to calm down. Her anxiety couldn’t be good for Puck.
His breathing was becoming more irregular. More worrisome.
“It’s okay, Puck. He’s coming back. And we’re all going to be fine and live happily ever after.” Well, probably not all together, but they could each be happy in their own spots on opposite coasts. Joss would return to her music, and Shep would return to leading adventures for noncelebrities.
Unfortunately, now Puck wasn’t even bothering to open his eyes when she spoke to him.
“You have to hang on. You have to.” She couldn’t imagine a world without this amazing animal in it. Joss scooted around so she could keep a close eye on Puck and see both the cave mouth and the dark recesses behind them. Surely if Shep had been gone this long, he’d found something. Something good.
Or gotten lost.
Or been bashed on the head with a loose rock.
Or been speared through the chest with a stalactite.
That’s not helpful.
A shuffling sound echoed from the darkness, and Joss scrambled to her feet, squatting near Puck to protect him from whatever bloodthirsty animal might be coming for them both. “I will mess you up,” she whispered. “Just try me, and you’ll see what a crazy-ass, blue-haired rock star can do.”
More shuffling, and huffing, and what sounded like the clatter of bones. Bones. Oh, God, it had already eaten Shep!
That was it, she had to do something.
Joss jumped to a standing position and raised her arms like she was the biggest, baddest animal ever to terrorize a forest. Then she charged into the gloom, screaming like the world was ending.
The animal’s shape started to take form. It was big, much bigger than her.
OhmyGod, OhmyGod, OhmyGod.
It was standing on its back legs. Had to be a bear. A Kodiak. But Joss couldn’t back down now. It would feast on her and then have Puck for dessert.
“Get the fuck out of my cave, you motherfucker. I will fuck your bear ass up so bad that you’ll be ashamed to show your face in the woods. Aaaaaaah—get out!” She tried to dance around it to the right, herd it far left. But it dropped something and lunged for—
“Jojo!”
She fought it like a wild thing. Nails, hands, teeth, feet. She thrashed against the bear in a frenzy.
“Jojo, it’s me. Shep.”
Brutal relief shot through her system like she’d suddenly mainlined all the heroin in Los Angeles County. Her head went woozy and her knees went gooey. She stumbled back and cracked her head against the rock wall.
“I think you need to sit down.” Shep held her arms, bearing most of her weight as he tried to lower her to the ground.
“No, I have to get back to Puck.”
“How is he?”
“Not great.” She stumbled back to him and dropped cross-legged beside his head. “Please tell me you figured something out.”
Shep stroked a gentle hand over his dog’s flank and the expression of concern on his face twisted Joss’s heart. “I did, but it’s going to take some work, and we don’t have a lot of time.”
“Just tell me what I need to do.”
* * *
Joss didn’t look as if she was in much better shape than Puck, but her promise to pitch in however he needed was delivered with a straightened spine and a tight mouth. And truth was, it didn’t matter if she was wearing thin. He couldn’t execute this plan without her.
“I am going to construct a couple of traps outside the cave. If this person knows we are in here, which I think they do, then they’ll come for us eventually. Fortunately, there are really only two ways to approach this cave. So when the person takes one of those paths, a trap will spring, and the son-of-a-bitch should end up with a spear in him.”
“Okay. I like it.” Joss nodded. “But if this person is watching the cave, how are we supposed to leave the cave to set the traps?”
“Gimme a sec.” Shep went back into the darkness and returned with an armful of sticks and limbs. “I found a small exit point way back in the cave tunnels.”
“Which is how you were able to gather all this.”
“We’ll prep the materials for the traps here, then head for the exit point I found. While you and Puck stay just inside the cave, I’ll circle around and construct the actual traps. After that, I’ll come back to get you. We’ll hike north and farther east for a while befor
e heading south again.”
“If we can just sneak north, why the traps?”
Because Shep wanted to hurt the person who’d shot his dog. Who’d killed Moody. Who’d set fire to their camp. Who’d terrorized Joss. “I want to slow him down, but more than that, I hope one of these traps spears him right through the balls.”
“Wow. You’ve got a mean streak that I hadn’t noticed.”
“I don’t love a lot of things. I don’t know how to love a lot of things. But the things I think I love, no one is going to hurt or take away from me.”
Joss placed her palm on his cheek. “You are an amazing man, Shep. Puck is a lucky dog.”
Warmth flowed over him. Did she realize that he was talking about her, too? She was one of the things he was beginning to believe he loved.
“What do you need me to do?”
Shep sorted the sticks and branches into piles. “Leaves need to be stripped from any branches. Then we’ll need to sharpen all the ends.”
“What kind of trap is this exactly?”
“It’s called a spring spear trap. Normally used to hunt along game trails.”
“But animals are smaller than a full-grown person.”
“This thing will take down a boar if it’s set up properly.”
“Shep, how many ways to kill someone do you think you know?”
“Enough.” He pushed a pile of branches toward her. “Strip these as well as you can while I start whittling down ground spikes.”
The stripping and notching took them longer than Shep would’ve liked. He couldn’t chance placing the spear in a tree or bush and having the person see and disable the trap, so he’d have to set it up lower, which meant they needed more ground stakes to stabilize the whole thing.
When he’d sharpened the spears and stakes for so long that his hand was bleeding, Joss took the multi-tool from him and finished off the ground stakes. They didn’t have to be as precise or sharp. What mattered most was that one of those spears made it into this bastard’s body.
“The trip to the exit point isn’t going to be easy,” he told Joss. “We’ll have to drag Puck through part of it because it’s not high enough for either of us to stand. I’ll carry him for as long as I can.”
Striking Edge Page 22
