Destiny Canyon

by Val Welch

  She looked over her shoulder; an armed guard closely followed the three of them. Troy caught her eye and slightly shook his head as they rounded the corner of the bunk house. There were several out buildings arranged around an open sided mess hut. The equipment looked like Korean War era army surplus. She felt like Hot Lips, Trapper John and Hawkeye could burst out of one of the hooches at any time.

  Joaquin passed in front of her, still slightly limping and eased down at one of the picnic style tables. Troy pushed Shelby down onto the bench opposite Joaquin and looked at the guard. “Do you want anything to eat, Russ?”

  “No. I’m fine,” he said, trying to pry his eyes from Shelby.

  She looked him over, and then smiled up at him. “Hi Russ, I’m Special Agent Shelby Ryan and you’re under arrest.”

  He grinned and pointed his chin at her still handcuffed hands. “Yeah. I’m real scared of you.”

  “Just stay away from her feet. She kicks like a mule,” Joaquin said, with a grimace.

  “I wouldn’t be sitting where you are. She could still kick you right under the table,” Russ pointed out. Joaquin looked under the table, saw Shelby’s feet and gingerly moved down the bench a couple of feet.

  “What kind of move was that, Special Agent Ryan?” Russ asked. He put his booted foot up on Joaquin’s bench and leaned in toward her.

  She smiled up at him. “Russ, it’s a standard issue, kick the asshole who kidnapped you in the nuts, drop kick.”

  Russ laughed, his eyes meeting hers. “He sure dropped.”

  Joaquin shot him a dirty look as Troy came back to the table with a tray of sandwiches and coffee. “Special Agent Ryan, you look cold. Do you want my jacket?” Russ asked, leaning his rifle against the table and unzipping his parka.

  “Thanks, I am cold. But, won’t you be cold now?”

  He moved toward her with his jacket. “I’ve got another one over in my hut. I’ll get it in a minute.”

  Troy looked at Joaquin. “Where are the keys to the cuffs? She can’t eat like that.”

  Joaquin slowly stood, put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the key. “Cuff one hand to something,” he said, handing them to Troy and stepping back.

  Troy moved behind her and unlocked the cuffs. “No. She’s going to be good. Aren’t you, Shelby?”

  Shelby picked up Russ’s coat, slipped into it and grabbed a sandwich. “What’s the point? Where could I go? There’s only two ways out, drown in the river or get picked off on the road by one of the three snipers you have positioned around the perimeter.”

  Russ watched Shelby devour the sandwich. “Four. There are four snipers. You probably missed the one just above the ravine.”

  She shrugged and winked at Russ. “Four then.”

  Troy sat next to her and took a long drink of coffee. “Yeah you’re right. There’s no other way out of here.”

  Russ looked around, then leaned forward and whispered. “There’s another way, but you’d have to be crazy to take it.”

  “I’ve never heard of another one,” Joaquin said, sipping his coffee.

  “I think you’d have to be half mountain goat to do it, but there’s an old Indian trail that takes off behind the bunk house,” Russ said, nodding over his shoulder toward a low slung building at the base of the mountain. “Of course, the snipers could pick you off there too.”

  Troy offered the plate of sandwiches to Russ. “Has anything interesting happened around here lately?”

  Russ took a sandwich. “You kidding? This place is so boring. The only one in lately was that forest service guy who brings supplies every week. I think the river is too high to cross; he almost lost his truck in it when he left.”

  “Yeah,” Troy agreed. “That’s not exactly a trip I want to make again soon.”

  “You better get used to the idea. I heard we’re bugging out any day now,” Russ said quietly.

  “Really,” Troy said, looking at Joaquin.

  Shelby finished her sandwich, took a long sip of coffee and belched. “Sorry,” she said, looking around and grinning.

  “I’ve never seen a girl eat like that. Didn’t they feed you today?” Russ asked, giving Joaquin a dirty look.

  “No, they didn’t feed me, and they bashed me over the head. I think I need stitches,” she said, gingerly feeling the top of her head.

  Russ walked around and peered at her head. “Yeah. We better clean that up. I’ll get the first-aid kit.” He slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked back to the kitchen area.

  Joaquin looked at her. “What kind of games are you playing here? I think you ruined me.”

  She leaned over the table. “You don’t think I bought that bullshit story you two spun on the way up here, do you?”

  His eyes widened. “Shelby, human life means nothing to these people. All of our lives depend on what we do here.”

  Troy put his hand on the table between them. “Joaquin, relax. Something tells me she could rip your throat out, take your gun, shoot me and Russ and be out of here in about thirty seconds flat.”

  Joaquin took a deep breath and leaned back. “She’s fucking with me, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she’s probably pissed at Gabe, and God help you, you look just like him.”

  “I’m sitting right here and can hear everything you two assholes are saying and you’re both full of shit,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

  Shelby leaned over the table and shoved her finger in Joaquin’s face. “This stunt you pulled is going to get him killed and so help me you’re fucking dead when that happens.”

  Troy grabbed her by the belt loop of her jeans, hauled her back across the table and plopped her down onto the bench. “Gabe will not just charge in here to rescue you. He’s coming, but he’ll hold back, analyze the situation and try to minimize the risks. We’ll all be out of here before he has a chance to find us anyhow.”

  She spun around and glared at Troy. “I’m not talking about Gabe. I’m talking about Carson. He’s going to charge in here with guns blazing and get himself killed and there’s not a thing I can do about it,” she said, angrily swiping at the tears rolling down her face.

  Troy handed her a wad of napkins from the tray, and then put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. Gabe won’t let that happen.”

  She used the napkins to mop up her face and blow her nose.

  Joaquin watched the procedure, looked at Troy and asked, “Who’s Carson?”

  Troy shrugged.

  Shelby took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. “He’s my partner. I’m the one who always has to hold him back from going John Wayne.” She folded her arms and laid her head down on the table.

  “I need a nap and I need to pee,” she said as Russ came back with a professional looking first-aid kit.

  “You shouldn’t sleep for at least twelve hours after a head injury,” Russ said, opening the kit and then inspecting the gash in her head. “You need a few stitches. Are you okay with me doing them?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you have any medical training?”

  Russ looked up from rummaging in the first-aid kit. “I’m a certified EMT with two years of medical school under my belt.”

  “Stitch away.” She watched as he pulled on latex gloves and filled a syringe with liquid. “I might need some pain meds; that needle looks lethal.”

  “I’m just going to irrigate the wound with an antiseptic and lanicane solution before I start stitching. It should numb your scalp.”

  She glared at Joaquin. “At least you didn’t need stitches.”

  He hung his head. “I’m sorry I hit you. You were going for your gun and I panicked. I’ve never kidnapped anyone before.”

  Russ handed her a large gauze pad. “Hold this on your forehead and don’t let any of this stuff run into your eyes.”

  Shelby held the pad in place, looked up and saw Nick Malone calmly watching the procedure from across the hut.

  All of them tensed up
, especially Russ. His attitude became very brusque as he began to treat her wound. “Hold still. I’m ready to start.”

  She glared at Joaquin and felt each and every one of the dozen stitches it took to close her scalp. After he finished, Russ picked up the medical kit and disappeared back into the kitchen briefly before returning to take up his rifle again.

  Malone crossed the hut, sat down next to Joaquin and smiled at her. “Agent Ryan, I hope you’re feeling better. As I said earlier, I’m sorry if these two were rough with you.”

  Shelby felt a cold shiver run up her spine as he smiled at her and it pissed her off. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

  “I’m Dante, leader of the Earth Freedom Alliance. Our mandate is to seek retribution from those who defile and exploit this beautiful land of ours,” he said grandly, gesturing toward the breathtaking view of the river gouge.

  Troy was right, the guy was obviously a lunatic, but Shelby was beyond caring. “I have not defiled nor exploited this land.” She leaned toward him. “I’ve just tried to stop those who spread terror and mayhem, under the guise of environmental conservation. We know exactly who you are, Nick Malone. You’re a delusional, meth-pedaling loser.”

  His face hardened as he turned on her. “You’re going to deeply regret that before I’m done with you.” He stood and pointed at Troy. “Lock her in the hole, and then come to the communications office. We have a satellite window coming up.”

  Joaquin abruptly stood and faced Dante. “No, that was not our deal. She’ll die in there.”

  Dante laughed. “Joaquin, I know how much you love your beautiful wife Rebeca. And now, you finally have the son you have always dreamt of. Don’t take them for granted.”

  Troy stood and took Joaquin’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get her settled so we can send the e-mail.”

  Dante left the table, paused to talk to Russ and then walked across the compound.

  Shelby was shaking with rage and fear. She’d never wanted to kill anyone as much as she wanted to kill Dante. “Russ, just give me the rifle. I’ll end this right now and we’ll all go home,” she said as Russ walked back over, holding the rifle on her.

  Russ sadly shook his head and motioned over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.” He avoided Shelby’s eyes as she walked past him with Troy and Joaquin walking stiffly on each side of her. Shelby was positive Russ wouldn’t shoot her and knew she’d be able to take the rifle from him. She lunged toward Russ and Troy grabbed her.

  “No, Shelby, they’re watching us. One of the snipers will put a slug right through your head,” he whispered, dragging her back from Russ. “There’s a ledge up on the wall, climb up there and wait. We’ll get you out as soon as we can.”

  Joaquin turned around and looked at Russ. “Can’t we at least give her a sleeping bag?”

  Russ quickly scanned the area behind them. “Yeah, there’s one in my hut. Hurry up.”

  Joaquin ran over to the hut while Russ and Troy continued moving her toward a makeshift storage building next to the bunk house. Joaquin came back clutching a sleeping bag as they led her around the corner of the building. She stopped in her tracks when she saw it. “No,” she screamed, shaking her head.

  “Shelby, Shelby … please. Just try to be calm,” Troy pleaded, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Come on. We’ve got to get her in there now,” Russ whispered through clenched teeth while frantically looking around behind them again.

  Shelby’s mind raced as she clicked through the only two options she could think of, die quickly now or slowly in there. Troy was dragging her closer as Joaquin opened the wooden door set into the rock face of the mountain. The smell of death and a blast of freezing air hit her in the face and she made the decision to take the quick death.

  She allowed the three of them to lead her into the tight confines of the mine opening and then made her move. She reared up and elbowed Troy in the throat. He grunted in surprise as she spun and kneed him in the groin. Russ managed a quick step backward into the wall of the mine before she delivered two quick kicks to his throat. She wrenched the rifle from his grasp as he slid down the wall dazed. Joaquin stood frozen, looking at her in absolute horror as she spun around, wordlessly held the rifle on him and backed out of the mine. She slammed and latched the door and then ran like hell along the windowless back of the bunk house.

  She stopped with her back to the bunk house wall and considered her options: over the ravine into the roaring river or up the indian trail in the growing darkness. Neither was optimal, but the trail was closest. She slung the rifle over her shoulder and started running up the faintly discernable trail praying the snipers were all asleep at the wheel.

  She kept moving upward, not looking back, sometimes reduced to scrambling over the loose shale covered trail on her hands and knees. More than once she rethought her decision as nothing but vast space existed mere inches from where she forced her feet to tread.

  After darkness fell, she kept moving, not only for fear of what was behind, also for fear of what was yet to come. The temperature was dropping and she prayed she hadn’t escaped her captors only to die of hypothermia. She knew from her survival training that until she found shelter and fire she had to keep moving to stay alive.

  When the trail transitioned from the sheer canyon walls onto a boulder strewn drainage, she stopped to rest for a few minutes and take inventory. The rising moon helped to light the night as she leaned against a boulder, warming her bloodied and freezing hands in the pockets of Russ’s parka. She felt something bulky in the inside pocket, unzipped the parka and fished his gloves out. As she eased her hands into them, she chided herself for not checking sooner. She continued her search and found a cell phone. Please God, she prayed, as she powered it up. Yes! It had power, now all she needed was a signal. She looked up the drainage and realized it was still one hell of a climb before she’d be out of this mess. She powered off the cell, put it safely back in the inside pocket and began climbing up the drainage.

  Thirty-Three

  Gabe rolled the topo map out onto a boulder, found their location and pointed to it. “This is where we are right now, Yellow Jacket Spring. I think I remember hearing about an abandoned mining operation on down this canyon where it drops down below the rim. See right here, where it ends at the north fork of White River? Then the river goes through this narrow gorge a couple of miles before it drops down to drain into the Salt River on the Apache reservation,” he said, tracing his finger along the trail on the map.

  Walter looked at the map, then pointed to a lone mountain peak looming a few miles southwest of them. “Yep, I’ve been back there. That’s Cibecue Peak over there. The mine sits at the base of it and White River runs through the gorge right along side it. It’s one rough son of a bitch though. The last few miles are in the river bottom and you’ve got to cross the river to get up to the mine. Hell, I think you’re right though. That’s where they’re headed.”

  Carson looked at the map, took out his cell and checked for a signal. “I wonder if I should try climbing out of this canyon and calling for a chopper to check it out.”

  Gabe rolled up the map. “I think we’d be at the mine before you could climb out of here.”

  Walter looked at Gabe. “If I remember rightly, that riverbed is wide open. We’ll be sitting ducks riding in there.”

  Gabe looked at the peak in the distance and then back at Walter. “Yeah, I was worried about that. Maybe you and the dogs should head on back.”

  Walter shook his head, turned and spat. “Naw. There’s a spot next to the river where me and the dogs can lay up while you and the G-man walk in there.”

  Gabe had worried this could be a problem. The old coot had a habit of not knowing when to pack it in. He gestured toward the clouds that were steadily building to the north. “I don’t know, Walter. That front is moving in. There’s no sense in all of us being out here in it.”

  “Gabe’s right, Walter. Besides, you can make faster time
going back and could call for a chopper as soon as you get a cell signal,” Carson said.

  Walter looked at the two of them, turned and walked toward the horses. “Come on, assholes, we’re burning daylight.”

  Gabe shook his head and doggedly followed. “Dammit, Walter, I’m ordering you to turn back. You did your job, you got us here and now your services are no longer required.”

  Walter ignored Gabe as he cinched up his saddle, gave Moses the scent and mounted his horse. “Gabe, I may be an old man, but I’ve still got some life in me and I’m seeing this through to the end. Mount up and let’s go get Doc’s girl.”

  Gabe looked back at Carson who just shrugged his shoulders, mounted up and waited. Gabe realized he was wasting time they didn’t have. It was a lost cause. Short of tying him to a tree, Walter was going. He threw his one good hand up and said, “All right. But, you’re staying at the river and waiting for us.”

  Walter ignored him and trotted ahead as Moses picked up the scent and hit the trail. Gabe mounted up and he and Carson followed Moses down a heavily treed slope for the next few miles until he abruptly started circling in a small clearing. Walter dismounted, stooped over Moses and waved them in.

  Gabe dismounted and walked over. “What do you have, Walter?”

  “More bear piss and the knobby tire tracks are back,” he said, holding Moses back as he tried to crawl into some nearby oak scrub.

  Gabe watched Moses for a couple of moments with a sinking feeling. The hound was obviously on the scent and there was something in the thick tangle of brush. He looked at Walter and said, “Let him go.”