by Terri Reed
“No way. We’d be caught for sure. We’re going north. There’s a town about fifteen miles away. And a campground even closer.”
Jeff sucked in a sharp breath. “We’ll be crossing the international border.”
“Yes. The Canadians will help. But we have to keep moving. When Sherman discovers you’ve escaped, he’ll tear these woods apart looking for you. He goes crazy when anyone tries to leave.”
“How does he get all those men to come to the compound?” Tessa asked.
“Some answer ads from the classifieds.” The guy shrugged. “Others are from the streets. Sherman lures them in with the promise of a job, a warm meal and a clean place to live. But once they are here, they’re enslaved. Trapped. Held prisoner. He supplies them with all the weed they want. Most don’t try to leave, but occasionally one tries and they are always caught.”
Tessa rubbed her arms. “What happens to the ones that try to escape?”
“The shed. No food or water. Eventually, they comply and go back to work.”
Sherman starved them into submission. Jeff couldn’t wait to bring the man to justice. “Has anyone gotten away?”
“Not that I know of.” He glanced around as if expecting the armed guards from the compound to materialize from behind the trees. “We need to keep moving.”
The man faded into the inky darkness.
“Come on, we don’t want to lose him,” Tessa said, tugging on his hand.
“Who is he?” Jeff asked.
“Ranger Randy,” she said. “He picked me up from the airport and brought me to the ranger station.”
“And he’s working for Sherman?”
“He’s his nephew.”
Surprised, Jeff shook his head. More questions rose, but he pushed them back. He increased his speed, urging Tessa along.
Though the air was cold, sweat gathered on Jeff’s back, soaking into his shirt.
He became aware of a noise that grew steadily louder the longer and deeper they trekked through the dark forest. The sound triggered recognition. A waterfall.
Aaron had said there was a stream not far from the compound. There were many streams and rivers made by runoff from the glaciers at the peaks of the Cascades, which flowed down through the forest and emptied into the many lakes of the national park.
Including Glen Lake, where Aaron’s toxic carelessness had contaminated the water.
Tessa drew to an abrupt halt, forcing Jeff to stop.
“Do you hear that?” she asked in a panicked whisper.
“The waterfall? Yes. It’s pretty close.”
“No, not that. Listen.”
The urgency in her tone prickled his skin. He strained to hear what she had. Filtering out the sound of the waterfall, Jeff heard another noise that sent his heart pounding.
“What are you two doing?” Ranger Randy hustled to their side. “We’ve got to keep going.”
Dread filled Jeff. “Dogs. They have tracking dogs.”
Randy cursed. “We have to reach the waterfall, or we’re done for.” He turned and ran, disappearing into the night.
Gripping Tessa’s hand, Jeff urged her to race after Ranger Randy and sent up a desperate prayer for safety.
* * *
Tessa struggled to catch her breath. The altitude had increased considerably as they raced through the forest, but it was fear constricting her lungs and throat, making the intake of oxygen difficult. Not even the memory of Jeff’s kiss could contain the panic nipping at her heels. She doubted the dogs Sherman used to find them would only nip.
“I didn’t see dogs in the compound,” Jeff said, sounding winded.
“I didn’t, either. But we didn’t see that much of the operation.”
“Enough to know Sherman and his men are dangerous people. The dogs must be kept close by if they’re onto our scent so quickly.”
She tightened her hold on Jeff’s hand, so thankful for his steady and reassuring presence. Though terror and exhaustion threatened to leech her stamina, she pressed on, drawing strength from the man at her side.
He could easily leave her in the dust. But she could feel his restraint in the way he shortened his steps to accommodate her shorter legs, even though she was at the max of her stride. Running had never been her strong suit. Aerobic dance classes at the gym and ice skating were the ways she stayed fit.
She pushed herself harder. They had to make it to the waterfall. The closer they came, the more the noise of the rushing water drowned out all other sounds.
“This way!” Randy called from somewhere to their left.
Jeff changed directions. She lurched and staggered to keep up.
“You okay?” Jeff asked, his voice barely discernible over the roar of the waterfall that now had risen to a deafening decibel.
Knowing that even if she yelled back her response he’d never hear her, she squeezed his hand in answer.
They broke through the old-growth forest to the edge of a wide stream. Moonlight danced off churning water and revealed a towering waterfall framed by jagged, moss-covered boulders.
“We have to cross.” Randy leaned close to yell in their faces. “It’s waist-deep near the base of the waterfall. Once we’re on the other side, we’ll head due north. There’s a campground and ranger station.”
Tessa swallowed back a mouthful of anxiety. The cascading water falling into a wide pool and flowing downstream would be icy cold, not to mention the current would be difficult to navigate. Jeff tugged on her hand to gain her attention. He stared at her, his blue eyes almost translucent in the glow from the moon.
“We can do this.”
She read his lips more than heard his words. She gave him a trembling smile and nodded.
Randy plunged into the water and waded toward the other side of the stream.
Taking a deep breath, Tessa gave Jeff a thumbs-up sign.
He grinned, approval shining through and making her pulse skitter. She wanted to be brave and courageous for him.
Hand in hand they waded into the plunge pool collecting the cascading falls. Her breath caught in her chest as the freezing water soaked through her boots, her jeans and dug into her skin like icy talons. The shifting sand clutched at her boots. She fought to take each step through the current plucking at her, trying to take her downstream. She prayed none of them fell into the polluted water. It was bad enough it was touching their skin.
The water reached her waist, drenching the lightweight jacket and shirt beneath, sending frozen waves of shock through her system. She shivered. Her legs had gone numb. Ice filled her veins. Every cell seemed to freeze. She was becoming a human Popsicle. She had to look to be sure she still clung to Jeff.
A shout rang through the darkness.
She looked over her shoulder to see men and dogs emerging from the forest. One man raised a rifle.
She froze as a scream built in her chest.
Jeff’s arm snaked around her waist and lifted her off her feet, gripping her against his chest to carry her to the stream’s bank.
The sound of a rifle shot echoed over the waterfall. Water spit at her where the bullet tore into the stream a few inches from them. Jeff battled the rough current and the loamy earth. They emerged onto the riverbank and crawled up the side of the embankment to solid ground. Randy pulled her from Jeff’s arms and pushed her forward.
“Go! Go!” Randy shouted.
Tessa ran, her limbs jerky and awkward, numb from the frigid water. The woods offered cover. She had to make it. They all had to make it.
More gunfire erupted.
A man screamed.
Tessa spun around with her heart in her throat. Randy staggered down the embankment and fell face-first into the rushing water. Jeff lunged for him, but Randy was too far out of reach, his body alr
eady swirling away in the rapid current.
Tears blurred Tessa’s vision. Jeff raced toward her, looping an arm around her waist and forcing her into the forest.
All around her, trees loomed indistinguishable from each other in her misery. Branches reached out like knives, cutting and ripping through her clothes, her skin. She stumbled over a small shrub. Jeff’s hand on her arm kept her upright when she’d have fallen down onto the decaying forest floor.
For what seemed like forever, they ran, her body abused by the forest, her lungs aching, her heart as heavy as her waterlogged boots.
Finally, Jeff pulled her into the hollowed-out remains of a fallen dead tree.
Shivering, she sat as her mind replayed the image of Randy falling into the frigid water. Was he dead?
A knot of guilt rose up from deep within her soul and constricted her chest. If he hadn’t helped them...
“Shhh,” Jeff crooned in her ear. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed some warmth back into her limbs. “Breathe.”
“Randy.” The word came out on a sob.
“I know, I know,” Jeff whispered, his voice reflecting the sorrow and regret she felt. He pressed her head to his chest. His heart beat in a fast staccato against her cheek. She let the rhythm lull her to a dreamlike state where the cold couldn’t reach her.
“Hey, hey!” Jeff’s voice penetrated through the fog in her brain. “Don’t sleep. You need to stay awake.”
“So sleepy,” she mumbled. Her teeth clattered. Her heart pumped at a sluggish rate. She fought to keep her eyes open. Her limbs had gone numb. And strangely she didn’t care.
“It’s the cold.” Jeff grasped her wrist. Her pulse had slowed, just like her breathing. Even the shivers had slackened. He had to get her to someplace warm and dry where she could shed the wet clothes and shoes. If he didn’t, she was at risk of going into shock.
What he wouldn’t give right now for her bag of essentials.
But it wasn’t only the cold seeping in that was shutting down her system. She was no doubt struggling with witnessing Randy being shot. Jeff would give anything to wipe that memory from her mind, but he couldn’t. Only time would lessen the horror of it.
He listened to the forest, straining to hear their pursuers. The waterfall had become a dull roar underscored by the sound of barking. Jeff had to assume Sherman’s men had crossed the river and were tracking them. Which meant they couldn’t stay within the shelter of this dead tree. It would be only a matter of time, most likely minutes, before they were discovered.
Forcing his numb legs to move, he shifted and got his feet beneath himself. “Come on, sweetheart, we have to keep going.”
Tessa shook her head. The tie that had held her red curls back was long gone now. Her hair fell over her face, muffling her voice, “Can’t we rest more?”
“No.” A sense of urgency niggled at the back of his neck, galvanizing him into action. He slipped his arms under hers and lifted her to her feet. “Just a little farther. Randy said there’s a campground not far from here.”
Once upright, she swayed. He caught her about the waist. “One foot in front of the other,” he coaxed.
His words were meant for her, but he found he needed them, too. His limbs were chilled to the bone. Movement hurt. Each step radiated upward in a spark of pain. But he forced himself to do as he said, put one foot in front of the other.
Had the cold water forced the men and dogs to turn back? Jeff prayed so with every fiber of his being.
Up ahead, through the inky shadows, the dark outline of an out-of-place structure took shape. A small travel trailer nestled amid the trees.
His heart pounded, flooding his system with a burst of adrenaline. Renewed with energy and hope, he swept Tessa up into his arms and carried her to the trailer.
He searched the darkness, looking for the vehicle that had towed the trailer into the forest, but there was nothing, only trees and bushes. But someone had driven this trailer here, so that meant a road couldn’t be too far away. First, however, his priority was Tessa. He had to risk stopping long enough to get her dry and warm.
He propped Tessa up against the side of the trailer.
“Can you stand on your own?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured.
He banged on the metal door. “Hello! Anybody in there?”
Nothing moved. No light came on. He jiggled the handle. Locked. He slammed a fist against the door in frustration. The glass window in the door rattled. He combed the ground for a rock to break the window with.
He found a short, heavy log and rammed it into the glass. It took several tries before the glass gave way. He reached inside the open hole and turned the lock. The door swung open. He verified the trailer was empty.
Tessa slid to the ground. He gathered her in his arms and carried her inside and sat her on the U-shaped bench seat of the dining area. The one-room space was dark and cold. He had to stoop because of the low-lying roofline. He searched the cabinets and found blankets and enough clothes for both of them. He also found a flashlight.
Taking a momentary risk, he turned on the flashlight long enough to assess their surroundings and make sure there were no immediate threats he had to deal with. A small sink and stove gave him hope there was food in the cupboards.
He turned off the light, and while his eyes readjusted to the dark, he wrapped Tessa up in a blanket. She made no noise as she pliantly allowed him to rub her arms, letting the warmth from the friction with the blanket soothe her. “Honey, I need you to stay with me.”
“Mmm. ’Kay.”
Concern arced through him. He could barely make out her face in the ambient light coming through the broken window. Her pale skin glowed with no color in her cheeks. “I need you to change your clothes.”
“What?” she squeaked, rousing a bit.
He opened a door that led to a small bathroom that would barely have enough elbow room to complete her task. “In there.” He pushed her inside and then handed her a change of clothes from the cabinet. “You can do it.”
She clutched the clothes to her chest. “Are we safe here?”
The scared and vulnerable tone to her voice made his heart contract painfully within his chest. He wished he could reassure her, but he wouldn’t lie. “We don’t have a choice. If we kept going as we are, drenched and weighted down by our soaked clothes, Aaron would find our dead, frozen bodies. At least warm and dry, we still have a chance to escape.”
She accepted his words and shuffled into the bathroom. Jeff shut the door, then quickly changed from his soggy clothes into a pair of well-worn sweats and thermal shirt.
Both were too wide and too short, but he wasn’t going to complain. He searched for sustenance and found a box of crackers, a jar of peanut butter and a can of tuna. Not exactly a gourmet feast, but it would do. They needed strength to keep going.
A drawer held a set of plastic utensils. He searched for a knife or screwdriver, anything to use as a weapon. He found a can opener, a plastic spatula, a whisk and a wooden ladle. Useless. Nor could he find any tools with sharp points or edges.
But he did find a jug of distilled water. He tested it to make sure it was really water. It was. He found two plastic cups and poured water into each.
The door of the bathroom clicked open, and Tessa stepped out swaddled in the blanket and oversize sweats and sweat jacket. White socked feet glowed bright poking out the bottom of the blanket.
She shuffled to the cushioned bench seat and plopped down. “Whew. That was exhausting.”
His chest filled with affection. Moonlight streamed through the window and touched her like a caress. Her hair was wild and untamed, her eyes wide and dark, and her smile trembled. She’d never looked lovelier to him. The longing to kiss her again gripped him in a tight vise. Forcing his attraction down, he turned
his attention to their makeshift meal. He presented his bounty to her on a plate. “This should give us some energy. But we can’t linger.”
“I’ve never been so happy to see a saltine before,” she said as she picked up the square cracker smeared with peanut butter.
“There’s no mayo for the tuna,” he said, setting the open can down with two forks.
“That’s okay. Mayo isn’t good for my figure.”
Appreciating the moment of levity, he sat down across from her but angled so that he could keep an eye out the broken trailer window.
She reached over and covered his hand with hers. Her skin was cold, but warmth quickly grew between them. “Thank you for this food.”
“God is the one we need to thank.” If they hadn’t stumbled across this trailer, they’d be as good as dead even before Sherman’s men found them.
Her expression grew pensive. “You’re right.” She lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. “Thank You, God. For everything.”
“Amen.” Jeff popped a cracker into his mouth.
They ate quickly and silently until it was all gone. Jeff refilled their water. “We should conserve the rest,” he said when he noticed the jug was half-gone.
“Agreed.” She stacked their plates. “Can we stay here all night?”
“We can only risk a few more minutes. Just because we don’t hear the dogs anymore doesn’t mean Aaron isn’t still tracking us.” He took the empty tuna can and plates to the sink. There was no running water, so he wiped them off as best he could with a paper napkin from a stack he’d found.
He stuck the empty tuna can into a plastic bag that had been beneath the sink. No sense in leaving it all out to attract the grizzly or one of the black bears that inhabited the forest. As it was, he owed the owner of the trailer a new window.
When he was finished, he positioned himself by the door, where he could keep a watch out the broken window. Tessa tucked a blanket around him before moving to the bench seat and spreading a blanket over herself. Grateful for her thoughtfulness, he tugged the edges together against the chilled air coming through the opening.
