Broken Boys

by L. J. Sellers

  Damn. Why didn’t he just give her the information? Rox read through the message again, more worried than ever about Josh and more determined to find him. If she could locate the base camp, she could convince a staff member to take her out to Josh, or maybe just hike out on her own and bring him back in. Surely they didn’t walk more than ten or twenty miles away from the camp. She hadn’t ruled out help from the police department yet, but she wasn’t counting on them either.

  Rox heard Marty’s knock and called out “Clear!” Frustrated, she hit reply and keyed in: Please call me with specific directions to the base camp. The boy I’m trying to find might be suicidal!

  She sent the email and turned to Marty, who’d walked up behind her. “The camp in Oregon is near Sun Ridge, and I’m messaging with a kid who’s been there.”

  “About time we caught a break. That’s south of Bend, about a five-and-a-half-hour drive—if we only stop once.” Marty tried to see over her shoulder. “What else did he say? There’s a lot of wilderness out there.”

  Rox moved out of her chair. “Read the whole thing. I’m hoping Hunter will call with real directions.”

  While Marty sat down to get the details, Rox went to the kitchen for more coffee. She put a couple of waffles in the toaster too. A few minutes later, her stepdad came in and poured himself a cup. “I think we should get on the road. You can check your email on the way, right?”

  “If I can find some wi-fi hot spots. But I’ll have service in Bend, at least.” Rox pulled out butter and syrup. “I hope Hunter will call me.”

  “Don’t count on it. He’s only seventeen and might be scared to trust you.” Marty pulled out plates. “You got any bacon?”

  She shook her head. “Someone in the town of Sun Ridge knows where the base camp is. If Hunter doesn’t follow up, we just have to find that local person and bribe them if necessary.”

  “Don’t count on that.” Marty sat down at the table. “Ridgeline probably hires a lot of locals and buys most of its supplies from Sun Ridge retailers. They won’t do anything to shut down the flow of money.”

  So that was how those programs survived. “Hopefully, we’ll have directions before we get there.” She popped out the waffles and looked in the fridge for some protein to go with them.

  “Let’s hit the road as soon as we finish breakfast,” Marty urged.

  “I did most of my packing last night, but I want to go through a checklist with you.” Rox put their waffles on the table with some leftover rotisserie chicken.

  Marty rolled his eyes. “I always feed you bacon.”

  “That’s why you have heart disease.”

  “No, it’s not. The damage is from stress.” He twisted his mouth into a smirk. “You know, from dealing with you.”

  Rox laughed. “Seriously, old man, are you packed for hiking? And camping? We might be out overnight.” She dreaded the thought. Hiking was lovely, or at least the scenery was. But huddling around a fire and peeing in the bushes was outside her comfort zone. Still, she would do whatever was necessary. Her worry about Josh intensified with every new program detail.

  “Uh, no. I didn’t think about sleeping in the woods.” Marty took a big bite and talked with his mouth full. “But I can be ready for that in ten minutes.”

  It had taken almost an hour to get the truck loaded with food, tents, and tarps—and another hour to drive south to the Santiam Pass turnoff—but the trip over the mountain went quickly. A blue sky, lush green hillsides, and occasional glimpses of rivers and lakes kept them both calm. She’d let Marty drive so she could check for messages. Her phone had stayed silent, and when she tried to call the Sun Ridge Police again, her call hadn’t connected. Most of the drive was wilderness, so she wasn’t surprised by the lack of cell service. Rox tried not to worry. On the other side of the Cascades, the landscape morphed into a sparse pine forest, with little growing between the trees, except some scrubby sage. Along the road, the dirt turned red, except for patches of black volcanic rock. The farther east they traveled, the dryer and more desert-like the scenery became. She realized why they hosted a wilderness camp out here: it didn’t rain.

  When they reached Bend—a big skiing town at the base of Mt. Bachelor—they stopped at a mini-mart for gas. After stretching her legs, Rox booted up her laptop while Marty ran into the store for coffee. She plugged her phone into the computer, searched for an unlocked wi-fi connection, then checked her email. Hunter had responded!

  She opened the message: Take Briggs to the top. When it splits, go right for about 3 miles. Turn on the logging road after the crazy curve. The base camp is somewhere out there. In a flat spot near a creek. You can text me if you get lost but don’t call. And I may not be much help. My escape was a year ago.

  Marty climbed into the truck. “You hear from the kid?”

  “With directions. I think we can find the base camp now. It’s right off a road, so we shouldn’t have to hike.” She worried about Marty’s heart. If a long climb to reach Josh was necessary, she’d leave the old man at the base whether he liked it or not.

  “Too bad. I was looking forward to stretching my legs.” Marty started the engine and pulled back onto the road.

  An hour later, they reached the town of Sun Ridge, population: 22,652. The downtown buildings were all single-level and ancient, with only one bank that looked new. Marty stopped at a small city park a block off the main road. Rox pulled sandwiches from the cooler in the jumpseat and passed one to Marty. “Should I try calling the local police again? We know where we’re going now.”

  “Skip it. We might just be making trouble for ourselves.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Us cops tend to overreact and want to take control of situations.”

  “I know. And I called last night, so I’m on record as notifying them.”

  “Good enough.” He bit into his PBJ. “Thanks for making my favorite.”

  “They pack well and don’t need refrigeration, so it’s all I brought.” Rox winked, even though it was true.

  Marty finished his meal quickly and started the truck. “Let’s do this.”

  Rox was still eating, but she grabbed her phone and got online. A Google map of the area showed Briggs Road as south and east. First they had to find Troutdale at the end of town. Rox gave the directions out loud, then finished her sandwich. Worry about what they would find at the base camp, combined with her sense of urgency, made her stomach uneasy. So much about this case felt off-center. She’d never rescued someone who wouldn’t have a family member waiting with open arms. Plus, the timing of Carrie’s brutal death was unnerving. What if Curtis Fletcher had killed her? Did he have a reason to want Carrie’s son dead too? Rox shook it off. She had to stay focused on finding Josh.

  At the town’s last stoplight, Marty made the turn onto Troutdale Road. “What’s our strategy?”

  “Find the camp and bring Josh out.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “No recon, no disguises, no cover story?”

  “We don’t need a cover story. The truth is reason enough to let him go.” Rox tried to be optimistic. “This could turn out to be our easiest extraction yet.”

  Marty grunted. “I just spent five hours driving, so it better be.”

  “I think we still have another twenty miles or so.” She thought about poor Hunter hiking all that way to escape the program.

  The road sloped gently uphill, passing a massive red-rock outcropping in the distance. Was that ridge the basis for the town’s name? And the program’s? After a few more miles, scrubby pines dotted the rolling landscape and the climb got steeper. When they finally made the turn on Briggs Road, a high-mountain wilderness surrounded them.

  Marty cut into her thoughts. “What if Josh doesn’t want to leave? I mean, when he hears what’s going on with his parents?”

  Rox let out a harsh scoff. “I don’t think it will be a problem. In fact, we might have other teenagers begging us to take them too.”

  “Are we going to look for Tommy, the missing boy?”
Marty’s tone was wary.

  Rox nodded. “Yes, but only if it doesn’t complicate getting Josh out.” She remembered Hunter’s warning about not finding Josh because of the long overnight hikes away from the base camp. “If Josh isn’t at the base, I’ll hike out to where he is. You can stay at the camp with the truck and make sure nothing weird goes down.”

  Marty snapped his head in her direction. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t trust this business or its employees.”

  “I hear that.”

  They were quiet as they traveled up the steep, winding road. Tall pine trees, jagged red rocks, and scrubby sage lined the sides. Rox was glad she’d brought hiking boots.

  After seven miles of twists and S-curves, the road finally leveled out, indicating they’d reached the summit. Rox checked Hunter’s email for directions. “After the split, turn right. After three miles, we watch for a curve and a logging road.”

  “It’s the middle of damn nowhere!" Marty whistled. “We’ll need gas again soon.”

  Twenty minutes later, they found the turnoff Hunter had described. Dirt and gravel, with deep chuckholes, the last few miles of road would be slow and bumpy. That’s why they’d driven the truck. “We’re watching for the base camp now.”

  “What are you expecting? A cabin? Or just some big tents and canopies?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  After bumping along for fifteen minutes, the road abruptly ended at the base of a rocky cliff.

  “Well, hell!” Marty looked over at her. “Did we miss something?”

  “We must have.” Or Hunter had given them bad directions. “The camp might not be right next to the road. Let’s look more deeply on the way back. Maybe there’s a trail.”

  Five minutes later, Rox spotted a worn dirt path that led to an opening behind a cluster of pine trees. “Stop!”

  Her stepdad shut down the vehicle and they climbed out. Rox glanced over at Marty, noting that he wasn’t wearing his Glock. She almost asked him to grab the weapon—more worried about bears than armed counselors—but decided against it. Teenagers could be nearby. She moved quickly down the dirt path and into the opening, scanning the area. Empty, brushed flat spots where tents had stood surrounded a charred fire pit in the middle.

  “Shit! They’re gone.” Rox kicked the ground.

  Marty stepped sideways, bent down, and touched a dark spot in the dirt. “Someone left a trail of blood.”

  Chapter 22

  Rox knelt down next to her stepdad and stared at the wet area. “Are you sure?” She hadn’t seen much blood in her law enforcement career.

  “Yes. It looks fresh.”

  “Damn. What if Josh is hurt? Or any of the kids?” Her head felt tight, as though it was being squeezed.

  “It’s not a lot of blood. And shit happens when you’re in the woods. A staff member could have cut himself whittling.” Marty stood. “That fire is still smoldering. The base camp was here this morning.”

  Rox clenched her fists. “Someone must have told them we were headed here.” She rubbed her temples, striving to mitigate the headache coming on. “Why else would they leave right fricking now? After being in this spot since last summer?”

  “Who would know?” Marty’s forehead puckered like a Shar Pei.

  “I left a message with the Sun Ridge police last night. I didn’t specifically mention coming here, but I asked for their help in locating a Ridgeline camper.”

  “I hate to think that an officer tipped them off, but I’ve lost faith in many of my brothers in blue.” Marty rubbed his stubby hair. “Did you tell anyone else? Maybe Isaac Lovejoy?”

  “I have no way to talk to him in jail. And why would he sabotage us?”

  “The kid who gave us directions?” Marty made a skeptical face, not believing his own suggestion.

  “Not likely.” Rox glanced around. “Let’s check the area. Maybe they left trash or something that will give us a clue.”

  Marty grunted and began to search. Rox headed across the campsite, not seeing anything but a pile of coffee grounds dumped near the fire pit. Past the edge of the clearing, she spotted dozens of small, mounded dirt clumps, scattered across the pine needles of the forest floor. What the hell? After a moment, she realized what they were. Miniature latrines. If the base camp had been here for a year, why hadn’t they dug a bigger pit, farther away? And what did they do with their garbage? Haul it out or bury it?

  She stepped carefully among the pine needles, searching for bigger mounds, indicating a trash pile. Digging through garbage was an old-school but effective way to gain information. Disgusting, but it paid off sometimes.

  “What are you looking for?” Marty called out behind her.

  “Buried trash, a dropped notepad, or a hiking map.” Rox kept moving, her eyes scanning both directions. A creek rippled in the distance. “At least they had a water source.”

  “I think we’re wasting time,” her stepdad shouted. “Let’s backtrack and try one of the other dirt roads.”

  As they neared the small stream, Rox noticed a long, raised lump in the carpet of brownish-red needles. She moved toward it, mentally measuring the disrupted area. About five and a half feet long. When she reached the mound, she stopped, and a cold shiver ran up her spine.

  “What the hell?” Marty moved up beside her.

  Rox knelt down. “I hope it’s a trash pile.” She had left her work gloves in the truck so she used her bare hands to brush off the mound of needles and sage branches. A red piece of cloth appeared under the layers of brown debris. “No!” Her pulse accelerated and she brushed faster.

  The red cloth covered an arm.

  Marty dropped down and started clearing the other end of the mound. A moment later, a young girl’s body emerged.

  “Oh no!” Marty sounded as distressed as she felt.

  Rox stared at the girl. She looked fourteen and deathly pale under a pink sunburn. “Goddamnit. This is so wrong.”

  Marty grabbed her arm. “Try calling the local police again.”

  “I don’t have service here.”

  “I’m taking pictures.” Marty pulled his phone from his pants pocket. “We have to carry her out of here.”

  “Okay.” Typically, moving a dead body wasn’t a good option, but the poor kid had been abandoned once already. They couldn’t leave her to wild animals while they rounded up authorities—who might not give a shit. “What the hell do you suppose happened to her?”

  “I don’t know, but she doesn’t look beaten.” Marty moved in for a close-up of the girl’s face. “Or broken. I don’t think she fell.”

  “Maybe she had a seizure.” The thought came to mind because her treatments could trigger seizures, so she’d researched them.

  Her stepdad gasped, a sound that startled her.

  “What?”

  “She’s not dead.” Marty jumped to his feet. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

  The staff had just left her? Stunned, Rox helped Marty carry the girl to the truck and load her into the cab. Heart still pounding, she grabbed a blanket from their camping supplies and covered the unconscious camper, then nodded at Marty. “Drive. I’ll keep her breathing.”

  “The bastards! I’ve never witnessed anything like this.” Marty’s voice shook with rage. Rox had never seen him so upset.

  On the long trip into town, she rubbed the girl's face and thumped her chest when her breath became faint. Rox wished she knew the teenager’s name, but she talked to her anyway, pleading with the girl to hang in there. Her long-ago training for emergency scenarios kept her emotions in check. She just had to stay calm and keep the girl alive. Rox took a moment to pull out her phone and attempt a 911 call, but she couldn’t connect.

  Where would the call go anyway? To the Sun Ridge Police, which probably employed only a few people—none of whom she trusted. The tiny town probably didn’t have a hospital either, and if they had a clinic, it was likely closed on Saturday. Where did local folk
s go when they had medical emergencies? The hospital in Bend!

  Rox turned to Marty. “Just keep driving to Bend. Even if they have urgent care here, the docs are going to transport her anyway. This will be faster.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up. Rox suspected he was still too upset to speak.

  The St. Charles ER moved quickly into action, getting the girl onto a gurney and cutting the clothes off her body as they wheeled her into the trauma center. “Check for stings or bites!” one of the doctors shouted. Rox wanted to follow and ask questions but knew they would brush her off. Her explanation—that they had found the girl while looking for another teenager—had already earned raised eyebrows.

  When Rox mentioned the wilderness camp to the charge nurse, the woman’s lips tightened. “I hate those programs.”

  Marty bounced on his feet beside her. They were both anxious to get out of the hospital before cops arrived and slowed them down. “We need to go back and look for the base again,” Rox said. “Here’s my number if anyone wants to talk to me.” She gave her work phone, just as she’d given her investigative name. She hoped the girl would soon be able to tell her own story, leaving them mostly out of the situation.

  The nurse jotted the number on a notepad, then looked up again. “No idea who she is?” Frustration in her voice.

  “Call Ridgeline Wilderness Health and ask them who they left for dead.” Rox tasted the bitterness of her words.

  “Thanks for saving her.” The nurse turned to give instructions to another caregiver.

  “Let’s go.” Marty grabbed her arm and they hurried out.

  At the truck, Rox asked, “Want me to drive for a while?”