by Jeff Carson
“I told him the man we saw was dangerous,” she said. “Why the hell’s he going in the same direction he pointed us in?”
“Probably lives down in Points,” Wilson said. “You can take this all the way down to Rainbow Creek Canyon.”
“Or he’s high.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
Wilson slapped the roof again and walked away. “We’ll be back soon.”
Patterson nodded and watched in her side-view mirror until the trailer edged around a bend and out of sight. The last thing she saw was a gas grill strapped to the back.
“What are we going to do?” Ryder asked, snapping her from her thoughts.
She shrugged, watching Wilson drive away at speed. “Sit here and wait for reinforcements. Hope we catch a break.”
“I gotta take a leak.”
“Enjoy yourself.”
Ryder hopped out and walked to a bush, leaving Patterson looking through the windshield at a wispy patch of fog swirling up the side of the mountain.
Ryder returned and sat down heavily. “Man, I tell you what, it’s nice out there now. Calm. Almost warm.”
The sun shone brighter now. Steam gathered in a light blanket along the road. Patterson turned the key and rolled down the windows, letting in the scent of wet forest and the sound of birds.
She stared at the beaded water on the hood, then the side windows. Mud streaked everywhere, some of it running down with the water as it shed off the vehicle.
“Why would they cover up the gas grill with a tarp when they’re just going to carry it on the back of the camper, completely exposed to the elements?” The question came out of her mouth without thinking.
“What?”
“There was mud flipping up all over it,” she said.
“The gas grill? What are you talking about?”
She flicked her eyes to the side-view mirror. “Remember that tarp at that guy’s campground? It was covering a gas grill and some other stuff. I’m asking, why? Why go through the trouble sheltering it from the coming storm? It seems to be built to weather the elements. It was strapped to the back of the camping trailer. Like, holstered in.”
“So … you’re saying the tarp was covering something else?”
They sat in silence for a beat.
She picked up the radio and pressed the button. “Wilson, do you copy?”
There was no answer.
“Wilson, do you copy?”
Still no answer.
“Anybody. Do you copy?”
“Yeah, we copy.” Rachette’s voice came over the speaker.
“Shit.”
Ryder turned in the seat toward her. “What are you thinking?”
“What if the guy wasn’t stoned? What if he was scared?”
Ryder’s face dropped.
“What’s up?” Rachette asked.
She put the radio to his lips. “I … think we may have …” She lowered the radio and sucked in a breath.
“What? You broke up. Think we may have what?”
“Shit. I’m probably just freaking out.” She raised the radio again. “We’ll be in touch. Over.”
Rachette waited a few seconds and said, “Sure. Whatever.”
Patterson hung the radio, cranked the wheel, and turned the SUV around.
Ryder pulled his gun again, setting it on his lap. Patterson looked at it but said nothing.
The engine revved as they accelerated up the road and around the corner. Mud flipped up and slapped the underside of the vehicle.
The dirt road was vacant, so she pressed the gas harder. The mist split a few yards in front of the bumper as the SUV reached fifty miles per hour.
She pumped the brakes for the next turn. The road was rocky, but there were still large swaths of mud that could send them sliding into the drainage ditch.
“There he is,” she said, rounding the next corner.
The trailer lumbered forward in the distance, like a large, slow-moving animal. They were a cheetah, catching up fast.
She flicked on the lightbar.
The trailer’s brake lights blossomed and the truck towing it pulled over and came to a stop.
She parked in the middle of the road, a short distance from the left rear of the camper.
“What do we do?” Ryder asked. His voice sounded strained, his breathing rapid.
Patterson looked over at him. “We stay ready for anything, but we just go talk to our guy and assess the situation.”
Ryder nodded.
She eyed his heaving chest. “Hey.”
“What?”
“You take point at the right rear of the camper. I’ll go talk to him at the driver’s side.”
“Got it.”
“Deep, slow breaths from now on. Got it?”
He looked at her and nodded again, sucking a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah.”
She picked up the radio again. “Wilson, do you copy?”
The speakers remained quiet. She waited for a snarky comment from Rachette, which she would have welcomed, but none came.
“Let’s go.” She popped the handle and stepped out.
The sun beat down, and the rising mist seemed to envelope her. It was no more than sixty degrees, but it felt like walking in a sauna.
She pulled her weapon and held it in both hands.
Ryder stopped walking, taking a spot between the SUV and the rear of the trailer.
Patterson nodded her reassurance and continued onward until Ryder slid from view. She flicked her eyes between the windows of the trailer and the rear of the pickup. It looked like the man driving was alone.
Alarm bells started ringing in her head. There had been two half-eaten plates on the picnic table, so where was the second person?
She sucked in a breath. Maybe somebody was lying down in the truck cab, or was too short to be seen over the headrest. Maybe a child was sitting in the passenger seat. She dismissed that idea—the seatbelt wasn’t stretched from its pulley near the door and since the driver wore his, she had to assume the guy would have made a child wear theirs.
He was alone.
She edged nearer the truck bed.
The blue tarp was stretched over the back. Her stomach lurched at the shape poking up beneath it.
She reached over, lifted the edge of the fabric, and saw a motorcycle tire.
Chapter 31
Wolf watched as Rachette lifted the radio to his mouth. “Patty, do you copy?”
Wolf didn’t remember having approached Rachette, but he was standing right next to him. They’d all heard the strain in Patterson’s voice.
“What’s going on?” Yates came up behind them, the other men in tow.
Wolf held out his hand and Rachette handed over the radio.
“What’s happening, Patterson?” Wolf asked.
The radio remained silent.
Wolf flinched as two bangs echoed up the mountain.
“The fuck was that?” Rachette asked.
Another shot rang out.
“Patterson, come in!”
“Shots fired, officer down!” Patterson’s voice vibrated the radio. “It’s him! It’s Hood! He’s shot Officer Ryder! Wolf, do you copy? Rachette!”
“Yes! Patterson we hear you. Do you copy?”
“—Wolf! Do you hear me!”
“Shit.”
“She can’t hear you,” Rachette said.
Alexander ran to the trail and looked down at the bottom of the valley. “Down there. Those shots were right at the bottom.”
“We have to get down there,” Wolf said. “I don’t care if we have to slide down backward.”
Alexander nodded. “Not on the motorcycles.”
Alexander looked hard into Wolf’s eyes. “I’m also good with four-wheelers. I’ll go.”
“I’m going, too.”
Alexander looked down at the mud, then back at Wolf with a shake of his head. “You’re gonna have to get on back with me.”
; “I’m a hundred and ninety pounds.”
“Even better.” Alexander leaped onto the back of the nearest ATV, twisted the key, and pressed the starter.
The engine fired and he thumbed the throttle. “We’re gonna need all the weight we can get! More traction that way!”
Wolf jumped on and wrapped his arms around the man’s torso.
“Hang on!”
Wolf doubled the strength of his bear hug as Alexander took off.
The engine whined loudly, but the vehicle accelerated slowly. The rear wheels slipped down toward the edge of the trail, where a steep drop-off promised a quick and violent end to their descent. But Alexander seemed only to grow bolder, revving the engine higher and spitting mud over the edge.
The ATV straightened out, and before long the trees where again whipping past at bone-crushing speed.
The wind buffeted Wolf’s eyes. In their haste, they hadn’t put on their helmets.
He thought about Patterson, and the baby in her belly, and her husband and son waiting at home.
“Go faster!”
Alexander said nothing, but the engine howled louder in response.
The trail was relatively straight, bending to the right along the mountain’s contour. The ATV slid from side to side in the mud like a boat.
“Hang on!”
Then the world flipped around almost one hundred and eighty degrees. The revs died and for a split-second Wolf considered jumping off, wondering if they were at the start of a bad fall.
Then the engine screamed to life again and the tires spat huge swaths of mud.
They slowed almost to a stop, and then the wind was whipping through Wolf’s hair again as they accelerated in the opposite direction. Alexander had just navigated a hairpin turn as if it were nothing.
“That was close!” Alexander yelled. “Hang on!”
Wolf clenched with all his might and shut his eyes.
Under the noise of the engine, Wolf heard a heated conversation through the radio clipped to his belt, but he dared not let go of Alexander to listen in. More gunshots rang out.
The descent continued, and twice more Alexander navigated turns with hair-raising aggression. Wolf’s arms and his inner thighs ached from holding on. But they were lower, into the fog, and now below it.
And then Alexander yelled, “Lean left!”
Wolf obeyed, and the world twisted again around them. They spun a half-circle and came to a stop. They were in the middle of a dirt road.
“We made it!” Alexander said.
Wolf relaxed his grip and looked up and down the road.
“Which way?” Alexander asked.
Wolf plucked the radio from his belt. “Patterson, this is Wolf. Do you copy?”
“This is Patterson. I copy.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on County 832. I don’t know …” She sounded more panicked than before.
One direction lifted into mountains and tight canyons. The other seemed more open.
The fresh tire tracks gouged into the road told him nothing. They were too numerous, overlapping, and traveling in both directions.
“Are you surrounded by steep mountains or meadows?” he asked.
“A mountain on one side,” she said. “A meadow on the other.”
Wolf pointed away from the tight canyons. “Go!”
Alexander punched it.
They rounded the first bend. An RV was parked on the right side, though taking up most of the road. Behind it stood Wolf’s SBCSD unmarked. Patterson was crouched at the bumper, waving at them.
Between the two vehicles lay a man in a tan Brushing PD uniform.
The side door of the trailer opened. A man came out, towing a child behind him. He raised a gun and fired.
A bullet zipped past the ATV.
“Shit!”
Alexander swerved, then overcorrected.
Wolf held on hard as they flipped up on two wheels.
They slowed and got back on four, and Alexander drove to the left side of the road, putting Patterson and her vehicle in between them and the shooter.
More shots rang out and Patterson ducked as a side window shattered.
“Stop!”
As the ATV slowed, Wolf jumped off and continued in an all-out sprint to Patterson. Alexander’s footsteps were close behind.
The shots stopped, and they got to Patterson a few seconds later.
She stared at them with a resigned, cold glare. “He has a little girl.”
Wolf ducked down next to her.
Alexander crouched next to Wolf. “What happened to Ryder?”
“He shot him.”
“Is he okay?” Alexander peeked through the windows. “Ryder!”
There was no answer, but Ryder moved slightly.
“We have to get him,” Alexander said.
“Calm down,” Wolf said, putting a hand on Alexander’s arm.
Alexander looked down like Wolf’s hand was a spider.
“Relax.”
The man blinked and nodded.
“What’s happened so far?” Wolf asked.
Patterson stared at him.
“Patterson.”
“I walked up to the truck’s driver’s side. Officer Ryder took position at the rear. I went up, saw there was a motorcycle covered with a tarp in the truck bed. So I knew it was Hood. I was on the other side of the trailer. He came out of the trailer and opened fire. I didn’t see what happened. When I got to the other side, Ryder was down. I couldn’t get to him. Hood took a shot at me, and I saw the little girl so I didn’t return fire. I’ve just been here. I tried to talk to him. He keeps yelling and shooting.”
Wolf nodded. “Okay.”
He raised himself and put his hands on the back of the SUV, then shuffled to the side and poked his head out.
Zack Hood stood next to the RV. He held a girl in front of him, a handgun leveled at her head.
Hood saw him. “Don’t you dare, pig!”
Wolf ducked back. “Give me your gun.”
Patterson blinked. “What?”
“Give me your gun.”
She hesitated.
“Patterson, give it to me.”
She handed over the Glock.
Wolf shoved it down the front of his pants.
“What are you doing?”
The sound of a helicopter rose in the distance.
They turned and saw it coming full speed from the north. It reared back and slowed above them.
“Hey, down there.” A voice came over Wolf’s and Patterson’s radio. “This is MacLean. What’s happening?”
Two gunshots rang out and a spark showered off the bottom of the helicopter.
“Turn around and get out of here,” Wolf said into the radio. “We have Hood. He has a little girl and a gun. Officer down. Get the cavalry up here, but keep your distance.”
The helicopter was already over the nearest mountain and out of sight.
“Roger that,” MacLean said. “Shit.”
Wolf nodded and turned off the radio. He took off his jacket, dropped it on the ground, and hooked the radio onto his belt.
“Zack!” Wolf put his head out, ready to pull it back in at the first sign of a gun..
Hood still stood with the girl in front of him.
Wolf raised his left hand and took his gun from its paddle holster, held it barrel-down between thumb and forefinger, and dangled it out the side of the SUV. “I’m not armed!”
He took a big step out into the open.
He studied Zack Hood in the flesh for the first time. The man had a closely cropped oval scalp that shone in the late-afternoon light. His teeth were bared, almost glowing from the shadow that covered his face. His chin was down, and he looked at Wolf with menacing eyes.
“What do you want, Superman?”
“I’m going to throw my gun away.”
Hood didn’t blink.
Wolf tossed his Glock into the drainage ditch.
“Probably have
another weapon in your belt. You think I ain’t seen the movies?”
Slowly, Wolf lifted his jacket, exposing his stomach. He turned a full circle. “I’m not armed.”
“Probably one strapped to the bottom of your leg.”
Wolf lifted his pant legs, exposing his shins.
“What the hell do you want?”
Wolf looked at the girl.
She was six or seven years old, her face covered in snot and tears. Past the point of horrified, now a few stages into shock. Her eyes were calm pools of resignation, locked on Wolf’s.
Wolf felt his chest constrict. It was sudden, like the shockwave after an explosion. His vision swam for an instant.
A deep breath and a shake of the head, and the sunlit valley righted itself.
Hood tilted his head.
“Please,” Wolf said. “We don’t have to involve the little girl in this anymore.”
Hood smiled, then laughed. “Yeah, we do.” Hood flicked his eyes to the sky, then back at Wolf.
The helicopter sounded like it was hovering a valley or two over.
“What do you want?” Wolf asked.
Hood stared at him for a beat. “I don’t know. Far as I see it, this is the end, here. It’s just a matter of who comes with me, I guess.”
Wolf shook his head. “No.” He took slow steps forward.
Hood raised his weapon. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming to talk to you. I’m not armed. I’m just coming to talk.”
Hood put the barrel back to the girl’s head.
Wolf stopped.
“Thought you were coming to talk to me.”
Wolf looked down at Ryder. Eyes stared back at him. Blood seeped out of the man’s mouth, and a hole had opened up on his shoulder, covering his torso in blood, but his eyes were calm and alert. He’d fallen onto the muddy road so that his back faced Hood. He clutched his service piece in his right hand.
Wolf lifted his eyes to Hood again. “Please. Can I approach you and talk for a few minutes?”
“What good is that going to do?”
“We’re going to bargain, okay? We’re going to strike a deal. You give me the girl, and I’ll get you a ride out.”
“A ride out? You think I’m stupid?”
Wolf turned his chin to the air. “We have a chopper right over there. We can give you a ride out of here.”
Hood pulled the girl closer to him.
“And you can take me,” Wolf said. “You need someone as a hostage. I get that. You can take me, and you can leave the girl.”
