by Low, Gennita
It was only a little after three a.m., so she wouldn’t have light for hours yet, which would make the trek that much more treacherous.
One of the local deputies had Slim-Jimmed the driver’s side door. Willow found a discarded flannel in the backseat and held it out to Guinness. The dog buried his nose in the fabric, tail wagging. “Seek, Guinness. Seek.”
She turned to Maya and encouraged the dog to smell. Maya sniffed at the shirt, but didn’t inhale the same way her dog had. Willow placed the shirt in a large Ziploc and stuffed it in the top of her pack.
Guinness was already at the end of his twenty-foot lead, pacing back and forth across the dusty, leaf-strewn ground.
“Are all your people out, Thompson?”
“Yes. As soon as we realized we were calling you in, we pulled everyone out.” He handed her a radio. “It’s on the channel you need. Let us know when we can start up the trail. There’s an access road for the Idaho Springs reservoir after you hit the creek. We’ll meet you there and wait for your go ahead to follow.”
Willow nodded, familiar with the area. She’d hiked this trail a couple times before, although it had been a while.
Certainly never in the dark.
With a final wave at the gathered rangers, she gave Guinness his head. The dog found the trailhead easily, then started fanning back and forth. So many people had already cluttered the air with their scent it would probably take him a while to find that of the missing hikers. There was also a campground not far away. She could smell the wood fires.
Willow turned on her headlamp and handed her spare back to Flynn. “These are good for conserving the batteries in your flashlight. If you have problems, let me know. With the way he’s acting, I think Guinness may have picked up a hint of something. Try to get Maya to watch.”
“Roger.”
Willow dug into the climb. Just as she was getting warmed up though, the trail headed downhill. She knew the trail had to sweep down to the creek, then back up to the first lake. Then, further up, was the second of the Chicago Lakes.
Guinness paced back and forth, steady and strong. His tail wagged constantly. Willow had never seen another dog love his job so much, and she was thankful he had chosen her at the animal shelter. He’d come to the wire door and stared at her until she’d had to take him out. It had been love at first lick, on both their parts.
They’d worked together seamlessly. She patted the right hand pocket of her cargo pants, making sure she’d brought his favorite tennis ball.
She glanced back at Flynn and Maya. The dog was sniffing along, but she didn’t have the same interest as Guinness. The dog didn’t seem to mind the activity, though. She paced along like she’d been hiking before.
They crossed the small wooden bridge that crossed the creek, then started to climb. They were given a bit of a reprieve from the climb when they hit the flat access road. Thompson and three of the other trucks had pulled up and parked, and they were gearing up to hike.
“I sent a team on to Summit Trailhead just to be sure they weren’t up there.”
Willow waved a hand in acknowledgement of Thompson’s words, then hiked on.
She glanced back at Flynn, who seemed to be walking easily. “We’ll be on this road for a little while, then the serious climbing begins.”
He gave her a thumbs-up and a grin, which made her happy. Maybe he was actually enjoying this.
Worry about the hikers kept her pace up. When they came to the trailhead leading up to the first lake, she didn’t hesitate. Guinness still ranged back and forth, but he seemed to be keeping more to the trail now. With so many different odors to wade through, she was constantly surprised when he was able to single just one out.
The trail in this section climbed, then leveled out, then climbed again. She knew they had to be getting close to the first lake, but they wouldn’t be able to see it in the meager light from the quarter moon. After another mile, she paused to take a drink from her water bottle. Legs burning, she paused long enough to offer Guinness a drink as well, but he wasn’t interested. His breath fogged the early morning air as he panted.
Flynn knelt beside her. Even he seemed to be a little winded, but the expression on his face appeared exhilarated. Willow kept her headlamp pointed at the ground. If you looked somebody full in the face, it totally ruined their night vision.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked.
“Definitely. Although I have to admit, I can’t wait for dawn. The lamps don’t pick out all the rocks.”
Willow laughed and nodded. “Isn’t that the truth… Seems like a lot of my hikes are at night, though, so I’ve learned to wear taller hikers. Better ankle support.”
She held her boot out for him to look at and he nodded.
Willow offered Maya a drink, but she wasn’t interested. Pulling the plastic bag from her pack, she gave both dogs another whiff of the shirt.
“Seek, Guinness. Seek.”
The lab took off like a shot, tugging at the lead. Willow hurried after him. He had the scent now.
Almost two miles later, Guinness plunged into the trees on the downside of the trail. Willow stopped him long enough to mark on her GPS where they veered off the trail, then followed along behind, careful of the hidden dangers Guinness seemed to be plowing through. For several hundred yards, he went over and under trees, circled boulders and dragged them through untamed brush, single-minded in his determination to find the source of the scent. In the lee of a towering pine, he stopped to sniff at an area that seemed to have been beaten down. Willow could see signs that somebody had been here recently.
She was puffing from the exertion, but excitement gave her adrenalin. She glanced at Flynn once but he seemed to be keeping up, so she continued on. They entered a dense stand of pine, and Guinness literally began to jerk on the lead. They were getting close.
“Mike,” she called out, rousing a nesting bird. “Katie!”
There was no response, but she continued to call out, then strain her ears for an answer. They continued to hike for another half hour before they finally heard a call back. The lay of the trees and boulders distorted the sound, so she continued to follow Guinness. In another hundred yards, they finally found them. She gave a whoop and threw the dog his tennis ball, so proud of him.
Mike Gearhardt lay on the ground, nestled against a boulder and Katie stood over him protectively. The woman burst into tears at the sight of the dog, then when she saw Willow she dropped to her knees. “You found us, you found us.”
Mike was rough-faced and haggard, but he forced himself to sit up.
Willow knelt down beside him. “Are you injured?”
He motioned to his right ankle. “We got off track and I climbed this boulder to try to get a lay of the land. But I landed a little off, and it snapped. We’ve been here since yesterday. Do you have any water?”
She pulled a liter out of her pack and handed it off, cautioning them to drink it slowly. Then she radioed for help, marking it on her GPS receiver. She was dismayed to see how close they actually were to the trail. The Gerhardt’s had gotten disoriented and wandered for too long, tromping circles in the bush.
Willow leaned over to look at his ankle. It had been wrapped in a spare t-shirt or something and had turned purple. Then it had swollen hugely. The foot would have to be splinted. If they tried to move him without stabilizing it, there was a chance it could be injured further. She dug in her pack and pulled out the first aid kit. It had bandages in it, and luckily, one set of splints.
Flynn knelt on the other side, ready to help.
“Katie.”
The other woman didn’t respond to Willow, just continued to weep.
“Katie!” Willow shook the other woman’s shoulder, worried that she’d gone into shock. “You need to sit with Mike. We have to splint his foot, okay?”
The bedraggled woman nodded, her eyes clearing. Mike smiled at her reassuringly. “We’re going to be okay, honey. They’ll get us out of here.”
> “We have rangers tailing us and I gave them our location. They should be here in just a few minutes.”
Mike and Katie nodded.
“Mike, I’m sorry, but I have to splint your foot and it’s going to hurt like a sonofabitch.”
She caught his nod in the darkness.
Flynn held the splints to the elevated foot while she wrapped it, and she appreciated his help. Yes, she could have done it herself, but it was nice to have backup.
The rangers arrived as she was finishing up the wrap. The bouncing lights were welcome in the darkness, but when she looked up, Flynn had gone still.
In spite of the ache in his hips, Flynn was loving life. The search had gotten his blood pumping, excitement coursing through his body. Maya seemed to be having fun on the hike, but she didn’t seem motivated like Willow’s dog. Guinness was in his element. The happy dude had plowed up the mountain, through streams, over brush, completely in the dark. He’d flushed out a couple of quail and crossed paths with an opossum, but his single-minded push to find the target didn’t let him get distracted. Finding the targets had finally released him from the drive.
Guinness hadn’t been the only one, though. Willow had impressed the fuck out of him. Following her, watching her work, had been an eye-opening experience. Flynn knew he was in good physical shape, but she had kept him puffing. Granted, they were climbing in elevation as they searched, but he’d lived in Colorado long enough that he should have adapted to the thinner air of the mountains. Willow had showed him serious gaps in his training.
The dark night enclosing them on the search had reminded him sharply of working ops with his team in Afghanistan. More than once, he’d looked down at Maya’s back and imagined it being Mace’s darker, sleeker coat. Willow’s bobbing light ahead of him could have been that of his buddy Reed, who he’d always backed doing entries into buildings.
When the injured man needed splinted, she’d jumped to it as quick as any doc on the battlefield.
At some point though, the mountainside beneath him faded away, and the lights coming toward him were those of the insurgents they’d been hunting. Smoke drifted into his eyes, making him cough. He drew back, searching for his weapon in the litter on the floor. It wasn’t there. A light shined into his eyes and he lurched to his feet, ready to bolt.
Mace whined, confused at his actions. Flynn looked down at him, fearing he’d been hurt, but something wasn’t right. Mace’s hugely expensive vest, with its mounted camera and canvas handles, had been replaced by a reflective orange vest.
But it wasn’t Mace.
“Flynn!”
He looked at the woman in front of him but didn’t recognize her. Even with her dark hair, she didn’t appear native Afghani. Her hands were held out in front of her and she was saying something.
Wiping the smoke from his tearing eyes, he focused on her pink-lipped mouth. Pink-lipped mouth.
“Willow?”
Smiling, she stepped forward, nodding her head. The dog that wasn’t Mace stood on her rear legs, with her front legs against his waist. “Hey, Maya.”
Flynn ruffled the dog’s coat and she started to lick the crap out of him. As the fogginess lifted from his brain, he realized he wasn’t in Afghanistan. Nowhere close, even.
The early morning sky was beginning to lighten, and he wondered how long he’d been out of his head. Willow stood in front of him with her hand on his shoulder, but she didn’t seem alarmed. Actually, she was grinning. “Are you back?”
He nodded, glancing around. They were the only ones in the immediate vicinity. “Where did the rangers go? And the people we found?”
She made a motion with her head. “Back to the trail. They’re going to try to carry Mike down the mountain. Let’s sit for a minute.”
Dropping the nylon pack to the ground, she sat cross-legged on the leaf-littered slope. Flynn lowered himself a little more cautiously, his hips aching. “Did I do anything?”
A sleek black brow lifted over one eye as she glanced at him. “You mean during your flashback? Nah. Nothing major. I think you were spooked by the rangers’ headlamps, but you kind of just backed away into the darkness, all military-like. At one point it looked like you lifted a rifle and you were whispering to somebody. But you didn’t strike out or anything.”
The sick knot in his stomach unraveled. Good. He’d never hurt anybody in any of his flashbacks, but he’d been taught to kill with his bare hands for many years. It was one of his greatest fears that he would break during a flashback and seriously hurt or maim someone. Rubbing a hand over his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
The thought of hurting Willow made his heart stutter.
“Here.”
She shoved a protein bar under his nose. As unappealing as it sounded right at that moment, he knew he needed it before they headed down the mountain. Ripping the package open, he took a big bite.
Maya had planted herself on his lap and he sank his hand into her coat.
“You called her Mace.”
Willow took a bite of her bar, watching him digest her words.
Shrugging, he took a bite of his own bar. It tasted like sawdust, but he forced it down. He was surprised when she ran a hand over his back.
“If you ever want to talk about him, I would love to hear.”
He nodded, unable to say a word because his throat was so tight.
As the dawn began to lighten, they finished their protein bars and washed them down with water. Willow tossed the dogs a couple of treats and played for a few minutes off leash, then they packed up to go.
When she led them to the trail and explained how the Gerhardts had wandered, he was stunned at how close they had been. It was obvious they had been lost for hours. If they had only picked this direction and walked a couple hundred yards…
Flynn realized that going down the trail was as difficult as climbing it. Willow was a well-built woman, and now that he’d seen her work he knew why. It was from ascending and descending mountains. This wasn’t a Fourteener, what the locals called a fourteen thousand foot mountain, but it had to be close.
Maya stayed right beside him on the trail. She seemed to sense that the remnants of the flashback were still bothering him. More than once she shoved her nose into his hand, making him ruffle her fur. Flynn appreciated her single-minded attention.
Within about twenty minutes, they had caught up to the ranger party. Flynn could hear Mike moaning the closer they got. He felt for the guy. The injuries weren’t life-threatening, so trying to justify a helicopter rescue was out of the question, Willow told him.
The rangers each gave him a considering look, but didn’t mention anything about his behavior.
One of the more heavily built rangers had given up his pack and gear to piggy-back Mike down the mountain. The narrowness of the trail required that they travel single-file on this section. Flynn watched the sure-footed ranger descend, in spite of his load, glad that the morning was lightening.
When the trail widened, two other rangers arranged to carry Mike between their locked hands. Still awkward, but it gave the larger ranger relief for a while.
That was how they made their way down the mountain, transferring Mike back and forth between the group to carry. Flynn offered to carry at one point, handing his leash off to Willow to hold. He clasped hands with another ranger and the big one, Chambers, lowered Mike to their support. It was more awkward to carry a man that way than he expected. Mike didn’t weigh that much to begin with, maybe a hundred and sixty pounds, but every step made him feel heavier in their arms. Almost immediately, Flynn felt the ache in his hips, but he clenched his jaw and powered through several hundred yards. The trail began to narrow and they were getting ready to transfer Mike back to Chambers when the man opposite Flynn slipped in the leaves. Suddenly Flynn was bearing all of Mike’s weight. He did his best to maintain his hold, but he was severely overbalanced, and he felt them slipping off the edge of the trail and down the slope. Rather than let Mike go dow
n first, Flynn used all of the training and strength he had in his body to twist and get himself underneath. As they hit the ground, Chambers was close enough to stabilize Mike before he hit, but he couldn’t keep all his weight from landing on him. Flynn gasped and accepted the blow, trying to breathe through the pain as they all three slid in the leaf litter. Mike cried out, throwing his arms out to try to break his fall.
It was several long seconds before they stopped moving and the dust had cleared. Flynn was still on the bottom, but Chambers was sitting right beside him, and had taken most of Mike’s weight. The poor guy was almost crying with pain from being jostled.
“We’re almost down, buddy, we’re almost down,” Chambers told him over and over again.
Katie, up on the trail was crying, but she calmed when Chambers carried Mike back up to her. Flynn shook his head at how easily Chambers clambered up the bank. The man must be part goat.
Maya licked his face in concern and he buried his hand in her ruff, appreciating the connection. Willow leaned down beside him and offered him a hand up. Flynn had a feeling he may have hurt himself on that slide, so in spite of his pride, he took her hand.
Pain ran down through his right side as he let her pull him up. She seemed to sense that he wasn’t at his best, so she was careful with her movements. When he stood vertical, he took a minute to evaluate what hurt.
The right hip, his old nemesis, throbbed. For a minute, it felt like it had been out of joint, but with a little grinding it settled in. As he turned to head up to the trail, though, the pain made him grit his teeth. Willow followed behind and he hated feeling like she was the stronger one, but this was definitely her area of expertise. All through the climb and descent, she’d powered on like a workhorse, never letting up.
It’s why her ass was so well-shaped and luscious. Snorting, he dared to glance back at her.
She had turned her head to watch the rangers escort the Gerhardts down the mountain. The foggy morning had softened her features, making her seem more ethereal than normal. When she met his gaze, she lifted a brow in question. “What?”
