Hope Sparks

by Harley Tate

  Larkin frowned. “What are you talking about?” He craned his neck to the side, trying to see around Colt. “What the hell is that, a bear?”

  “You left her here all by herself.”

  “She told me to. I gave her my flashlight and a gun. What’s wrong? Where’s Dani?”

  Colt shuddered as anger flowed through his veins. “The bear attacked her. I found her almost crushed to death beneath it. She’s unconscious.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Larkin shook his head in disbelief. “The bears around here don’t attack people.”

  Colt thrust his hand in the bear’s direction. “This one did. She’s barely alive. There’s blood everywhere. You did this. It’s your fault.”

  Larkin opened his mouth and it hung there, gaping. After a moment, he sagged down to the ground to come eye-to-eye with Colt. “I’m sorry, Colt. I thought… Dani asked me to go. She was worried about you. I would never have left her if I knew… She said she had Lottie and a gun and begged me to go.” He trailed off, his words choppy and choked with emotion.

  “What the hell is going on?” Walter emerged from the darkness. He stopped at the sight. “Colt?”

  Colt kept the gun pointed at Larkin. “He was supposed to stay.”

  Walter took a step forward. “Lower the gun.”

  “She’s going to die and I wasn’t here to stop it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Walter clicked on a flashlight and panned the beam across the dead bear and Dani’s limp form. She looked like a body on a mortician’s slab, cold and lifeless. The flashlight clicked off. “Is she breathing?”

  “Her heart’s beating.”

  “Then we can’t waste any more time. She needs medical attention and fast.”

  Colt snorted. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  “The cabin is ten miles. If we hurry we can get there by morning.”

  “We can’t move her. Who knows what’s broken.”

  Larkin spoke up. “One of us could leave now. If we jog, we could make it in a couple hours.” He glanced up at Walter. “You said there’s a Jeep, right?”

  Walter nodded. “Larkin’s right. We can get the Jeep and get back here faster than we can carry her.”

  “If you show me how to get there, I can go.”

  “No.” Colt shook his head at Larkin. “You’re not leaving my sight.”

  Walter knelt beside his pack and unzipped the top. “I’ll go. It’ll be faster that way.” He fished out his canteen, a ration of jerky, and an extra magazine for the rifle slung across his back. “If I’m not back in three hours, start walking.”

  He eased closer to Colt and clicked on the flashlight once more. With a stick, Walter drew a map, pointing out all the landmarks between their current location and the cabin. “The cabin is due south, about ten miles. Skirt the gulley for the first two or three miles before it veers off to the east. Then it’s a straight shot. The terrain slopes the whole way. We’re on a grade.”

  Colt hoped like hell he wouldn’t need to carry Dani the entire way. He scowled at Larkin again before lowering the gun. They would fight about it later. Right now, he needed to tend to Dani’s obvious wounds.

  Walter stood and clicked off the light. “I’ll hurry.”

  “Thank you.” Colt waited until he could no longer hear Walter’s footsteps to turn his attention to Dani.

  “I’ll look around on the ground for the flashlight I left with her.” Larkin stood as he spoke. “You’ll need it to clean her up.”

  Colt ground his teeth together. The last thing he wanted was to accept help from the man responsible, but he had no choice. Dani had been through so much in her short fifteen years. She didn’t deserve to die ten miles from a place she might be able to call home. He refused to think about Lottie and what must have befallen her.

  A light clicked on ten feet away and Larkin hustled up with the flashlight. “She must have lost it in the struggle.”

  Colt took it without a word. Starting with her feet, he used the light to inspect Dani’s body. Her twisted ankle was swollen, but otherwise fine. By the time she regained enough strength to walk, it should be healed.

  The rest of her was another story. Blood covered her shirt and jeans, so thick in places, it dried into blobby pools. Colt cursed under his breath. How was she still alive? There had to be enough blood for three people.

  Larkin whistled from the other side of the bear and Colt jerked his head up. “What is it?”

  “Shine the light over here, will you?”

  Colt frowned, but obliged, panning the flashlight beam across the bear carcass.

  “There’s enough bullet holes in this bear to stop an army. Dani must have fired every round into its chest.”

  Colt leaned over her body to get a closer look. Larkin was right; bloody holes pocked the entire front of the oversized beast. Colt brought the light back to Dani’s body. Maybe all the blood wasn’t her own.

  Maybe most of it belonged to the bear she took down all on her own. He reached with tentative fingers for the hem of her shirt and lifted it up enough to see underneath. No oozing wounds. No gaping slash marks.

  Colt exhaled in relief. She might be okay. He glanced up at Larkin. “Get some water and a rag, will you? We need to clean her up.”

  As Larkin made his way to the packs, Colt closed his eyes. In a few hours, they would be inside a cabin with heat and light and medical equipment. Even if Dani broke a few ribs or an arm, they could treat her. Colt had faith that she would survive. He couldn’t count on anything else.

  Day Forty-Five

  Chapter Eighteen

  TRACY

  Northern California Forest

  12:00 a.m.

  Hampton stumbled and Tracy hauled him up by the rope lashing his wrists together. “Next time, I won’t pick you up. Your face can lead the way instead of your feet.”

  The man muttered under his breath and Tracy tugged him extra hard. “Which way now?”

  “If you stopped jerking me around for more than a minute, maybe I could tell you.”

  With an exhale full of impatience, Tracy stopped and turned to face her prisoner. “Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who ambushed us? You’re the one who wanted to take what doesn’t belong to you.”

  He scowled. “All of you have more than enough. Why can’t you share?”

  “We worked for everything we have. People died for some of our supplies. And you want us to what, hand them over?”

  “It’s not our fault we didn’t have anything.”

  Tracy raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t?”

  Hampton shook his head. “You try living off a janitor’s pay and see how far it gets you.”

  She stared at his clothes and his hollow cheeks. “Drugs can’t help.”

  He wiped his nose on his shoulder. “They pass the time.”

  “Books pass the time. Drugs just ruin your life.” She shuddered as childhood memories rose to the surface. Her mother had been a user. Look how that turned out.

  “Never been much of a reader.”

  I was a librarian.

  Hampton brought his tied hands up to his face and chewed on a thumbnail. If Eileen was keeping her little group together with some pills as favors, then Hampton was crashing hard. Thirteen hours was a long time to go without a hit.

  If she wanted him to lead her to the camp, they needed to get on with it. “Enough chitchat. Let’s get going.” She tugged on the rope and pulled his hands away from his face.

  He motioned with his head. “It’s that way.”

  They walked on in silence with nothing but the moon as their guide. When the trees closed in and the forest darkened too much to see, Tracy navigated to a thinner patch while maintaining the same general direction. It had been hours since Brianna radioed and still they hadn’t come across the camp.

  She glanced back at Hampton. Was he pointing her in the right direction? Did he even kno
w what way to go?

  They could be lost out in the woods, veering so far off course it would take days to make it back. Tracy slowed. “Any landmarks I should be looking for?”

  Hampton scratched at the scabs forming on his chin. “There’s a creek past the camp with a real big drop off on either side. Steph almost fell in it on the way.”

  “What about on this side?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Nothin’.”

  Great. Tracy exhaled and kept walking, keeping the moon in her sights as a general guide. After another half hour, they came upon an outcropping of rock and she stopped to assess.

  Even walking at the two miles an hour they were managing, the camp should be near. Heck, she should be on top of it. Either they were slower than she anticipated, or Hampton directed her off the mark.

  She turned to him. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It all looks the same in the dark.”

  Tracy cursed. She should kill him and eliminate the dead weight. Instead, she leaned against the boulder and closed her eyes. What a fool she’d been, thinking she could come out here without a plan and rescue Brianna. If her luck kept up, Brianna would need to rescue her.

  “Mrs. Sloane? Is that you?”

  Now I’m hallucinating. Wonderful. Tracy opened her eyes. Brianna Clifton stood no more than two feet in front of her, gun drawn and ready.

  “Brianna?”

  The girl shushed her and stepped closer. Her voice barely carried to Tracy’s ear. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find you. Those people are dangerous.”

  “I know.” Brianna glanced at Hampton with a wary eye. “I got Madison and we escaped, but they’re looking for us.”

  Tracy swallowed. “Madison’s alive?”

  Brianna nodded. “The camp is about a mile ahead. We made it this far before we had to take cover.”

  Looking past the twenty-year-old, Tracy scoured the dark for her daughter. She wasn’t there. Her heart leapt in her chest. “Where’s Madison?”

  Brianna hesitated. The moonlight glanced off her teeth as she nibbled on her lip. “She’s nearby, but hurt. I can’t move her on my own.”

  Both women focused on Hampton. Now he wasn’t just a loose cannon, but a liability. They couldn’t handle him and an injured Madison. But they couldn’t cut him loose, either.

  Tracy would have to kill him. She reached for the rifle on her shoulder, but paused halfway. A gunshot would be too loud.

  Hampton began to fidget, bouncing back and forth on his feet as if he knew what was coming. “You can just let me go. I won’t tell.”

  “He can’t be trusted.”

  Tracy nodded. “I know.” She didn’t want to kill a man with her bare hands. How would she even do it? Bash his head in? Choke him? It was one thing to pull a trigger or fight for her life in the heat of the moment. But to kill a man in cold blood without making a sound? It wasn’t in her.

  Brianna motioned to the nearest tree. “We can tie him up. Gag him.”

  “It’s a risk.”

  “Hey! Don’t I get a say here?” Hampton yanked on the rope. It slid along Tracy’s palm. Damn it. Now she didn’t have a choice. She wrapped the excess around her hand and pulled hard.

  Hampton stumbled toward her. Before he could shout and alert anyone to his presence, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked. The soft fabric tore and Tracy bunched up the strip.

  Backpedaling away from her, Hampton put up his tied hands in defense. He opened his mouth to scream and Tracy shoved the wad of cotton inside. He tried to shout or spit it out, but Tracy held his mouth shut with her hand.

  “Cut some of the rope and tie it around his mouth.”

  Brianna pulled a knife from her boot and did as Tracy instructed. Looping the rope around the rag stuffed in Hampton’s mouth, Brianna tied it behind his head.

  He tried to scream, but the sound came out muffled and weak. It could have been an animal in the woods or a bird in the air. Nothing to raise suspicions.

  Tracy dragged him over to the nearest tree and tied the remaining rope around the trunk. She patted him on the shoulder. “Be thankful I’m not putting a bullet between your eyes.”

  He cursed at her with wide eyes and a shake of his head.

  “When you get out of this, stop using and get clean. Then go find a library and get yourself some books. You can learn all sorts of things. Like how to survive.”

  She stepped away and Brianna grabbed her by the arm. “Madison is this way. We should hurry.”

  Tracy followed Brianna to a spot just on the other side of the rock she’d leaned up against to rest. At the base of the boulder, Brianna brushed away leaves and fallen branches to reveal Tracy’s daughter.

  Oh, honey. Tracy fell to her knees and reached for Madison. A clump of matted hair turned rusted brown from blood covered the side of her face. “Is she hurt badly?”

  “I don’t know. She has a bad cut on her head and I think a concussion. She collapsed while we were running and hasn’t come to since.”

  Tracy nodded. They needed to get her to safety as soon as possible. Then they could decide what to do about Eileen and the rest of her tribe.

  With gentle hands, Tracy lifted her daughter. Brianna slipped one shoulder under Madison’s left side and Tracy took the right. Together they began the slow, agonizing trek back to the Clifton compound.

  As soon as Madison stabilized, Tracy would gather the necessary weapons and come up with a plan. These people who wanted what they didn’t earn would not destroy the Cliftons’ property. They wouldn’t be the end of the hope that bloomed inside her daughter’s chest.

  Madison would wake up to safety and sunshine and a future as bright as any sunny day. They would not have to start again somewhere new.

  This time, Tracy wouldn’t sit back and let the fight come to her. She would confront it head-on. No prisoners. No leniency. She would defend her daughter until her last breath.

  Chapter Nineteen

  WALTER

  Northern California Forest

  12:30 a.m.

  Damn forest. Walter had spent his fair share of time land nav’ing in forests up and down the eastern seaboard, but he thought he’d left that all behind twenty years ago. Now here he was, forty-five years old, double-timing it through trees and ferns and blackberry bushes.

  This wasn’t the way he’d hoped to spend his retirement. Not that he could call struggling to survive in lawless anarchy retirement, but he wouldn’t exactly be taking to the skies for a commercial airline any time soon.

  By his estimates, he was nearing the halfway point. Too damn slow. One look at Dani’s pale cheeks and limp fingers and Walter knew they were on borrowed time. The girl might already be dead.

  Adjusting his rifle, he loped into a thinner stand of trees. The moon shone bright and full above him and he stopped for a drink of water. As the pounding of his heart slowed and he stopped slurping, the sounds of harsh words caught his ear.

  “—be so stupid.”

  “I swear, she had to have help.”

  “Nonsense. How could they find us up here? It’s the middle of the damn night.”

  “I was watching her the whole time. Someone else hit me!”

  “Harder than this?”

  The smack of skin on skin echoed through the forest and Walter dropped to a crouch. He didn’t recognize the voices. Not Anne nor Tracy nor any of the kids. These were strangers. He crept forward on silent feet, rolling his steps to minimize the sound.

  Were they the same people who tore up the camp a few miles back? Walter thought about the sleeping bag covered in blood and empty beer cans. If they were involved, then he needed to be wary.

  “Eileen, please. I’m telling the truth.” The younger voice turned pleading. A woman, not much older than Madison by the sound of her.

  Walter eased behind a tree as the faint glow of a dying fire came into view. Damn. Not what he’d hoped for. In
front of him sat a makeshift little camp.

  From his vantage point, he counted five structures: two tents, a tarp slung over a rope, and two other pale manmade forms that must have been improvised sleeping quarters. Sheets strung on a line? Blankets? It didn’t matter.

  These were not the markings of seasoned backpackers. City dwellers had infiltrated the forest. Two women stood in the middle, their silhouettes backlit by the remains of the fire.

  The young one making excuses whined again. “She was tied up real good. I checked.”

  Another slap. The older woman wielding the open palm struck with ferocious intensity. “Don’t you tell me about those ties. I tightened them myself.”

  “Yes, Eileen.”

  From the tenor of Eileen’s voice, she had to be in her sixties or older, yet she commanded the younger woman with the power of someone half her age. Wiry and strong, she must have been in charge. Walter sidestepped in a crouch, working his way around the periphery of the camp to get a better view.

  The older woman’s hair picked up the light of the dying fire and almost glowed. Stark white and long, it hung in a braid down her back. She sported jeans and boots and a jacket that appeared to be wind and waterproof. Not an idiot.

  She poked a finger at the younger woman’s chest. “Now you wake up Sam and the others and report back here in five minutes. We’re not waiting until the morning.”

  The younger woman shrank back at Eileen’s instructions. “What about Hampton? You said we would wait.”

  “Damn it, Stephanie. How stupid are you? If that girl is gone, she’s gonna tell those women all about us. Do you think they’ll let Hampton stay there once they find out he’s with a whole crew?”

  “But we need him to tell us about the cabins. If he’s been inside, he can tell us where to strike.”

  Walter froze. They couldn’t be talking about the Clifton compound, could they? He took stock of the camp again. Vagabonds, the lot of them. No way they could mount an attack against Barry, Anne, Tracy and the kids.