Tom Reed Thriller Series

by Rick Mofina

  “Kobee! Here boy!”

  Suddenly, Paige’s feet slipped. She hit the ground, sliding on pine needles, knocking against trees, brush slicing into her hands. Her body rattling, bumping down, down, down, stopping in a shaded glade of soft moss. Paige held her breath. The distant tinkling of Kobee’s leash. That way. Confident, she brushed dirt from her jeans, heading deeper into the forest.

  “Kobee!”

  Paige came to a small river. Now what? Wait! Kobee’s leash jingling? Faintly? Yes, she heard it. From the other side of the river. Butterflies. Kobee would chase them. Wait. To get back, just go through the forest up the slope. She blinked. OK. She pushed on, finding a natural bridge of fallen trees, using it to carefully cross over the rushing water to the other side.

  “Kobee!”

  No sign of him. She was getting mad, worried. Which way?

  Why did her parents take this stupid trip? Why didn’t they just stay at home in San Francisco? Why come here? How was a ten-year-old kid supposed to figure out what was wrecking her family, or understand the terrible thing that made her mother so sad that sometimes she would not talk to anybody, just go off by herself for hours?

  Was her mother a little crazy?

  She heard the leash again, from deep inside the next dark forest.

  “Kobee! Get back here, you stupid dog!” Paige considered returning to their camp to get her dad. No way. He was way too angry.

  She decided to go a short distance into this next forest.

  “This is it Kobee! Do you hear me? You are in huge trouble!”

  She came to another little river. The fourth one? Not a trace of Kobee. Paige rested on a rock staring at the snow-topped mountains. It was getting late. Tired. Hungry. She should start back soon. Kobee would know the way back. Paige had stupidly counted on returning with him. Stupid. Sniffing, she searched her backpack. Some stuff in there. Nothing good though. She found an Oreo cookie and tapped it on her walking stick. This always worked. Why didn’t she think of this sooner?

  “Kobee...I’ve got a cookie for you….” Tap-tap-tap.

  Nothing. Paige kept tapping. For nearly half an hour. Still nothing but a high country wind fingering its way through the mountains, carrying the echo of a crow’s caw. Soon, Paige ate the cookie. Gazed skyward. Only a few days ago, she was peering down from her window seat of the jet, marveling at the Rockies rising up to her from the earth below. About nine million snowcapped peaks stretching to the horizon, like the top of a big cream pie. It was pretty, but scary too. No cities, no buildings, no roads. Nothing down there but mountains, rivers, lakes and never-ending forests.

  If you ever got lost down there, how could they ever find you?

  Paige did not have a clue about the woods. She had never been camping before. She was from San Francisco. Her world was malls, clothes, music, cell phones, soccer and e-mail. She could click her way around the Net, no problem. But the woods? It’s like going back in time or something, she had thought from the plane, watching one range blend into another.

  Now she was down here. Fear gnawing at her.

  She did not know the way back.

  How did this happen?

  It hit her like an avalanche.

  She was lost.

  On the brink of tears. Unaware she had been gone for hours, had wandered from the new Grizzly Tooth Trail, in the Devil’s Grasp, one of the most remote regions in the nation. Parts of it curled into Canada.

  Anxious, Paige began hiking in different directions, hoping, praying to spot something familiar. Other hikers? Maybe her mom decided to come this way. Maybe her dad lit the campfire and she could see it. It was getting colder by the minute. Her cuts, her bug bites, her scrapes began hurting. Her legs ached. Her feet were sore. She was exhausted. Afraid.

  She stood at the edge of a ridge, overlooking a forest so vast it seemed to encompass the entire planet.

  “Dad!--Dad!--Dad!--Dad!--Dad!--Dad!”

  Her voice echoed in vain.

  “Mom!--Mom!--Mom!--Mom!--Mom!--Mom!”

  Paige collapsed to the ground, gripping her walking stick.

  Why was this happening to her? The sun sank lower. These mountains got so dark and cold at night. She did not know how to build a fire. Far off, she heard the rumble of thunder.

  “Mommy!”

  This was the place where Mommy said her monster dwelled!

  Shut up, Paige!

  The sun dropped behind the mountains, turning part of the horizon a heavenly pink, orange and blue.

  A twig snapped crisply in the darkened woods behind her.

  She stood. Held her breath.

  Nothing.

  A bird, maybe? A chipmunk?

  Then another twig; no, a branch broke. Something larger out there. Rustling. Closer. Something approaching her. Something coming from the darkness. Something bigger than Paige.

  “Mommy?”

  Nothing.

  Her heart pounding faster.

  “D-Dad? Is that you?”

  Silence.

  ONE

  An eagle flew so near to Emily Baker she heard the swishing of its wings from the cliffside where she had sought sanctuary after her blowout with Doug. Maybe this trip was a mistake. Was returning to Montana the only way to end her torment? She searched the peaks for answers.

  Her monster was out there.

  Emily had to confront it. Had to tell Doug and Paige everything. Everything. She was so sorry for the arguments. For all she had put them through. And what she was going to put them through. She would never blame them for not understanding. Emily was bracing herself, after so many painful years, to reveal the terrible secret to her family.

  I am responsible for the death of a child.

  “Guess what I’m going to do.”

  The monster.

  That’s what Emily and her counselor had agreed to call Emily’s issue, because they knew it was the key that got Emily talking, to the point that she was able to set foot in Montana for the first time since her childhood.

  Your monster dwells back at the ranch, kid. Come on, Em, we talked about this. You must go back for that cliché called closure. You’ve let the monster call the shots in your life for too long. If you fail to do this, the monster wins. Everything. Are you willing to let it win everything?

  No.

  Emily had returned to battle her past.

  To endure one more death.

  Her monster had exacted such a toll--on her, on Doug, on Paige. It was gaining momentum. Emily had to stop it. The arguing, erecting walls, fracturing trusts, withdrawing from the people who needed her: it had to end. As horrible as it was going to be, it had to be done. This was the right place. The right time. Her counselor was right. A few more days was all Emily needed.

  Then the whole world would know.

  The sun slipped closer to the western horizon. Mountain shadows pulled over the valleys like a blanket. Hours had passed since her argument with Doug. Emily hoped he had cooled off.

  Returning along the twisting trail, Emily felt a pang of worry. Something’s wrong. She stopped. Nothing looked awry. But something felt wrong. Emily shrugged, continuing to the camp.

  Her heart warmed when she saw a calmer version of her husband reading near their blue tent. The ex-marine sergeant who taught English Lit to high school students when not coaching the football team. Doug Baker was a looker. An inch over six feet with a muscular frame beneath the faded Levis and blue U.S. Marines T-shirt, which set off his tan, gray-flecked hair and gray eyes.

  “Where’s Paige?” she asked.

  “She went to join you.” He was still cool to her.

  “Very funny.”

  Doug immediately analyzed the circumstances, concern washing over him. Tossing his book, he rushed down the trail.

  “Doug!” Emily’s heart raced. “You’re scaring me! Doug!”

  “Stay at the camp, Em!” he yelled, then began calling for Paige, his deep voice booming as he disappeared. Emily’s stomach tightened. She t
ore back the flaps of the tents.

  “Paige?”

  She circled the camp, calling her, calling Kobee.

  Doug returned. Breathless. Doubled over. Gasping. Emily noticed his left hand was wrapped in cloth, as if he had hurt himself.

  “Doug where is she? What happened? I left her with you!”

  “I sent her to you. She went with Kobee, not more than ten minutes after you left! I thought all this time she was with you!”

  “No,” Emily fought her tears. “I never heard her! I never saw her!”

  “You never saw her?”

  “No.”

  “What about Kobee?”

  “No.” Her eyes were drawn to Doug’s injury. “What happened to your hand?”

  “I hurt it chopping wood.”

  “Hurt it how? Doug, what happened?”

  “I was chopping wood. I was distracted, hurt my hand. I sent her to be with you!”

  Emily stared at him.

  “Doug you were supposed to watch her! My God! It’s been hours! Why weren’t you watching her?”

  “Me? Well, where the hell were you? Huh? You go off for hours! What the hell are you doing out there all alone?”

  Emily began sobbing.

  Doug shook off his rage. They had no time to waste.

  “Emily!” He grabbed her shoulders. “Emily! Listen to me!”

  “Doug, she was so upset yesterday, remember--”

  “Stop this, Emily!”

  “And those people, yesterday, seeing us argue. Standing there watching us. That family, they said they saw a bear--”

  “Stop this and listen to me! That thread of trail you were on is no more than a few hundred yards. It crests a ridge, right?”

  “What I--I, OK--”

  “You and I will each take a side of that ridge and descend in a zigzag pattern, calling at one-minute intervals out to her and each other, making sure we can hear each other! We’ve got some time before dark. You got that?”

  Emily did not move.

  “Emily!”

  She flinched. “Y-yes. I’ve got it!”

  “Let’s go!”

  They scoured the ridge; the sky had darkened faster than Doug had ever seen night fall in his life. Why had he behaved so brutally to Paige? Scaring her off when she needed him? What was wrong with him? Maybe she fell asleep somewhere. Maybe she fell. Or worse.

  “Paige! Kobee!” His voice boomed, followed by the echo of Emily’s calling, deepening his anxiety.

  Doug pushed on, worrying about his daughter, his wife, grappling over their reason for coming to Montana. To deal with Emily’s--what? Tortured past? Were they right to come? What the hell was happening to them? He probed a small hillside cave with a branch.

  Nothing.

  Doug knew little of his wife’s childhood in Montana. She grew up just outside of Buckhorn Creek, a small mountain town. Her mother and father died when she was young. That was about all he knew, really. In the time he had known her, Emily would not talk about it.

  Her only relative was her aunt Willa, who still called her “Lee,” which was Emily’s childhood nickname. Willa knew Emily’s past but was just as reluctant to discuss it. Several months ago at a San Francisco art gallery’s showing of Emily’s photography, Doug had pulled Willa aside and pressed her unsuccessfully.

  “Doug, she has to tell you when she’s ready. It has to be Lee’s decision.” Willa bit her lip. “I just pray that it is soon. Very soon.”

  Emily was seeing a psychologist, but was guarded on her counseling until a few weeks ago, telling Doug the resolution for her was in Montana. She had to go back but was afraid to go alone. OK, he said, they would go to the mountains together. The three of them. They would meet head-on with whatever it was that was pulling her away from him, from Paige, from herself.

  Then last night, after all these years, Emily seemed ready to open up to him. Paige was asleep in her little tent. They sat by the fire for some time, the flames painting her face as constellations wheeled by. Emily began talking about her life here, then retreated into silence, frustrating him.

  It ignited another argument that erupted this morning.

  And now this.

  “Paige! Kobee!”

  Doug hacked fiercely at some brush until suddenly he was overcome with futility. He reached a clearing, looked down the giant slopes through a treetop window and his knees nearly buckled. At that moment, the size of the area was no longer breathtaking. It was horrifying.

  God help us.

  “Paige!” Doug’s voice carried for miles. Forever. My little girl.

  He ran his hands over his face. Exhausted. Emily’s calling began to stutter. Doug knew she was sobbing at the fact they were searching in vain. Night had come without a trace of Paige or Kobee.

  Maybe they found their way back. That shred of hope was enough for Doug to get Emily back safely to their campsite.

  The temperature had dropped. The dark sky was starless. Doug built up the fire, flames reflecting the anguish of their glistening eyes.

  “She’ll be cold,” Emily sniffed.

  Doug nodded.

  He was numb with fear, trying to remember the last tender words he had said to Paige, the last time he hugged her. He refused to accept that his last words to his daughter were spat at her in anger.

  “We’ve got to get help, Em. At first light, I’ll double time it back to the shuttle bus drop. We’ll alert the rangers.”

  “But it took us two days to hike to this spot.”

  “We have no choice. You stay here in case she returns. Do not look anymore. Stay here!”

  Emily sniffed and nodded. “And hungry. She’ll be hungry, Doug.”

  “She’s a smart girl. She’ll build a shelter or something.”

  “She’s from the city. She has never set foot in the woods in her life. Not until I dragged everyone here! Why is this happening? She was so heartbroken yesterday at our arguing. She said she would run off of a mountain because of me. Doug it’s me, it’s…Damn it Doug. Why weren’t you watching her? I don’t understand how you could let her walk off. Why?”

  “Stop it! This does not help! We cannot sit here blaming ourselves. This does not help Paige. Do you hear me? Don’t give up on her!”

  Emily nodded, stifling her sobbing.

  “Doug, exactly how did you hurt your hand?”

  “I told you, chopping wood,” he said, almost ready to confess. “I--I was distracted and sent Paige to be with you.”

  Emily said nothing. Minutes passed.

  “You were gone a long time, Emily. What were you doing out there?”

  Emily sniffed, whispering, “Dealing with my past.”

  Thunder rolled in the distant darkness. An hour later, the fire began hissing as the raindrops fell. Doug and Emily moved to their tent.

  The rain intensified. Doug hoped with every fiber that Paige had built a shelter. He knew the rain would reduce chances of picking up her trail.

  Neither he nor Emily slept more than five minutes.

  They stared at the flames, struggling to survive the rain.

  But the fire died.

  “Guess what I’m going to do.”

  Emily’s monster had returned.

  TWO

  Fear seized Paige.

  She stood absolutely still in the dusk, afraid to move, to swallow, to blink. Her heartbeat was deafening.

  She heard the noise again. Very near. Coming from the dark stand of trees.

  Huffing, then clicking.

  She saw nothing. A branch snapped loudly under the weight of something colossal.

  Gooseflesh rose on her arms.

  Something is out there in the darkness. Something large is watching me.

  Trembling, Paige moved slowly away. Every instinct screaming at her.

  Run!

  More branches breaking.

  It’s moving closer!

  Run! Run! Run!

  Groaning, panting, running, scrambling. Her adrenaline surged pro
pelling her up a cliffside, then another, down a scree. Not feeling the rocks scraping and tearing at her hands and arms, she crossed a stream, slipping, driving hard, not stopping, scaling another small cliffside, racing. Her knees banged and slipped until she collapsed beneath an overhang with a concave rock roof, not much larger than the rear window dash of a midsize car.

  Her gasping was deafening. Ears ringing.

  Oh, please! Stop this! Please!

  Several minutes later her breathing decreased.

  Safe. Please let me be safe.

  From her shelter, she watched night fall over the mountains, listening to the loudest thunder she had ever heard blasting over the Rockies from one corner of the world to another. Lightning flashing in the angry sky, then a downpour.

  In the dark, she extracted a T-shirt and sweatshirt from her pack, putting them both on. It helped. One may have been inside out. She did not care. She felt around for food; she knew she had stuff in there. Her fingers fishing, finding an apple, then a nearly-full bottle of water.

  Be smart. Take a small sip.

  She lay in the darkness, shivering in rain-cooled air, flinching with every thunderclap.

  Does it hurt to die?

  Paige began to cry.

  She cried until she fell asleep, only to be awakened several times out of fear that the huffing sound had returned.

  THREE

  In the frigid pre-dawn light, Doug studied his wounded hand.

  It was wrapped in a strip he’d torn from the T-shirt that fell from Paige’s pack when she fled, a favorite from the Gap. It was pink, now browned with his dried blood. The flag of his guilt.

  Shame would not allow him to admit to Emily what he had done. Chased Paige away, cursing, bleeding. An ax in his hand.

  I am so sorry.

  The rain had stopped. Patches of cool dawn mist quilted the forest slopes. Crows echoed in the valleys. Doug got busy restarting the fire, using wood he had placed in the tent. To warm Paige in case she returned.

  While the kindling smoked and crackled to life, Doug gently nudged Emily, who awoke weeping softly. It was time for him to get help.