by Paty Jager
“There are one and a half of us. You’re injured. White has two weapons which means we could have two people shooting at us.” Hawke shrugged out of his pack and sat at the base of the tree, holding the binoculars to his eyes.
“They’re just coming out of the trees along the creek.”
The sound of a jet boat drew his attention and the binoculars to the river. A patrol boat was throttling down and drawing up to the dock.
“Shit!” Hawke muttered. He yanked the radio out of his pack and dialed in the frequency for the river patrol. “This is Hawke, jet boat at the Kirby Lodge dock, move off before they see you and rabbit.”
The boat idled back away from the dock and drifted downstream with the current.
He refocused on the area where he’d last seen White and the woman. Nothing moved.
“Did they get to the buildings while I was on the radio?” he asked Sheridan.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“Damn! I have to make a visual to know what to tell the patrol.” Hawke stared through the binoculars, checking out the area he could see in front of and between buildings. He didn’t see anyone.
“Maybe they saw the boat before it moved off,” Sheridan said.
“If they did, then they headed back up in the hills.” He scanned the hillside on the opposite side of Kirby Creek. There were bushes and trees but enough space between he should see the two.
He spotted what must have been the group Mathews was leading at the top of the hill he and Sheridan had descended.
“What’s that?” Sheridan asked.
“Our backup. I have a feeling White and the woman are either hiding in the trees until dark or headed back up the creek, having seen us, the boat, or the group coming down the hill.”
He was tired, thirsty, and hungry. He’d thought they’d catch White here and he’d be back home tomorrow. It didn’t look like that was going to happen. White had the instincts of a wild animal, knowing when he was in danger.
«»«»«»
Hawke and Sheridan sat on chairs on the deck of the lodge waiting for Mathews and his party to arrive. He’d made a search of the outbuildings and was certain White and the woman weren’t hiding in any of them.
“You here for a holiday?” Mathews asked, his gaze landing on Sheridan. “What happened to you?”
Hawke sat back in the chair watching Sheridan and wondering what the man would say.
“I had an altercation with a rock.”
From the frown creasing Mathews’ brow, Hawke had a feeling the deputy had worked with Sheridan before. “How’d that happen?”
Hawke was glad that Mathews didn’t seem to like the tracker either. Maybe he could get Sheridan shipped out of here.
When the unwanted man didn’t answer, Mathews shifted his attention to Hawke. “Where’s White?”
“He either saw the patrol boat before I contacted them to move out of sight, or he saw us or you coming down the hill. I spotted them about a hundred yards from the lodge, coming out of the trees, heard the boat, focused on getting it out of sight, and then I lost sight of White.” He nodded to Sheridan. “Keep him here. I’ll go see if I can figure out if they’re still in the trees waiting to come out at dark or if they took off.”
“You’re going alone?” Mathews asked.
“No.” Hawke whistled. “Dog’s going with me.”
He stood, shouldered his pack, and strode down the steps and along the side of the building. Not having Sheridan dogging his footsteps was a relief.
“Come on, let’s see if we can do a better job on our own,” he said to Dog as they entered the trees where he’d last seen White.
«»«»«»
It was almost dark when Hawke and Dog spun around at the same time. Someone or something followed them. The hair down Dog’s back stood up and his lips curled. Hawke wrapped his fingers around Dog’s muzzle and whispered in his ear, “Quiet.”
He crouched beside Dog in the shadow of a tree and reached under his shirt, resting his hand on the handle of his Glock.
A slight snap now and then was the only sound that gave him an idea of the direction the person or animal was coming from. The sound of stumbling feet and a muffled groan revealed it was a person.
He didn’t think it was White. The man moved through the woods like a cougar. He hoped it wasn’t Sheridan. If he got away from Mathews and was stumbling around, he could get himself caught again, or worse, killed.
A shadow moved among the trees. From the body shape it appeared to be Sheridan. How the hell had he followed them?
Hawke tightened his grip on the Glock as the shadow moved closer.
He released his hold as the man came into view. It was the boastful tracker.
“What are you doing out here?” Hawke said in a loud whisper.
“Hawke? Did I find you?” Sheridan asked.
“Yes, and you probably brought White with you.” Hawke stood, wishing he had let Dog attack the man. He was getting tired of dragging him around everywhere. “Why did you come out here?”
“I didn’t want you chasing White alone. He’s a ruthless killer.”
He noticed Sheridan wasn’t wearing his backpack. “Where’s your pack?”
“I had to leave it behind to get away from Mathews.”
“I’m going to put all your reckless behavior in my report. You’re an idiot to follow me and come unprepared. I’ve a notion to tie you to a tree and tell Mathews where to find you.”
“You wouldn’t do that. White could find me before Mathews.” Sheridan didn’t have any fear in his voice.
The chance of being found by White was something Hawke feared. Why didn’t Sheridan fear the man? Why did he keep getting involved in the apprehension of White?
“Which way is he going?” Sheridan asked.
“I think back up the creek. But it’s too dark to follow the trail without using a flashlight and I don’t want him to know I’m looking for him.” Hawke dropped his pack to the ground. “I’m sleeping.” He rolled out his sleeping bag and lay down with Dog beside him. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what Sheridan did as long as he didn’t bring trouble.
Chapter Six
The call of a chukar woke Hawke. He opened his eyes and studied the man sleeping with his back against a tree and his arms wrapped around him as if he were cold. Served the dumbass right, heading out without gear. Hawke was beginning to believe that Sheridan’s boasts were just that. So far, he hadn’t proven that he was the tracker he’d bragged about. All chatter and no substance.
Hawke sat up, stretched, and dug in his pack for granola bars. He tossed one at Sheridan. It landed in the man’s lap. He jumped, making squawking noises.
“Not funny,” Sheridan said, picking up the bar.
“You can give it back and go without anything to eat.” Hawke stood, ripped the wrapper off his meal, and started eating. When that was gone, he drank some water, rolled up his sleeping bag, and picked up his pack. “Let’s go. I can’t report anything until I know how close I am.”
“You wait too long and Mathews will come looking for you.”
“Then he’ll have a good trail to follow with the way you were breaking a path through the brush last night.” Hawke found the tracks he’d been following before dark and strode along, hoping to find where White and the woman camped during the night. It might give him an idea of how far behind they were.
After an hour of following their path along the creek, the tracks made a veer to the right and out of the creek bed. There it appeared as if they had eaten and waited for it to get light enough to climb the rock cliff. Up a good two hundred yards, there was a gap in the rocks that looked like a cave entrance.
Hawke backed Sheridan into the trees and pulled out the radio.
“This is Hawke. Mathews, you have the radio on?”
“I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“I believe they are in a cave about two hundred yards up a cliff, three miles up Kirby Creek. Then south of the
creek. Sheridan is with me.”
“I wondered where the dumbass went.”
Sheridan made a noise in his throat.
“We’ll sit tight until you get here.” Hawke sat down next to his pack and put the radio away. “Take a nap, we aren’t moving unless I see White come out of that cave headed somewhere else.”
“How do you even know he’s up there without looking?” Sheridan eased his body to a sitting position.
“The tracks say he is.”
“What if he didn’t go to the cave but went to the right or left halfway up? He could be at the top and taking off who knows where while we’re just sitting down here.”
Hawke shook his head. “Air support knows where we are. If he pops out up on top, they’ll have a visual.”
“You know for being an Indian, you sure do seem more like a coward.”
Hawke stared at the man who had messed up this assignment every chance he had. “My heritage gives me the patience to not walk into trouble. If being smart is being a coward, I will consider the title with honor.” He pulled out his water bottle and drank. Even though he did believe his words, it was hard to swallow the water and his anger at the man watching him. It was as if Sheridan wanted him to go into a rage. But he’d learned while in the military, using his fists hurt him more than the person he beat up. Because afterwards, he had his conscience to live with.
After fifteen minutes of silence, Sheridan had to say something. “I still think I can out track you.”
Hawke didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Tracking wasn’t a competition. It was a means to find someone or something.
“By not saying anything are you agreeing with me?” The smug expression on the man’s face really needed to be wiped off with a fist.
Hawke tilted his head and studied Sheridan. “Why do you want to get White so bad? Or should I say keep me from getting close enough to bring him in?”
Sheridan’s eyes flicked wider before he stared down at his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There was no sane reason for you to sneak away from me and go to the shack. You had a motive. Whether it was to warn him or to try and kill him, I don’t know, but I will find out.”
Sheridan jerked his head up and glared at Hawke. “Whatever you’re thinking is something you made up, and you’ll never be able to prove anything.”
Ahhh. Hawke studied the man. He’d just given himself away. Hawke now knew for certain there was something between Sheridan and White.
“Are you a relation to White? A cousin?” Hawke didn’t take his gaze from the man. People talked in more ways than words. Their actions and reactions could tell as much as a sentence.
The other man didn’t glance his way or say anything.
“That’s it. You are related and either you despise him for what he’s done, or you idolize him.” Hawke continued to watch, hoping to catch a movement that would help him figure out the man’s connection.
Dog growled low in his throat and peered into the trees to the right of them.
“You may get your chance to meet up with White again,” Hawke whispered. “You can either hide in the trees with me or stay here in the open.”
He didn’t wait for the man’s reply. From the way the hair stood up along Dog’s backbone whoever, or whatever it was, couldn’t be more than twenty feet away.
Hawke grabbed his pack. He and Dog retreated deeper into the trees, crouching behind a currant bush. He had a good visual on the area where Sheridan remained. That the man wasn’t hiding and letting who or what was coming see him, only convinced Hawke more that Sheridan was a cohort of the man they were following.
Dog growled.
“No,” Hawke whispered and put an arm around the animal’s body, keeping the dog at his side.
A brown snout and then a big furry head appeared.
Sheridan shot to his feet and took off running the opposite direction Hawke had hid.
The brown bear’s fur jiggled and swayed as the animal walked over to the tree where Sheridan had sat. The bear was in good health by the shine of his cinnamon colored coat. It smelled the ground at the base of the tree and the trunk. The animal tipped his nose in the air and shook his whole body. A low mumble rumbled from its partially opened mouth as if the bear were arguing with himself on whether to go after the human. The beautiful animal shook his head again and continued toward the mountain cliff.
Hawke wondered if the creature was headed to the cave. If so, it would be interesting to see if White and the woman came running out with the bear after them. Or White could shoot the bear. The sound of a shotgun would tell them if the couple had holed up in the cave.
Figuring Sheridan was following him to help White, it was probably a good idea to find the tracker and keep him away from the fugitive. Hawke rose, whistled low to Dog, who was smelling the bear’s tracks, and headed the direction Sheridan had bolted. If he was lucky, he’d find the man hiding a short distance away.
The tracks Hawke followed were headed to the cliff and the cave. Damn! He’d hoped to keep Sheridan away from White.
He had to make the decision of going after Sheridan or waiting for Mathews and his bunch. Knowing there were three people possibly holed up in the cave and none of them would appreciate his presence, he decided to sit at the bottom and wait for backup.
Dog had caught the scent of something that made him stop, glance all around, and then heel.
“What’s ahead? Did you get the bear’s scent again?” Hawke lowered his pack to the ground. They were on a rock ledge that one lone fir tree had the tenacity to cling to. Where its roots went for dirt and water, Hawke wasn’t sure, but it provided them with cover as he kept surveillance of the cave.
He pulled out the radio and twisted the knob. Static crackled. “This is Hawke. Mathews, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. We’re about a mile away. Know anything more?”
“Sheridan took off up the cliff toward the cave. I’m beginning to think he’s a fan of White’s.”
“Damn! We don’t need one of our own helping White.” Mathews tone, revealed he didn’t think much of traitors.
“I agree, but it seems that way. Either that or he’s being stupid to try and be a hero.” Hawke squinted up at the cave. “They also might have a visitor. A big old boar bear came by me headed toward the cliff. I caught sight of him on a trail up to the cave.”
Mathews chuckled. “That should be entertaining. Hope we get there in time to see the show.”
“Copy.”
Hawke set the radio down and pulled out a granola bar and dog biscuit. They snacked and waited.
Dog perked his ears and stared up the cliff.
Hawke caught sight of his backup as a boom echoed through the cliffs. He peered up at the cave entrance. A man and woman hurried out, headed around the north side of the cliff on what appeared to be a narrow rock ledge.
“Shit!” They would have to go up and see if the two shot the bear or Sheridan.
“What was that?” Mathews asked as he and the six others scrambled up the cliff to the lone tree.
“White and the woman came out of the cave after the shot and traversed a ledge around the cliff.” Hawke shouldered his pack. “You all don’t have to come, but I’d prefer not to go up there alone in case the bear is still alive.”
Mathews and another deputy drank some water and followed him on the trail the bear used to get to the cave. Claw marks striped the rocks from many trips, indents in grass the size of a dinner plate, and scat revealed this to be a bear path.
“What happens if the bear is only injured?” the other man asked.
“We’ll have to finish it off.” Hawke wouldn’t let an animal suffer. A bear had great strength and the ability to survive the harshest weather. He deserved a quick release from pain.
As they approached the cave, Hawke held onto Dog’s collar. He didn’t want his friend trying to protect him from a bear. The dog wouldn’t be a match for
the massive animal.
With his free hand, Hawke grabbed his flashlight and shone the beam into the dark interior. The beam travelled from one side of the cave to the other and up and down. No eyes glittered in the shaft of light.
“Dog, stay!” he commanded, released the collar, and stepped into the cave. There wasn’t any sign of a bear. Maybe when the bear stuck its head in, they shot, scaring it off. He walked a few more steps and saw a body.
“There’s a person down!” he called.
Mathews was beside him. He shone his light on the body and the third man reached out to turn it.
Hawke already knew who it had to be. It wasn’t wearing Sheridan’s clothes.
They put both beams of light on the man’s face.
“I’ll be damned. It’s White,” Mathews said.
“That means either Sheridan or the woman killed him.” Hawke sighed. If only the bear had taken the fugitive’s life, then he could be headed home. Now he’d have to find Sheridan and the woman so they could stand trial for murder.
Chapter Seven
Mathews stepped out of the cave to call a helicopter and forensics. Hawke followed him, picking up his backpack.
“Where are you going?” Mathews asked.
“After Sheridan and the woman.” He had a vendetta with the chattering tracker.
“I can’t follow. I have to stay here until the scene is cleared.”
Hawke nodded. “We’ll be fine. I’ll stay in contact.” He whistled to Dog and headed to the rock ledge he’d watched the two use to leave the cave.
The ledge was nothing more than a mountain goat trail. Dog, being the size of a half-grown mountain goat, managed to gingerly walk ahead of him.
Hawke pointed his feet in opposite directions to fit on the uneven, five-inch-wide outcropping. His face was inches from the rocky cliff. Two times he’d thought about letting his pack go to keep it from pulling him backwards. Each time his fingers dug into the rock crevices, he hoped he didn’t put a hand on a rattlesnake.
After what seemed like hours, the ledge went between two rock pillars and the top of the cliff was an easy walk along the edge of a small patch of snow that hadn’t melted. Dog stopped and ate snow as Hawke dropped his pack. His limbs shook as he drank from his water bottle. He scanned the ground for traces of the two he followed. A blob of mud on a rock had to have come from a shoe.
