by Lisa Harris
He moved to the edge of the incline where brush and undergrowth had been disturbed. There was no way to know who had won, but from the way the brush had been crushed, it looked as if at least one of them had gone down the hill.
Jonas scurried down the incline as fast as he could, making sure he didn’t lose his balance in the process. He stopped at the water’s edge and searched the river, but there was still no sign of Madison or Barrick. Thunder rumbled, echoing in the distance and making him question what he’d heard. Thunder or a gunshot? Lightning flashed again. If Barrick was smart, he’d be long gone by now.
Jonas continued forward, following the tracks where the ground had been disturbed, while keeping an eye out for any movement.
He stopped a moment later, searching the ground again for clues as to what had happened and found two sets of tracks. Barrick and Madison. They’d both been here, but where had they gone?
Jonas scanned the shoreline, then shifted his gaze to the river. The smaller set of tracks disappeared into the water. If Barrick had overpowered her and grabbed her gun, was it possible he pushed her into the water? Or had she tried to escape from him and swum across?
As determined as he was to find Barrick, his priority right now had to be Madison. As capable as she was, going up against Barrick wouldn’t be easy. Jonas had made a foolish decision in leaving her behind.
Felicia’s face ripped through his thoughts. He thought back to the moment that shot rang out. The moment he’d run to get help. And then the moment he realized he’d made the wrong decision. She might have forgiven him, but he’d never been able to shake the guilt.
It didn’t matter that hindsight was 20/20, like they said. Maybe he couldn’t change the past, but he could change this situation. He could find Madison.
He shoved away the memories, because he’d been down that road before, and it led to guilt that had never gone away. Which is why she had to be okay. He picked up his pace, moving as quietly as he could through the undergrowth while looking for signs of movement or flashes of orange. If she’d swum across, she’d be on the other side. If Barrick had pushed her into the water . . .
He followed along the river toward a shallow bridge that crossed to the other side. The only reason she would have run from him was if Barrick had somehow gotten the gun. And she could have used the water as cover. A sharp crack of thunder shook the ground as he tried to calculate where she would go. She had no map. No GPS. No way to know where she was.
Jonas continued up the river, searched the surrounding woods, not wanting to put himself, or Madison, at further risk. His responsibility had been to watch for signs of an ambush and yet somehow, he’d missed it.
A spot of color caught his eye in the distance, and he jogged down the trail, ignoring the pain in his leg, while trying at the same time not to worry about her. He slowed his pace as he neared a tree with a cloth strip hanging from one of its branches. Someone had been here recently. Madison. She’d used her bandana earlier to leave a trail of bread crumbs for the rescue team.
He ripped the cloth off the limb and wadded it up between his fingers, irritated because there was just as good a chance that this was a trap. Barrick could be here, waiting to ambush him. Just like he’d ambushed them the first time.
A flash of movement pulled his attention to the left. He lifted his gun and moved cautiously in that direction. If she’d been shot—if she was injured—there was no quick way out of this wilderness. No calling for backup, and he didn’t have many supplies in his pack.
A figure flew toward him. Jonas ducked, barely missing the brunt of the blow from the thick branch being wielded as a weapon. Recognition flickered as the figure stumbled backward.
“Stop. Madison, it’s me.”
He caught the vulnerability in her eyes as she held the log above her head. A small laceration on her cheek showed the place where Barrick had hit her with the rock. For a moment Barrick, the plane crash, and everything they’d gone through the past few hours vanished. She was okay, and that’s all that mattered.
He pulled her into his arms, surprised at his emotional reaction, and pressed her against his chest. He wasn’t normally like this. He had a job to do and he did it. It was what made him a good marshal. Emotional involvement had a tendency to make people miss things. He’d learned that the hard way.
“I never should have left you. I’m so sorry.” He took a step back but kept his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Just a few scratches.”
“You’re wet and shaking. You went into the river.”
She nodded. “But I’m fine.”
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “What happened?”
“He came at me from behind. He probably grabbed my pack, and he’s got my weapon. He tried to shoot me. I managed to get away from him, but he’s still out there. Looking for us.”
Jonas frowned. “He got what he wanted. If he’s smart, he’s running, because if I find him . . .” His jaw tensed, but then he saw the expression on her face. He couldn’t blame her for Barrick’s escape. “Take a deep breath. We’re going to find him, and we’re going to get out of here.”
“The only good thing is that he doesn’t know this area.”
“Yes, but unfortunately we don’t know this area either. And now that he’s armed, he’s going to have an advantage.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” Jonas pulled a wet wipe out of his bag and handed it to her so she could clear her face. “I’m more worried about you right now. How do you feel?”
“Besides being cold?”
He peeled off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It wasn’t heavy, but at least it would help block the wind.
“Thank you.” She hesitated, then started walking in the same direction they’d gone before. Hopefully it would lead them to a road. “But this shouldn’t have happened. He got the jump on me, has my pack and weapon. We need to find him.”
“Madison, wait.” Jonas hurried after her. “I’m pretty sure you have a mild case of hypothermia and with the temperatures continuing to drop, it’s just going to get colder—”
She spun around and faced him. “He has a weapon, Jonas. If he doesn’t come after us, he’ll find someone else. He’s desperate.”
He looked at her, then diverted his eyes to the ground. “I know. More than likely, his next move is to head out of here as quick as he can, but he’s facing this storm as well.”
“How did you find me?”
“Tracked you from where I left you. There’s a bridge not too far downriver. Made my way across, saw one of your fabric clues, and found you.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.” He shoved back any remaining misplaced emotion. “I never would have forgiven myself if anything happened to you.”
“It wouldn’t have been your fault. None of this is your fault. And I’m the one who let him get away with my weapon.”
“We can forget about any blame or lack of blame for the moment. The situation is what it is. I think our priority has to be making a shelter to wait out the storm in, then getting help once we find our way out of this forest.”
“And how do we find shelter with no idea where we are?”
Jonas ran his hand through his hair. “We’re quite a qualified team, remember? I’m pretty sure we can figure this out.”
“Advantages, I suppose, but I don’t think Barrick’s finished with us.” She looked worried.
“We’ll be extra careful, and in the meantime, I’ve got some food and water in my pack. Let’s find a place to warm up and get some rest, then once it’s daylight, we can travel downriver and find help.”
He was doing his best to sound positive, but he struggled to stuff down his worry as they began hiking. The list of possible issues played through his mind. If they could hear the thunder this loud, the lightning was within striking distance. They needed to stay away from peaks and higher terrain. Even trees with large trunks could be da
ngerous. Trees could be shattered, lightning strikes could discharge ground currents, and a fire could erupt in an instant. The bottom line was that there was no safe place to be outside in these conditions, and finding safe shelter wouldn’t be easy in the middle of hundreds of thousands of acres of wilderness.
Wanting to keep their minds off their circumstances, Jonas changed the subject, trying to speak above the sound of the wind. “I had an uncle who lived out in the middle of nowhere. Used to go hunting at least once a year and was always telling me about people he met and places he stumbled across. Abandoned buildings and centuries-old ghost towns where men and women once searched for silver and iron. He took me on a couple trips when I visited him.”
“I’m sure your mom loved that,” she said.
Jonas smirked. “He made me promise that I’d never tell her.”
“Do you know why she was so against guns?”
“Besides the fact that I probably wasn’t the most responsible teen?”
“I can see how that might have been a factor. I can only imagine the kind of trouble you got yourself into.”
“Thanks.” He laughed.
“I was just kidding.”
“You’re not that far off.”
There was a long pause in the conversation. “When I was sixteen, I found out that my grandfather—her father—died in a hunting accident. She was there when it happened. That moment changed her life.”
“Wow.” She stopped and caught his gaze. “I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine the trauma.”
“Me neither.”
Another flash of lightning struck, followed by thunder that shook the ground.
“We need to find shelter and get out of this storm,” he said, the anxiety rippling through him again.
Because at this moment, he wasn’t sure which was more dangerous—Barrick or the harsh wilderness surrounding them.
Eight
Barrick was close. She could feel it. He’d managed to outsmart her by getting her gun and backpack, and now her gut told her he wasn’t finished. Not knowing where they’d crashed, or how long it would take to find their way out, meant that going after the rest of their supplies made sense. She glanced through the thick trees, searching for where he might be hovering in the underbrush or watching them from the ridge ahead. Jonas, on the other hand, believed the man was long gone. That it would be far smarter for him to avoid another confrontation and he was probably trying to get as far away from them as possible. Maybe he was right, but at this point, there was no way to know for sure.
A small branch snapped beneath her boot as she hurried to keep up with Jonas. They both knew that leaving the plane had been a gamble. With the GPS marker inside the craft, it was only a matter of time until the authorities found the crash site. But time wasn’t something they had on their side. Their job was to find Barrick and stop him. But now they were facing another problem. From her calculations, the storm was less than a mile away. Already, the rain was falling harder, but it was the blinding flashes of lightning that worried her the most, because these storms also carried the potential for forest fires. And they were about to be stuck in the middle of the woods with no shelter.
She shuddered as a flash of lightning ripped across the sky.
“I’m telling you, he’s long gone, Madison. Or at the least, he’s found a place to wait out the storm.”
“I know I’m on edge, but we can’t assume he won’t try and ambush us again. He holds the advantage, and he knows it.”
“I agree, but not only is it going to be impossible to track him in the dark but you’re soaking wet. We’ve got to get out of this weather and get you dry, before your body temperature drops. It could easily get down into the thirties or forties tonight with this storm.”
Her hands clenched at her sides. Maybe Jonas was right. If Barrick was close by, more than likely he would have already made another attempt to ambush them and get what he wanted. And the rain and wind were both getting stronger, blocked only by the dense foliage around them that still didn’t stop the drops of cold rainwater slipping off the leaves and sliding down the back of her neck. She’d appreciated the warmth of Jonas’s jacket, but it was soaked now. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a crash of thunder.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“It’s fine. Stop worrying about me.”
“I didn’t say I was worried.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “You didn’t have to. I can hear it in your voice.”
“I just—”
“Jonas, I’m fine. I’ve faced a whole lot worse than this.”
“Hmm . . . A plane crash in the dense wilderness, an afternoon swim in one of the rivers, and an armed felon who very well might be hunting us.”
She let out a low chuckle. “Okay, point taken. Maybe I haven’t experienced anything quite this dramatic, but I have been involved in some pretty intense fugitive hunts over the past couple years.”
Which was why she knew firsthand the dangers they were facing. She shivered as a drop of water slid down her cheek. “We could try and find some drier branches to make some kind of shelter.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said. “As long as we’re out of the open as much as possible, we should be okay. Wet, but okay.”
They hiked another few minutes in silence, searching for some kind of semiprotective space where they could wait out the storm.
Something caught her eye ahead of them that didn’t fit in with the surrounding woods. “Wait a minute.”
Jonas stopped beside her. “What is it?”
“There’s something up ahead. It looks like a cabin.”
Or at least she hoped it was a cabin. She hurried ahead of him, her boots squishing in the mud with each step, but she barely noticed. In a small grove of trees was a cabin. Madison blew out a relieved breath at the thought of getting out of the rain. A minute later, the last stair creaked as she stepped onto the front porch. Jonas wasn’t far behind.
She turned to him. “How old do you think this place is?”
“I don’t know, but there are a lot of empty cabins in the Northwest.”
Inside the one-room cabin was a bed frame but no mattress. There were a couple broken chairs and some rusty cast-iron pots, but it didn’t look as if anyone had been inside the place for months.
She stopped in the middle of the wooden floor. “I don’t think these walls are going to stop a bullet if Barrick comes after us, but they should keep us dry. What about a fire?”
“The fireplace doesn’t actually look that bad, and there’s a pile of logs on the porch that are hopefully still dry.” He crouched down in front of the wall of stone. “After what you’ve been through, I want you to sit down and rest. I’ll have a fire going in a few minutes.”
He returned a minute later with a large armful of wood. “This should last us most of the night.”
“Perfect.”
Another bolt of lightning flashed. Jonas dug a box of matches out of his backpack. A second later, a crash of thunder confirmed the storm was hovering right on top of them.
“And you don’t by chance happen to have any food in there as well, do you?” she asked.
“Normally, no, but I still have some things from my flight to Seattle, because I wanted more than peanuts for lunch and never unpacked it.” He pulled out a ziplock bag and grinned. “Looks like we’re in for a fire and a gourmet dinner. I’ve got a package of beef jerky, a couple protein bars, and some trail mix—plus a couple bags of airline peanuts.”
“Sounds like I ended up with the right partner for this trip.” She pulled off the wet jacket and laid it out next to her, still shivering from the cold.
He reached into his bag, pulled out a small notebook, and added the crumpled pages as tinder. Another few minutes and he had a decent fire going. Madison leaned toward the fireplace, grateful for the warmth of the flames.
“What made you decide to move back to Seattle?” she asked.
She held her hands closer to the fire. “Did you miss it, being away?”
“To be honest, most of the time I’m so busy I don’t really think about settling down and planting roots.”
“You had to have missed something.”
“There are a few things. Like Pike Place Market,” Jonas said. “Every time I visited my mother, we’d always spend a Saturday morning there. She would look at the crafts, and I would eat. Chinese street food, French crepes, Persian kebabs. Hands down, the best is the seafood chowder.”
“I love going there as well, though I’m not a huge seafood fan.”
“And you live in Seattle?” He laid down a couple more sticks, then sat down next to her and held his hands toward the flames. “You’ve got to be kidding. When I lived in the city, one of my favorite restaurants was located just down the street from me and served the most amazing clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl. I used to go at least twice a month. In fact, one of the reasons I decided to move back to the Northwest was the seafood.”
“You moved back for a bowl of clam chowder?”
“Well, when you put it that way, yes.”
She laughed. “Seattle does have more to offer than just seafood, you know.”
“True.”
“That’s what’s so wonderful about living in the city. It doesn’t matter what I’m hungry for. Chinese, Vietnamese, pizza, or even a hot dog from a street vendor—”
“Wait a minute. You’d pass up chowder for a hot dog.”
Her eyes widened. “Have you tried one with cream cheese and onions?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’ll make you a deal. Once this case is over—and it will be soon—I’ll celebrate with you by eating one of your cream cheese hot dogs, if you let me take you out to one of my favorite little restaurants and promise to try their chowder.”