SEAL Heroes

by Katie Knight

  Mark eased off the throttle and raised up his right hand so Carl would slow behind him. They’d have to take it by foot from here. If someone had, by some miracle, survived the crash, they’d have to be stealthy. He’d been a soldier and knew all the tricks of the trade. He would still be in the army if his lying son-of-a-bitch of a commander hadn’t reported him for lack of anger management amongst his peer and superiors. Abhorrent. It was the country’s loss, and when he discovered the commander had been killed in an overseas explosion, he’d celebrated with a cold beer for breakfast.

  Mark killed the engine and swung his right leg off the machine. “We need to hike up,” he ground out, taking two flashlights from their pack and handing one off to his son. Given the time of year, dusk had fallen early with the shorter days, so they’d have to tread carefully in the blanket of darkness.

  “Agreed,” his son’s merciless whisper swam with blood lust. “And if the boy’s not dead?”

  “Then I’ll strangle him with my bare hands, and you can watch the life drain from his eyes.”

  “I’d enjoy that very much.” Carl tucked the flashlight underneath his arm and fished a new pack of smokes from his front pocket, slapped the box against the heel of his hand a few times to pack it, and unwrapped the clear plastic.

  His son put a cigarette between his lips, offered him one—which Mark accepted—and lit it before his own. Mark inhaled a sharp breath, padding his lungs with the harsh bite of cheap tobacco. He craved nicotine more than his next breath, it was his constant companion, along with his son. Together, they trudged through the snow in the direction of the crash, stopping only to bury their cigarette butts in the snow. No one would ever find them in the dead of winter, and by spring no one would be searching for evidence anymore. It was another half mile hike before they saw the wreckage, but his mouth pooled with saliva at the crumpled, smoldering metal. No way had anyone survived the impact. He walked ahead of his son, frown deepening at the ajar emergency exit door. The hinges groaned as he flung the entrance open wider, and he held his breath as he stomped into the cabin. Carl slammed the door shut behind him, and they stood hip to hip, staring in disbelief at their surroundings.

  “What the fu—” Carl started to say, but was cut off by Mark’s hate-induced roar of anger. The plane rattled with it.

  “That little bitch nanny must have survived and taken him into the forest.” He stalked to the cockpit, his whole body humming with rage, and kicked the door in. The pilot was dead, his neck twisted at a ninety-degree angle, the flight attendant was cold and stiff beside him. They deserved to die too. It had been fate. He took a step back and bumped into his son.

  “Out of my way,” he screamed, spit flying from his lips. Carl lifted both hands and retreated. “Spread out. Search the area surrounding the plane. Fifteen minutes, then meet me back here.”

  Mark went in the opposite direction of his son, stamping across the hard ground, chest heaving with effort and anguish. His sternum tightened with each step as he stalked over to the nearest tree, shed his protective gloves along with the heavy flashlight that dropped into the snow, and pounded his fists into the trunk, sending shards of bark flying through the air. He welcomed the sting as wood sliced into his flesh, and then the warmth of the blood that trickled over his knuckles. He wiped the back of his hands on his jacket. It wouldn’t do to leave a trail of blood at the scene of the crime. With each passing minute that ticked by with no trace of the boy or his nanny, his anger expanded, hot as molten lava bubbling up inside his chest. He stumbled, dizzy with blinding, white-hot hate. The boy must die! There could be no justice for Billy, for his broken family, if the doctor who killed him still had a son of his own.

  If it had been Logan Hamilton on the operating table instead of Billy Slocum, no expense would’ve been spared to save him. Mark had done his research. Logan’s parents lived a lavish lifestyle thanks to generations of wealth combined with their lucrative careers in medicine. A rotten taste filled his mouth, nearly choking him. It was bad enough they’d taken his baby, but they went on living in their mansion, traveling on luxury vacations, enjoying all the finest things in life. Doctor Hamilton hadn’t lost any sleep over his son’s death. Billy had just been an underprivileged kid born to a poor family. Something easily disposed of—out of sight, out of mind.

  “Dad, there’s no trace of them.” Carl rounded the plane and stopped next to him.

  “I know.” His growl rippled through the air. How had they survived? Which way had they gone?

  “What’ll we do now?” Carl whined, and Mark wanted to belt him for it.

  The air stirred, ruffling the tree branches. All was silent except for the wind hissing over the godforsaken terrain.

  “We hunt.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ben took one last look at Megan and Logan sleeping soundly and slipped out of their shelter. Stars still flickered against the indigo sky, if it were spring, he’d be able to make out the faint pink glow of dawn between the black trees that shadowed the horizon, but as it was, it was hours before sunrise. He’d remained vigilant throughout the night, keeping watch for threats and tending the fire in case the wind shifted. It had been past midnight when a low rumble cutting through the forest prickled his ears, and he’d looked out to see twin sets of headlights bobbing deep in the woods. Spotting two snowmobiles in the dead of night made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. It was unlikely for tourists to be visiting the park during the winter months, let alone be riding through the forest after dark given that this area was notorious for wildlife like grizzly bears and wolves. His gut was telling him something was wrong, so he’d follow the instinct.

  Using the glow of stars to guide him, he circled back to the crash site. The mile hike wasn’t wasted when he discovered two sets of snowmobile tracks leading up to the plane, followed by two broad sets of footprints. The pattern of the prints told him someone had entered the plane, then scoped out the surrounding area by foot. They couldn’t possibly be rescue workers, and no one else had any reason to come out here…except for the bomber. Someone had purposely found the crash site to confirm their kill, and now they’d know that Logan and Megan had survived—or at least made it far enough away from the plane to hide out.

  Moving briskly, Ben circled back to their campsite. His mind should be solely focused on the people pursuing them, but all he could think of was having his hands against Megan’s soft and subtle curves last night, or the way they’d laughed together like old times. He’d been foolish to kiss those supple lips of hers because now the softness of them was branded into his mind all over again—not that he’d ever really forgotten. He shuffled closer to Megan and Logan’s sleeping forms, not wanting to track snow close to them.

  “Meg, wake up.” She was still wearing his coat over her own, but he’d layered on multiple sweaters and unpacked the waterproof thermal jacket he usually wore fishing. Megan’s eyelids fluttered, her thick lashes caressing her high cheekbones. Even in the middle of a crisis situation, she made his blood dance with heat.

  She yawned, stretched, then bolted upright. Sleep must’ve taken her to a faraway place because as she glanced around their surroundings, the peaceful look she’d worn moments ago was replaced by strain and recognition. If only he had some indication of how imminent the danger was, he’d huddle close to her by the fire and share his plans.

  “I nearly forgot we were the survivors of a plane crash, camping out in the middle of the forest.” Megan quickly swiped her fingers through her sleep-rumpled hair. She always looked as pretty makeup free, hair a tangled mess, as she did in a form-hugging dress, hair blown out and her face all dolled up. He stifled the urge to reach out and touch her. The stirring in his chest was only lust caused by forced proximity and their life or death scenario. Wasn’t it? On the plane, they’d both agreed they were better off on their own, that their lives had taken separate directions that they were proud of, but last night cuddled by the fire he began to consider what life might’ve be
en like for them if he hadn’t been a coward. No, not a coward. Someone who had an intimate knowledge of where love led—straight to pain and abandonment. Shadows from his past were enough motivation to take a step back.

  “Yeah, it hit me like a train this morning, too. We need to talk for a couple minutes while Logan’s still snoozing,” he said, glancing over at the boy resting his stubborn chin atop his favorite stuffed spider.

  “What are you smirking at?” Megan tilted her head to the left and smiled lightly.

  “The song you sang on the airplane.” He couldn’t help but crack a grin, something he’d done more in the past twenty-four hours than the past eight years. Now wasn’t the time to think about why, or if it had to do with seeing Megan again. Of, course it did. Maybe he shouldn’t kid himself—Meg lit something inside him with her sweet and smart personality—but that didn’t mean he needed to leave himself vulnerable. He didn’t want to be hurt by someone he cared for. Enough pain already laid in his past.

  She blushed, reminding him of the pink glow of dawn slowly rising over the mountains. “Enough about my singing,” she chuckled. “Tell me what we need to talk about.”

  “Last night, I heard engines. Sounded like they were headed for the crash site.” He knelt down and began the process of snuffing out the fire. With danger unfurling its jagged fingers against their backs, they needed to get moving. And fast. “While you were still sleeping, I went back to the crash site. Sure enough, I found snowmobile tracks. Twin sets of prints.”

  Megan tensed, then blew out a breath. “And you don’t think it’s the rescue crew?”

  “I don’t.” Snow had blown into the shallow shelter, and with gloved hands, he piled what he could on top of the fire. Steam hissed through the snow, and he turned to Megan. “I have an idea where we can find a more secure shelter—one with a phone.”

  “We’d miss the helicopter,” she pointed out. “They’re bound to come straight to the plane, expecting to find us here.”

  “You’re right. But with two hitmen on our trail, I won’t put your life or Logan’s in the hands of a rescue crew that might not come in time.” An indescribable emotion flashed over her face, softening those glorious eyes. Gratitude? Uncertainty? He couldn’t place it, but the urge to protect her flared inside him.

  “How far?” she asked. Meg was already gathering their bags and checking supplies.

  “We can hike to the park’s Wilderness Center. It’s the closest source of civilization, although I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to find at this time of year.” The hissing coming from the fire had stopped, and using a stick, he mixed the ashes with more snow. The last thing he wanted to do was set the park on fire. “I’ve been camping and fishing in this park for years. If my calculations are right, the crash site is about twenty miles southwest from the center, based on our flight plan—near the Usibelli area. Route 3 runs north to south, so we’ll eventually run into the Center.”

  Megan nodded. “I’ll wake up Logan. I need to give him a drink, get something in his belly before we start hiking.”

  Ben was closest to their pack of supplies, so he reached in for a juice box. It was ice cold but not frozen due to its proximity to the fire. “Here,” he said handing her the drink and a bag of pretzels. His skin brushed against hers as she reached to take the items out of his hand. Tingles spread up his arms, leaving goosebumps in their path. She lifted her chin, exposing the vulnerable skin of her neck and warmth flooded him. Did she feel it too? This insane rush of electricity pulsing through the air every time they got close? By the way her pupils dilated, darkening her eyes, he would have to say yes. The primary objective was to get out of the wilderness physically unscathed. He’d do well to stay focused on that, and remember the importance of preserving his emotions. Once they got to safety, they’d certainly never see each other again, so what did these feelings right now matter?

  Instead of making him feel better, the thought just made him feel worse.

  Twenty minutes later, they’d left their makeshift camp. Logan had woken up looking for his mother and father and asked if today was the day he’d get to see them. Megan carefully explained that they were still on their adventure, but he’d see them real soon. She was a wonderful caretaker, would someday be a wonderful mother. Ben’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to imagine another man’s hands on her supple skin, caressing her rounded belly and the baby they’d made together. It must be a powerful feeling, to rest your hands on your partner and feel the life you created move between them. He shook the thoughts away. There was no happily-ever-after for him. It was only an illusion that eventually ripped you out of a fairy tale and dropped you into the jaws of a nightmare. How he’d craved the love of a mother and father figure. Even the time he’d come closest to finding a lasting home, his foster mom had lied about loving him like a son, and his foster father had been disgusted by the sight of him. A constant reminder that they were unable to have children of their own, and he had to settle for Ben to appease his wife.

  A gust of wind pressed at the front of his jacket, and he glanced down at his compass, something he was grateful to have slipped in his luggage the day of the flight. Ben adjusted their course so they were heading in a northeast direction. Hopefully, it was the only piece of equipment he needed to get them to safety and not the gun strapped in its holster. If anyone threatened them, though, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill. He kept glancing over his shoulder and listening to the sounds around them for anything out of place. Their pace was slow. Too slow.

  “Meg, why don’t you let me carry Logan for a while?” There was hesitation in her eyes. Her guarded expression shouldn’t sting, but it did all the same. Sure, he was gruff and not great with kids but he could sure as hell carry Logan without inciting a meltdown. Maybe.

  “I’m okay. Really.” The look in her eyes said “drop it,” and he understood why. Logan had clung to her like Velcro since the crash, and she was obviously worried about upsetting him more.

  He took a breath. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to like piggyback rides would you, Logan?” he said in a soft tone. Big brown eyes peered at Ben cautiously. “Bet you could see the whole forest from up on my shoulders,” he added, trying to persuade him.

  The little boy sucked in his bottom lip. “Animals?”

  “Sure, there’s tons of wildlife out here. And I bet you’d be able to see more from higher up.”

  “Okay,” Logan smiled shyly. It was the first time Ben had seen his impish grin since the crash. To be the one that put it there made him feel as tall as one of the soaring evergreens packed around them. He turned to Meg and lifted Logan out of her hands and onto his shoulders. When he started walking, Logan let out an excited whoop. Ben smiled and took a deep, satisfied breath.

  With Logan on his shoulders and each carrying a bag, they were able to move at a faster clip. The more distance they were able to put between themselves and the crash site, the better.

  “If it were summer, we’d have so much plant life to look at, Logan. We might even be able to find some wild blueberries. I bet the animals out here like blueberries just as much as you do. Keep your eyes open for tracks, and we can try to figure out the animal they came from, okay?” Meg said.

  “I’m gonna find a big bear.” There was an undertone of excitement in his voice, and Ben could tell he was looking all around by how much the boy was shifting on his shoulders. Meg seemed to slide something educational into everything she did with Logan. Heck, she’d even made the plane crash an enriching experience.

  “Meggie, look! What’s dat one?” Unable to see where Logan was pointing, Ben followed Meg’s eyes to the left.

  “Nice work, eagle eyes.” She hovered over the fresh footprints in the snow. “I’m not sure what those are though. Maybe I could take a picture, and we can compare the tracks to ones we find online when we get home.”

  “Actually, those are lynx tracks. The print gets that puffy look from the animal’s thick fur, and yo
u typically can’t spot the heal-pad in the snow, so you just have those four oval paw marks.” He smirked when Megan’s eyes widened.

  “I had no idea you knew so much about the wildlife here. What else can you tell us? A lynx is a wildcat right?”

  “Yeah, a large one. They’re similar to a bobcat but have long fur on the tips of their ears, and a black-tipped tail.” He shouldn’t be so proud of being able to explain some simple facts, but when he saw the impressed look on Megan’s face, he felt as though he’d just successfully completed a covert mission.

  “Ben,” Logan tugged softly at his hair. “Look. Shhhh.”

  He narrowed his gaze, and sure enough, there was an Alaska hare off to their right. Sensing them, the rabbit stood up on its hind legs.

  “He hears us coming, so he’s trying to get a better look around. That white coat of fur helps him blend into the snow and keeps him safe.”

  “I’m going to get a white coat too,” Logan said and wrapped both arms around Ben’s neck and rested the top of his chin on the top of Ben’s head. Ben’s heart expanded at the simple gesture of acceptance. For the next couple of hours, Meg and Logan would point out different trees, tracks, and the occasional bird and he’d share what he knew. He was getting surprisingly comfortable with Logan, and each time Ben knew the answer to one of their questions the kid would clap in delight. They may be running for their lives, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the day. There was something about the pair of them that was just so appealing. He was beginning to form a bond with Logan. He could relate to how the kid felt right now, lost and without his parents to comfort him. It felt good to be able to cheer the boy up and catch his interest with nature facts. He offered his hand to Megan as they scaled over a rocky patch of land, but even when the trail smoothed out, they stayed connected.