“I thought I heard something,” a voice announced.
Jackie laid her head on her forearms. As the pine needles were sticking directly into his scalp like an acupuncture treatment deserving of a malpractice charge, he tried to do the same. The snow below him worked through the layers of insulation in the coat and caused his muscles to tense against the cold.
“I don’t see any footprints.”
“So animals rustling inside, then. We probably woke up some squirrel from nap time.”
“Squirrels don’t hibernate.”
Shawn’s ear was so close to the ground he could hear their boots making a swoosh sound with each step.
“They sleep a lot in winter,” the other man responded.
“That’s exactly the same thing as hibernating. Nobody there,” the voice that’d given the weather report announced.
“It’s absolutely not the same thing,” the third man groused.
A gunshot rang out and hit the tree next to them.
They both flinched, but somehow kept quiet.
“A little warning next time,” one of the men shouted.
“Just making sure you didn’t miss something.”
“Now they know where we are.”
“Good. We’ve put them on the defensive and they’ll get on the move.” The older man who seemed to be calling the shots had no shortage of confidence. “They can’t hide within those trees forever. If they want to escape the blizzard, they’ve got to come out into the open. I’ll take a spin around the perimeter and make sure you didn’t miss tracks. Carl, you take the other side. Spencer, you stay here with Mr. Wooledge. Make sure he stays on task. The clock is ticking.”
Shawn felt fingers touch his hand. He fought to look up and found Jackie’s hand wrapped around his. She could only lift her head a few inches, as well, but it was enough to read the concern in her eyes. The trailer was no longer an option and the men were hunting them. They were fast losing their chance at survival.
SEVEN
The man was right. They couldn’t hide in the trees forever. Evergreens of all sorts made good Christmas trees, but they were not in any way, shape or form good for a deadly game of hide-and-seek.
“Let me make sure that Spencer guy went inside the trailer,” Shawn whispered.
His movements made the branches above her wiggle and dump copious amounts of snow on the back of her head. She deserved it, though. She’d been the one who stepped on and snapped the branch. It was just like the incident with the cougars all over again. She should’ve checked her surroundings—
“Jackie,” Shawn whispered. “Come on. I know where we have to go.”
He reached a hand out, and as soon as she gripped his palm, he tugged, dragging her out, past whatever had snagged her pack.
Shawn touched his finger to his chest, indicating she should follow him. They moved slower than before. They hiked up a steep incline, only partially obscured from view. The trees thinned in number. Each step was a test of will, as her legs had already been pushed past normal endurance levels.
Jackie found a foothold on a snow-covered boulder. She put her weight on her right foot and the rock shifted. She cried out as she slipped. Strong hands grabbed her waist, lifted and pulled her backward.
“I’ve got you,” Shawn said.
“I’m sorry I yelled. Do you think they heard me?”
A quick look over his shoulder didn’t reveal the men, but their motors could be heard in the distance. “Let’s hope not.” The sporadic wind gusts played with her hearing, and she was no longer sure in which direction the ATVs and snowmobiles were headed.
He tapped the broken rock. “Looks like sandstone to me. Breaks off easily. This hillside is full of it.”
“Great. It’s going to be slow going, isn’t it?”
“Time is not on our side.” Shawn reached for her hand. “Let’s work together.”
Holding his hand felt more natural, though they were both wearing gloves. Trying to escape people who wanted to end their lives left no room for awkward moments.
Almost in tandem, one of them climbed up a few paces, testing the footholds, and then the other caught up using the proven footsteps. They repeated the routine until it felt like they would be taking turns for the rest of their lives.
Shawn hesitated for a second. The small break in momentum gave her a chance to catch her breath. At least he’d chosen a route a snowmobile couldn’t mimic. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and spotted the top of the trailer. “We’ve gone quite a distance,” she said. “Too bad we can’t keep an eye on those ATVs.”
“They’re probably checking the roads closest to Darrell’s truck. They’re assuming we would head for the most common route to civilization.”
“Aren’t we?” Her voice shook with exhaustion. Without the tough physical task of climbing that took all her mental and emotional energy, she felt at risk of falling apart.
He glanced down at her with one eyebrow raised. “Eventually. Our route is just a little riskier to avoid their perimeter searches. Do you have the Taser?”
She nodded. “I don’t have a holster, though.”
“It’s safe enough to carry in your pocket. The pockets in that coat can zip if you’re worried about it falling out. You know how to use it, right?”
“I think so. I took some self-defense classes a few years back.” As a single woman living on her own, she’d made it a priority when she was in broadcast news. For some reason, it didn’t seem as important now when only her byline showed up in print. “It works the same as the ones available to private citizens, right?”
“The ones on the market incapacitate for a full thirty seconds so you can drop the Taser and run away—better still, drive away. The range is about fifteen feet for personal use, while police-issued ones travel twice that.”
“So how long do the ones rangers carry incapacitate? Double the amount, like a minute?” The thought of accidentally setting it off terrified her even more.
“Uh, no. Ones designed for law enforcement only last five seconds.”
“What? Why so little?”
“To avoid using force unless absolutely necessary. If we’re close enough for the Taser to reach its mark, that should be all we need to disarm and apprehend the suspect.”
“Wow.” She laughed. “I guess you’re not supposed to run away.”
He smirked. “Generally not. Unless you’re outnumbered with no backup and want to keep a friend safe.” He exhaled. “My favorite part of my job is teaching people about the land and the animals. There is so much to appreciate here that isn’t noticed by the average park goer.”
An unusual swoosh sound followed by drums of some sort reached her ears. “Shawn?”
He took a few steps to the northwest. Through a sliver of bushes and evergreens, a valley could be seen below. “It’s the sage-grouse—those funny little birds I told you about.”
The birds gathered next to a grouping of what looked like tumbleweed. One of the birds flashed pointy feathers and strutted. It puffed up its chest and made the most ridiculous sound. Whenever the bird walked, its ring of fur rose to its neck like a puffy white collar. “I can’t believe that was a bird.”
“Quite a courting call,” he said with a laugh, waving her forward. Every muscle wanted to stop for a while, but his smile encouraged her to keep going. Shawn pumped his arms to get over a particularly thick portion of snow. “I’ve often wondered if he knows how silly he looks and sounds, and if the female agrees.”
“It takes vulnerability to show how much you care about a person. At least she knows she’s wanted.”
The grouse stopped their song and the air stilled with uncomfortable silence. She’d said too much. Despite her resolve to let the past go, her tongue had a will of its own, determined to sneak in little jabs of reminders. What they needed was a change
of subject. “Am I off base or should we be worried about your archaeologist friend?”
He turned to her, his face pale. “You picked up on that? Pete Wooledge is his name—off the record.”
“I could find out his name for myself if I wanted. He’s in a public position. We are running for our lives, and frankly, at this point, I think everything that’s happening is as much part of my personal story as the Bureau’s.”
“And that’s my fault.”
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “If you hadn’t called in that news tip, someone else probably would have. Maybe someone from the construction crew—the foreman was beyond frustrated—and I still would’ve ended up here.”
“Thanks, but I know better.”
“How about this—if we get out of this alive, you can proclaim ‘off the record’ all you like. For now, can you tell me why we’re going this way? Where is this risky route taking us?”
“The only hope of the archaeologist surviving is if we get to a phone and get backup.” His hand drifted to his gun. “I think we’re dealing with looters.”
She felt her eyebrows jump. “What kind of looters?”
“If I had to guess, I would say tribal antiquities. The Bureau finds new tribal sites every year. It’s estimated that there are likely thousands more undiscovered sites on Idaho public lands. It’s why we have to be so thorough and involve the archaeologists before we so much as put an outhouse on the land.”
“So you think these looters are holding Mr. Wooledge hostage and making him find these tribal sites for them?”
“More likely they’ve already found one and they’re making him catalog or unearth it or something. Looters are the most likely group of people to hold an archaeologist hostage. We have a most-wanted list back at the field office. I didn’t recognize those men, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve changed their hair or aged since their pictures were taken. Sometimes they sell what they find for personal gain, but others sell to fund terrorist groups.”
“Doesn’t it seem unlikely that there are so many sites you haven’t found?”
“I’m responsible for millions of acres. Millions, Jackie, with all sorts of topography. On top of it all, the Oregon Trail crossed over here and split off into the California Trail, as well. We don’t even know all the places the gold-happy settlers tried their hand at mining, even if technically it wasn’t their land. So yes, I think given the history and statistics I’ve been given, it’s very likely.”
She surveyed the land with new eyes. Nothing seemed flat, but everything seemed beautiful. What other mysteries did the land hold? “So you’re saying you have a plan.”
“We can’t go back the direction we came if those men are looking for us, so we’re going to take a bit of a roundabout and sneak behind the back of the plant.” He pointed southeast. “If I remember right, somewhere past this grouping of foothills, there’s a rise that builds up to a plateau. If we can get to that, it curves all the way around to the eastern edge of the construction site. I know that the control building of the plant already had a generator and emergency landline installed.”
“But that’s where the murder—”
He held up a hand. “I know. But that’s why we walk on top of the plateau until we get closer to the cement pads. We’ll rappel down and sneak behind the construction site until we get to the control building. It’s the best option for us to get help, to keep you safe.”
“You’re not going to try to get the archaeologist first?”
He stopped and stared right into her eyes. “You’re my first priority.”
The timbre of his voice and the meaning of his words made her heart race. She averted her gaze and turned to the west. From this vantage point she should be able to see mountains instead of a wall of fog. Or was it the storm front?
The thick clouds above made her think of inversions in the Boise area, where air would get stuck in the mountains and become stagnant. Residents were asked to stop using their wood fireplaces during times like that. Here, it meant she couldn’t tell where the sun hovered in the sky. “What’s the prevailing wind here?”
“West.” He pointed to her right. “Come on. Just a little longer and we’ll reach the top.”
A bullet rang out through the sky and hit the snow ten feet in front of her. “Shawn!”
“It’s a man with a rifle. Keep going!”
She hunched over and kept her gaze on the finish line. Almost there. Then they’d be on the other side, hidden. Until the shooter caught up on his snowmobile, at least. She couldn’t focus on the despair growing in her chest. Another bullet kicked snow up to her left. The ground gave way and her foot dropped through the snow.
“Jackie!”
Her entire body plummeted through the snow and greeted nothing but air. A scream tore from her throat as she dropped toward a sharp descent. She flung her arms wide and stuck out her feet, crying out as her backside made contact with the thick snow.
She lifted her left knee and twisted it inward, trying to use her boot as a rudder or a brake. Her right leg remained as straight as she could keep it as she sped down the steep snowbank, topping any speed she’d ever achieved on a pair of skis.
“Hold on,” Shawn called out.
To what? She kept her arms wide, tucked her chin to her chest and fought to keep her shoulders off the ground. She’d never wanted to be a human toboggan. If she kept the same trajectory she’d slide right over a flat surface with an upward slant. It was likely a rock covered in snow but might as well have been a skateboard ramp.
She dug her left heel and left shoulder into the snow and veered. But not enough. Once again she hit air, except this time she landed on a hard, flat surface and rolled until she came face-to-face with a wolf.
She dared not break eye contact, but she didn’t want to appear like she was challenging the animal, either. He opened his mouth and bared his teeth. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees. The wolf growled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine.
She felt the impact of Shawn landing somewhere behind her. His grunt confirmed he’d survived. “You and cornices really don’t get along,” he muttered.
“Not the time,” she said through gritted teeth.
She straightened, holding her hands out toward the wolf. If it made any sudden moves, though, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. And she really didn’t need to be reminded that she was not cut out for this. Once again, she’d made a mistake with no hope of rescue, because right behind the wolf stood an entire pack, glancing up from some sort of animal carcass.
Shawn gasped. She could hardly swallow or take a breath. “I think we’ve interrupted their dinner.” She forced herself to lift her arms, slowly, making herself look as tall as possible. Trying to force her face into a fierce expression wasn’t working, though. She’d written an article once on fear having a particular scent that animals could smell. This was the only time she wished that her reporting proved to be garbage.
“I really hope we don’t look better than the planned menu.”
* * *
Shawn’s breath came out in heaving puffs that floated away, like clouds, in the breeze. They were on borrowed time before the gunmen caught up. At least they were on flat land for once, and Jackie didn’t appear to have any broken bones. He didn’t, either, though his lower back was likely to file an official complaint later.
The growl from the wolf six feet in front of Jackie didn’t help his heart rate recover. He took a step closer and the growl intensified and caught the interest of another wolf that had been content feasting nearby. He squinted for a closer look. The average wolf pack was made up of six to eight wolves.
He spotted twelve. Please tell me I accidentally counted twice.
“We don’t have time for this. That gunman might have to go a longer route to get here, but he’ll tell the others. They’ll catch
up.” Jackie held her arms up in a threatening manner, but the wolf didn’t seem the least bit deterred.
Shawn noticed the tip of a three-foot branch caught up in the laces of Jackie’s boots. While not very thick, the stick might help their cause. He bent over slowly, not wanting to give the wolf any reason to pounce. “Don’t stare into his eyes,” he said firmly. “You’ll feel a tugging on your boot. Hold your stance.”
“It’s hard to look at him without looking into his eyes!” Her voice grew in volume and she shook her arms at the wolf. The wolf took the slightest step backward.
“Good.” Shawn wrapped his hand around the branch and took a step beside her while swinging the branch upward. The wolf took another step backward. Unfortunately, two more of his buddies developed an interest.
“Shawn—”
“I know. They’re probably just guarding their food.”
“Okay. Okay. So we back up slowly, right?” She rose on her tiptoes and waved her arms. “Back off!”
He hollered and waved the stick in front of him in an arc. “That’s it. Yeah, let’s back away until they aren’t interested, but we can’t run or—”
“We die. I know. Let’s just hope this time I don’t fall off a cliff.”
He knew she was recalling her incident with a cougar all those years ago. “I admit you don’t have the best record with falling.”
“You finally understand why my family used to call me Grace.”
At any other time he might’ve chuckled at the memory. They had teased her, but that’d all stopped after she’d gone missing. He’d never told her what it was like for him, waiting until the search team had found her. He’d experienced the same feeling when she’d disappeared in that mound of snow at the top of the hill a moment ago.
Shawn waved the stick in front of him again because he wasn’t about to go through the feeling of terror again. “Don’t show fear, either, and step behind me.” He felt Jackie’s fingers grab the back of his coat. She tugged, leading him backward. “That’s right,” he said. “Good. Let’s stay together.”
Wilderness Sabotage Page 8