Wilderness Sabotage

by Heather Woodhaven

  NINE

  Shawn woke up in a sweat. He ached everywhere and felt a giant weight on his chest. He blinked slowly. The dim lighting made it hard to identify his surroundings, but he was dry and warm, and staring at a wooden ceiling. Something shifted next to his legs.

  “You’re awake.” Jackie sat propped upright, her back up against a wall, underneath a massive set of windows. From his vantage point, prostrate on the floor, he spotted blankets of vertical fog—likely snow—coming down on the mountain peaks in the distance. The sky looked precariously close to darkness.

  “This place faces west, so we can keep an eye on what’s going on,” she said. “Unfortunately, you can’t see as far as the geothermal plant. I think we need to get to that plateau you were talking about to get a good look.” She put down what looked like a pamphlet, shifted and moved to her knees. She placed a warm palm on his forehead. “Your fever broke.”

  She stood and moved to the smallest stove he’d ever seen, where she picked up a cast-iron kettle and poured liquid from it into a metal cup. “The Bureau really needs to reach out to the college students that built this warming hut so they can build more of them in the area. I’ve been reading about it while you slept. They built this as an experiment to see if a solar heating pump would work for a warming hut for snowmobilers. Then the trail society put in a propane stove as an added bonus.” She crossed the room and set down the cup. “Do you think you can sit up?”

  He yawned. The smells of pine and cedar and faint remnants of the fire ashes filled the room. He replayed everything she’d just said when he was barely awake. “Yeah.” His voice sounded more like a frog croaking.

  She tried to reach for his arm to pull him up, but he didn’t need the help. He had a headache, his muscles felt a little sore and his skin a little tingly, but other than that, he seemed back to normal. “I can’t believe it’s actually toasty in here.”

  She cringed. “I’m afraid we might be running out of heat soon. I cranked the radiator to the max setting. The brochure says six hours of use with the solar pump.” She pushed the warm mug into his hand. “Drink. Warm liquids will make me feel better about your core temperature.”

  The water was, in a word, disgusting. The metallic taste didn’t help his mood, but the rest of his body seemed to appreciate it. The next few minutes he endured her orders to eat and drink more until his mind finally cleared enough to engage.

  “I’m fine, Jackie.” He reached for her hand, then looked out the window and groaned. “Any sign of the gunmen? What time is it?”

  She shook her head and powered up her phone. “Still no signal, by the way. It’s just after four o’clock.”

  He groaned again. “That means we only have an hour before sunset. We’ve been here for hours.”

  “I know, but your safety was more important to me, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Leaving the heater behind is going to be hard to do.” She gestured to the side door. “Do you know they also have a bathroom? Compost toilets.” Her eyes twinkled. “You really have got to get the Bureau to upgrade—”

  “The Bureau manages more land than the Forest Service, but they get a bigger budget and three times as many employees.” He held up a hand. “Not that it’s a competition.”

  She grinned. “Ah, so I’ve touched on a sore subject.”

  “The sore subject is what we do next.” He picked up the pamphlet she’d left on the floor. “We need to get to that control room that has a phone, and call for help.”

  Jackie lifted her chin to look out the window. “The wind isn’t messing around, Shawn, and I don’t like how that storm front looks.”

  He followed her gaze. The blizzard was fast approaching. “Exactly my point.”

  “But there’s a woodstove here. If the blizzard hits before we make it to the building, we’re talking whiteout conditions for those looters out there, as well as us. If we stay here, we might be able to risk a fire. They wouldn’t be able to see it.” She crossed the room and pointed to a door. “There’s a changing room that would be big enough for me to sleep in so we could each have privacy.”

  He wasn’t sure how to tell her...

  Her expression clouded as he finally met her gaze. “We can’t stay here, though, can we?” she asked. “The archaeologist.”

  He nodded, relieved she understood. “Besides, if those men know the land like they seem to, they’ll eventually find their way here. I know I haven’t been much help today, and my first priority is to get you safe. But I also can’t ignore the fact that those men have Pete and might leave him to die in the blizzard.”

  Even more likely, the men might murder Pete when they no longer needed him, but Shawn couldn’t bear to voice that possibility.

  “I understand.” She placed a hand on top of his and her cheeks flushed. “You feel warm again. That’s good.” She stared hard for a few seconds before her shoulders sagged. “I was so scared you were getting close to the dangerous zone. I couldn’t remember all the stages of hypothermia.”

  “Your quick thinking and—” he reached down to pull off the itchy warming pads still in the boots “—ingenuity in what I could do to get warm made all the difference.” He frowned as he noticed an extra coat on top of him with the USFS logo.

  “I figured out how to open the ranger’s closet. There wasn’t much except that mug, some cleaning supplies and an extra USFS uniform, including the coat. I figured rangers are—at least philosophically—coworkers in a sense and wouldn’t mind. I just piled it all on top of you in lieu of blankets.”

  He took the pile of clothes she handed him and stepped into the restroom for a moment to change. While it seemed like a small act of betrayal to wear the green forestry uniform instead of his normal tan, he’d never been so thankful for dry, warm clothes. He opened the door to find her at the propane stove.

  “You saved me,” he said. “Thank you.” He noticed the two folding chairs pulled up close to the radiator with his clothes hanging on them, drying. She’d stayed busy while he’d slept.

  “Well, it’s my fault you needed saving.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe my mind is a little fuzzy, but I don’t follow. How do you figure?”

  “Like you said, I really don’t get along with cliffs.”

  He felt his eyebrows jump. “You don’t really think you could’ve avoided that fall through the snow today, do you? Even the great Wolfe Dutton—no pun intended—wouldn’t have been able to avoid the wolves, especially with someone shooting at him. Is that his real first name? Because I don’t think I questioned it growing up.” He had to stop for a second. What other thoughts did he need to revisit from his childhood? “And, even then, Wolfe experienced his share of falls—”

  “Only dramatized falls. The time he fell through a cornice, he’d already canvassed the area with his crew and knew it’d be a safe drop. And no, his real name is Walter, but that doesn’t sound nearly as adventurous as Wolfe, does it?” She shivered. “Although I’m not as fond of the name after coming face-to-face with wolves.”

  How could she really think today was her fault? He studied her face and the lines around her eyes. “Are you really still affected by that night all those years ago? When you were stuck on that ledge,” he added. “That night was more traumatic than we all imagined, wasn’t it?” His last question came out in a gentle whisper.

  He averted his gaze the moment he asked. He hadn’t meant to get so personal or sound so caring. Maybe he could blame his sudden emotional weakness on the lasting effects of hypothermia, but he’d be fooling himself. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be with her. The tenderness in her eyes had been knocking down all the guarded areas of his heart and leaving him vulnerable yet again.

  * * *

  The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift at his unexpected question. “It doesn’t occupy my mind all the time,” she finally said. “B
ut I also can’t seem to get away from my dad’s reputation, so I constantly feel pulled back. My first real job was as a reporter for the local news station. It was the same station you called.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”

  She shrugged. “The job was a short-lived stop in my career. I told everyone that the sensationalist nature of television didn’t appeal, but that was only half the story.” The tension in her ribs started to dissipate as she spoke. “The news director wanted to have a weekly feature where I would attempt survival stunts.”

  His eyes widened. “Wow. I take it you refused?”

  “Until it became an ultimatum. They felt certain, given my relationship to the great Wolfe Dutton, that it would boost ratings—even if I failed horribly, which I knew I would.”

  “Probably even more viewers if you failed.”

  She laughed at the thought. “You might be right, but I moved to reporting for the paper instead. I figured if they couldn’t see my face, then they wouldn’t be tempted to make it an issue.”

  “But you still get assigned the stories in the wild.”

  “With a lot of encouragement to reminisce about my childhood and experiences with Wolfe Dutton. I did have a lot of wonderful adventures as a child, but they’re my stories, and I don’t know if I want to share, especially not for my job.” She sighed. “I look forward to writing a feature big enough that I can call the shots on the stories I’d like to write without having to go as far as changing my name.”

  “So the hardest part of trying to say goodbye to the wilderness has been your job?” His question had a joking lilt to it, but something raw stirred within her, maybe because of lack of sleep.

  She moved to help him finish packing up the gear. If she kept busy, she wouldn’t seem as vulnerable. Shawn handed her one of the makeshift scarves she’d placed near the heater to dry. She wrapped it around her neck. “When I was little, it was all about proving I was just as good as Eddie. But I never loved the adrenaline of conquering the wilderness like my dad did.”

  “I suppose that’s natural when you have a twin brother.”

  “Maybe, but when I gave it up, I felt a little like I gave up the one thing my dad and I had in common.”

  Shawn chuckled, shaking his head.

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “Why is that funny?”

  “Because you and your dad are two peas in a pod.” He held out his hand and tapped his index finger. “I’ve never met two people so determined to achieve their goals.” He tapped his second finger. “You’re both the most passionate people on the planet.” He tapped his third finger. “Fierce and full of grit with the most out-of-the-box ideas to make things happen—”

  “Even if you’re right, I’d still like to reach my dreams on my own merit.”

  “No one really is self-made, Jackie. Maybe if you embraced who you are and stopped worrying about trying not to be like your dad, then you’d have already written the features you wanted.”

  She bristled at the notion that he understood her job better than she did. The topic had turned the focus too much on her, but the moment of vulnerability poked at her heart, tempting her to say the thing that had been flittering in the recesses of her mind all day.

  He sighed at her silence. “I probably spoke out of turn. We need to hurry,” he said. “The sun and our reprieve from the weather are disappearing.”

  The temptation grew to bursting. “Before we walk out that door together, can we set the record straight so I can move on?”

  Apprehension lined his face. “Okay?”

  “That’s more of a question than an answer, but I’ll take it. You said that we would’ve never worked out. I understand why we wouldn’t now, but why back then? We had a plan to go to school together. No more secret dating after Eddie left for the army...” She held her hands out, unsure whether she really wanted the answer or not.

  He dropped his head and shoulders. She almost didn’t recognize the suddenly defeated man in front of her. “You probably won’t understand, but I knew I’d never be good enough for you or your family. Probably not for anyone. It’s that simple.”

  That was the last thing she’d ever expected. “My family isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. I think you already know that, though. This is about the night of Eddie’s accident.”

  He crossed the room to put away the mug. “The whole unconditional love thing is either a myth that some people are too stubborn to admit, or it’s real but only for people who grow up with it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “What if it’s neither? I’m pretty sure God’s the only one truly capable of perfect love. We can decide to love like that, but we’re sure to royally mess up along the way.”

  He pointed at her. “See? That’s just what I’m getting at. The messing up is what hurts people. This way, whatever I do only affects me.”

  “You can’t believe that. Even if you live in the middle of nowhere, give me a week to investigate and I guarantee I can prove your choices still impact others.”

  He studied her for a full ten seconds before the intensity of emotion seemed to magnify in his face, as if he’d just solved a problem. “Is that why you became a journalist? To investigate how choices impact others?”

  Every time she started to think that he didn’t know her very well anymore, he pulled some profound observation out of his hat. It infuriated her that he was right. “Somewhat.” A reflection out of the window caught her eye. “Shawn. Get down!”

  She crouched, her fingertips holding the windowsill. She lifted her chin until she could peek over the edge. “I saw light reflecting off the snow below.” She pointed. “There’s the beam again. Some ATVs are on a corridor of some sort between the foothills.”

  He groaned. “They doubled back, then. I knew they’d check this route. That’s the way the construction workers take to get back to town. The path avoids the lake.”

  “Why didn’t we take that?” The thought that they needlessly suffered through an interchange with wolves and a frozen lake was almost too much to bear.

  “Because to get on that path, you have to be to the east of that field trailer, out in the open. We would’ve been seen. I kept us on the most covered route to avoid being discovered.”

  She grabbed the binoculars out of the pack and focused on the ATVs. After three tries with the dials she finally got the focus right. “I can’t see their faces, but they sure look like a couple of the same men.” She let out a long breath of pent-up frustration. “Where does the route go?”

  He paled. “It will lead them straight here.”

  TEN

  The lights bounced up and down like a roller-coaster ride. Shawn accepted the pair of binoculars from Jackie. “I’d guess they’re half a mile away.” A snowplow appeared to be attached to the nose of the first ATV. The second vehicle stayed close, dragging a small trailer, like the type that would usually transport such a vehicle.

  “Do you think they’ve got the stuff they’ve been looting in that trailer?” Her fingers gripped the window ledge. “You don’t see the archaeologist on either of the vehicles, do you?”

  He took another look. “I only see two men on the ATVs, but it’s possible they’re carrying antiquities. If so, they might not need Pete anymore.” He pressed his lips tight together. If they hurt him...

  “You think they are coming straight for us?”

  Shawn lowered the binoculars and frowned. “Since they’re carrying a trailer, we can hope they aren’t hunting for us.”

  Jackie shivered. “Unless they plan to kill us, put us in the trailer and stage an accident like that Darrell guy.”

  He raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t considered a person being in there. What if Pete was trapped in there? “Most likely they’re headed for the closest town. Due east. They’ll take a sharp turn and head away from us on the snowmobile path
s.” If only voicing his hopes aloud made them come true.

  “If we’re that close to a town now, can we follow them at a distance?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve never missed central heating so much. Oh, and a real meal, not trail mix or jerky.” Her stomach gurgled loudly.

  He blew out a long breath and tried to ignore the way his own stomach churned. “If only. On a snowmobile or ATV it’ll take them half an hour—maybe longer at their current speed—to get there. It would take us twenty times as long on foot with constant steep inclines and declines to hike.”

  She exhaled. “Judging by the clouds to the west, the blizzard is almost here.”

  “We definitely wouldn’t make it to town before we were trapped. In whiteout conditions, I don’t know that area well enough to lead us.” He gestured with his head to the north. “I think we have a better chance of getting on that ridge and sticking to plan A.”

  He handed her the binoculars so she could see for herself. “Notice how it’s at a diagonal? We would travel more as the crow flies, and it’s all downhill. I’d guess we’d only have a mile on it until we’d reach the lowest point where we could rappel down. From there, we’d just need to sneak to the back edge of the plant. That might take us another hour, but then we’d be to the control building with a phone and a generator to run the heat.”

  “So we have a plan, but that doesn’t account for the fact that those men are heading straight here, right now.” Her voice rose and wobbled as she returned the binoculars to him.

  He accepted and reached for her hand. “Don’t worry. There’s no need to stop here. They’ll make a slight left and be on their way without so much as—”

  The ATV with the plow rounded the top edge, now level with their location. The headlights bounced over a bump and swung to the right, directly into the warming hut window. Right at them.

  “Duck!” they both said at the same time.

  She grabbed his backpack and slid it in his direction, across the slick floor. She zipped up her coat and threw on her pack in a heartbeat. The design of the warming hut didn’t leave much in the way of hiding spots. The ranger closet might be a possibility, or the bathroom with compostable toilet, but if the men checked either one, they would be trapped without an exit. The hut had been built with fire escape in mind, though, so there was a back door. Unfortunately, the back wall was practically made up of windows, as well. There was nowhere decent to hide.