Wilderness Sabotage

by Heather Woodhaven

  She wasn’t in the right mindset to listen to encouragement. When she’d seen the dead body in her car, she’d reached her breaking point. “I thought you knew this area. Didn’t you know about the mine?”

  “If I had, there would’ve been wire sealing off the entrance and a giant orange sign that said Stay Out, Stay Alive.” He threw his arms up in the air and exhaled. “There are hundreds—thousands, maybe—of abandoned mines we haven’t found yet. Ancient. You know that.” He dropped his hands and his shoulders rounded. She saw then. He was shaken, too.

  The wind gusted and seemed to suck out the air from her lungs. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’m letting all this get to me.” The snow pelted her face without any sign of stopping.

  “What worries me most is whoever we’re dealing with knows the land better than I do.” He dropped to his knees.

  “What are you doing?” She realized they’d been following their footsteps back to the tree line. “We have to keep moving. It’s too late to stop. Let’s get to the other side. Sturdy rock over there, remember? Are you okay?”

  He froze and looked up. He lifted his gun. “Much better now.” He stood and holstered his weapon.

  A light flashed in the distance. “Was that light going or coming?”

  “I can’t be sure. Let’s assume they turned a corner. Please, follow me.”

  She held up a hand. “We should use the rope now, right? We don’t know when one of us could fall through another snow bridge.”

  He hesitated to answer.

  “Is it a bad idea?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He tied the rope around her waist. “I’m scared, though. If I fall, you go down with me. I can’t stomach seeing you hurt,” he said softly.

  She stared at him in confusion. What had happened to the man who wanted to go everything alone? He turned away from her and they pressed on. Once they reached the trail the ATVs had taken, she forced herself into a jog to get across.

  Shawn kept glancing back, his face turned into the wind, to check on her, and she waved him ahead. There was no use talking. The weather wouldn’t let him hear her even if she shouted. The cloud shifted and the moon got its chance to light up the sky. The snowflakes dissipated.

  They reached the rocky plateau. It had a downhill slant just as he’d told her to expect. She took another step and her leg gave out, sending her tumbling into the snow.

  Shawn jogged back, his hands outstretched. “Are you okay?”

  Her cheeks burned from the wind and the heat of embarrassment. She trained to stay physically fit, but never before had she asked her body to endure so much. “Aside from needing a massage and a hot shower, I’m peachy.” She glanced down at her pants. They were almost soaked through. His were, as well. If they didn’t get to some warmth soon, they would both be facing the real threat of frostbite. “My boots don’t have the best traction.”

  The light bounced again and she studied the trajectory of the beams. “They’re definitely coming back this way already.”

  “We spent a lot of time getting out of that mine.”

  Although they’d made it across and above the trail to the plateau, they would still be in perfect line of sight as soon as the vehicles curved around the final bend. The moon and stars to the east provided enough light to make out a shadowed line of shapes farther down the hill, though it was hard to see in between the gusts of blowing snow. “Shawn, there’s nowhere to hide.”

  “I know.” He turned to her. “What would Wolfe Dutton do?”

  She barked a laugh. “Oh, the cold really must be getting to you to ask that.”

  “I’m trained in survival skills but not running for my life. You and your dad had the imagination to come up with all sorts of scenarios for his show and how to get out of it.”

  “I don’t know what my dad would do. He never did an episode like this.”

  “So forget that. What would Jackie Dutton do?”

  She reared back in surprise. “What?”

  “The only idea I have is burying ourselves in the snow before they round those next two bends and see us.”

  “You’re so determined to make a snow cave! But we’re soaked in wet clothes with no hope of drying off, and digging enough room would take too long.”

  “The worst thing hikers can do is press on in the darkness, especially in a storm,” he fired back.

  “Most hikers don’t have other men hunting them down.”

  “So we run and hope they don’t notice us.”

  “We can’t travel that much distance that fast by foot.” She knew what he was doing with the rapid-fire exchange. Forcing a debate, challenging her, encouraging the best in her to rise up. She pushed away all other emotions and focused on the danger at hand, and she knew what they had to do. “Glissade.”

  The term was really a fancy way to say they needed to go sledding without a sled. His eyes widened and he looked behind him at the thick rock plateau that took them straight downhill for a good mile. “We don’t have an ice ax to slow us down. We could go too fast and not be able to stop and—”

  “And die,” she finished for him. But if they stayed put, they would surely die, as well. She moved her backpack to the front, putting it on backward so the padding covered her chest. If they slid down, she didn’t want her pack being ripped off of her from the speed. “I don’t see any other way. Do you? We’re exhausted, our clothes are wet...”

  “The angle could be deceptive. We still have ropes around our—”

  “If one of us goes off course, then the other has a chance to stop them.”

  “Agreed. It’s the best idea we’ve got.” He sat down in the snow, his legs slightly bent. “It’s now or never. As soon as we get to that line of trees, we do everything in our power to brake.”

  She sat beside him and made sure her pants, even though damp, were still tucked into her boots. “Let’s pray there’s not another abandoned mine.”

  “I’ve already prayed that prayer.” He nodded gravely. “Say when. Any second and they’re going to see us.”

  She leaned back ever so slightly. The snow proved packable, and if not for the horrible conditions and utter exhaustion, the break in the weather would be ideal for a snowman. “Now.”

  A slight shove-off with her hands proved all that was necessary with a sloped terrain. She picked up speed at a surprising rate. She tucked her chin in as snow pelted her from every angle. Faster and faster. They had to be pushing over thirty miles an hour at this rate. The shapes in the distance came into focus. The trees approached rapidly.

  She pressed her heels down deeper, hoping to slow down, but instead, her pace increased. She threw her legs and arms out wide, clawing the snow with her heels and fingers. She dared a look to her left.

  Shawn lifted his right arm, clearly struggling with the sheer speed, as well, but he pointed. He shouted a word she couldn’t hear, but there was no questioning that he was trying to tell her to go to the trees. He twisted, falling over onto his side, which forced his legs to point in her direction. He slid diagonally, right for her.

  If she didn’t make adjustments, he’d barrel right into her. Or the rope that connected them would make her go that way whether she wanted to or not. She mimicked his movements, but a wrong calculation would mean slamming into a tree, which at this speed would break bones or worse.

  TWELVE

  Shawn aimed his trajectory for one lone tree that stood a good twenty feet away from the other thicker grouping. Satisfied with the angle, he flopped back onto his back. The snow pelted him from every direction. At this speed, the flakes felt like sand pelting his face.

  He squinted through the blowing snow. If he aimed left of the tree and Jackie aimed right, it would catch the rope in the middle and force them to stop. But not necessarily before they hit the rest of the trees.

  Either way, this was going to
hurt.

  Shawn flipped over onto his stomach and dug his arms and feet deeper into the snow. Mercifully, his speed slowed. Hopefully Jackie was doing whatever she could to slow down, too. He dug his feet in deeper. His speed decreased. The low branches of the tree slapped his back. They’d passed the tree. Please...

  The snow thickened, hardened, underneath the north side of the tree. His knees objected, as if sliding along a hardwood floor. He gritted his teeth against the discomfort. Slower, slower. Pressure tugged at his waist from the rope hanging up on the tree trunk, but he stopped, panting, shivering, before the rope dug deep. He flipped over onto his back. The evergreen trees wore thick white scarves made of snow on each row of branches. The clouds above them parted enough to show the most dazzling spectacle of glittering stars.

  The snow insulated him from the wind for a brief moment. He heard Jackie’s movements nearby.

  “What if this is the last Christmas we ever have?” she asked.

  That was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her. “What? Don’t talk like that.” He jumped up to a crouch and ran toward her.

  “We might not survive, so it could be. My favorite Christmas memories are walking into the dark living room with nothing shining but the lights on the Christmas tree and dawn’s first light barely seeping through the windows.”

  He reached her and took a knee, worried she’d hit her head, as she hadn’t moved from her sprawled position in the snow. “Are you okay? We’ve descended far enough they shouldn’t be able to see us.”

  “What was your favorite Christmas memory?” She shivered and held her stomach tightly. The rope tied around her waist had likely bruised her, and he realized she was buying time to recover before she needed to move. He would do anything to have her home right this minute, but he knew he had more to ask of her if they were going to make it to safety.

  “Your parents gave good gifts. I still have the multi-tool your dad gave me. Made to last,” he said.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s your favorite memory?”

  He exhaled. “Fine. Christmas dinner. I liked the way everyone teased each other but in a good-natured way.” Those dinners were the only time he’d witnessed how a real family interacted.

  She gave a self-satisfied smile. “Knew it.” Her smile dropped.

  “Jackie, be honest. Are you okay?”

  She waved him away, her hand still on her stomach. “I will be. I have to be. Just give me another second. Pretend we’re in a snow cave.” Her smile wobbled and she pointed at the trees above, from her position in the snow. “Someone once told me that Martin Luther walked home one Christmas Eve and became stunned by the beauty of the shimmering tree in the moonlight. He went home that night and decorated a fir tree with small candles. I don’t know if it’s historically accurate, but it’s easy to believe. The snow does glisten like little lights from this angle. It’s beautiful.”

  Shawn held out his hands and helped her to a seated position, though he wasn’t ready to let go of her. “I thought we have Christmas trees because the branches are pointing upward and the evergreen tree reminds us of eternal life.”

  “Whatever the reason, I’d just like to imagine this one is my Christmas tree.”

  He pointed to the tallest one in the middle. “This one? Good choice. You can see it from the valley below. I hope every year that no one gets a permit to cut it down.” The adrenaline faded ever so slightly, even though his heart continued to pump as if running a marathon.

  A star rocketed through the midnight sky to the east. “Do you think the wise men were glad they didn’t have to follow that star?”

  He laughed. “Okay, now I’m worried about what the cold is doing to your brain.” He tugged gently on her hands. “Time to get up, out of the snow. Not much farther now.”

  “The cold is winning, that’s what it’s doing to me.” She groaned as she stood and moved the backpack from her chest to her back. The wind whistled around them, but the tree provided just enough shelter to catch their breath.

  He stared into her eyes, also glistening from the reflection of the stars. It was like his heart had been dormant in a winter slumber for ages, and despite the freezing storm about to attack them, his heart seemed determined to thaw in her presence. “I’ve always known you were amazing, Jackie, but I’m reminded over and over just how much.”

  Her eyes softened. Even with her wet hair and red cheeks, she radiated beauty from the inside out. She stepped closer and opened her mouth to reply when their Christmas tree exploded in bullets.

  “No!”

  Shawn covered his arms over her head as they both cowered. They’d been too late, then. The men on the ATVs had spotted them from above. An intense wind gust swayed another tree in their direction. Snow flew up in their faces. He grabbed Jackie’s hand and tugged her deeper into the trees. “Stay down.” They brushed in between two trees, and a second later, another gunshot cracked the branches.

  “I’m trying not to touch the branches,” Jackie yelled.

  “More concerned about the bullets touching us at the moment.”

  He spotted a drop-off point. It might not have been the one he was initially thinking of, but he didn’t have the time or lighting to find the best vantage point. He turned to the closest tree and searched for the thickest branch.

  He pressed his boot into the needles and hopped on the branch until it bent down. Jackie offered an arm to help him balance, and he kicked at the weakest point of the branch, until it snapped off.

  Her eyes widened. “Are you serious? We’re trying a snow anchor?”

  She understood his intention. Good. “The drop-off point is too far away from the trees, but we are angled away from the path the ATVs must be on. I think if we time it right, we can get off the cliff without being shot,” he said.

  “But the snow? Do you think it will hold us?”

  “You saw how it packed.”

  She closed her eyes. “Okay.”

  “No other ideas?” If she didn’t debate him, that actually gave him peace. It meant it really was the best idea they had.

  “None. I can’t believe I’m choosing to go over a cliff this time. Has to be better than doing so by accident, right?”

  Man, he loved this woman. The unbidden thought stole his breath before the wind could. He couldn’t process it right now. “They appear to have stopped shooting for the moment, but that might be because they’re headed this way. Keep your head down in case I’m wrong and they shoot.” He’d been wrong more times than he’d like to admit, but he prayed that this time he’d guessed right.

  He rushed forward into the open snow and stopped two feet short of the edge, in case he fell victim to a snow bridge or another cornice. He dug frantically in the snow, until about a foot down.

  Jackie reached his side, anxiously scanning the tops of the trees in front of them. She dropped to her knees. “We’re doing the T-Trench snow anchor?”

  “Yeah.” He grabbed the rope between them and slipped it on the middle of the stick before he shoved the stick underneath the lip of snow he’d packed down. Jackie rapidly refilled the trench from the back edge while Shawn made a much thinner trench on the top of the snow for the rope to follow.

  Engine noises carried through the wind. “I’m really beginning to dislike that sound,” he muttered. He looked up. “You ready?”

  She hopped over the trench area and they checked their ropes, together. She dropped to her knees, eyes closed. “Lord, be with us.”

  “Amen.” He threw the extra rope over the side, even though the ends were still tied to their waists. They would need to work their way down to the end. They dropped to their stomachs, stuck their legs out behind them, both holding on to their sides of the rope, and began inching backward.

  Jackie stopped for a second and removed a six-inch branch from within her hair. “I never thought
I’d have a love-hate relationship with pine.”

  “Those are spruce. Both trees have vitamin C but pine tea tastes more like turpentine. Spruce isn’t too bad. Motivation to tell the difference.”

  She laughed but kept inching backward. “Keep talking. I prefer to think we’re doing a crazy stunt than running away from men who want to kill us and throw us into a mine.”

  His feet met air and he stilled for a moment. She gasped as hers did, as well. “Stay there a second.”

  He tugged on the rope. So far the trench anchor had worked. “Here goes.” He slid down farther, always keeping a hand on the rope. He dropped, his body fully away from the edge, and swung with the wind until his feet pushed against the rock wall, taking some of the sting off his shoulders and arms. He stuck his legs out so he was sitting on air and glanced down. The moon weaved in and out of visibility but he spotted the cement pads and drilling equipment below them. They just needed to get to that control room and call for help.

  Now, if only he could guarantee they didn’t run out of rope before they reached the bottom.

  * * *

  The moment her feet reached air she wanted to cry out. She enjoyed rock climbing. Indoors with fake rock and a padded floor below, though, and only after she’d been sedentary for the rest of the day at work. Hanging by a rope, being tossed about by gusts of wind after her body had already been tested to its limits, was not the same thing.

  She fought between wanting to use her feet as a clamp around the rope, which would take the brunt of most of her body weight, and needing her feet to keep her far away from slamming into rock. Each time the wind stilled, she’d lean back as far as possible, both hands gripped around the rope. She relaxed her palms and feet just enough to slide down as rapidly as possible. She felt Shawn’s hands as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her closer to the rock face, wordlessly.