Wolf Canyon: Cold Cat Mountain Book II (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy 2)

by Kimberly Goss-Kearney

  Blaze leaned to one side. “No… I hadn't.”

  An image flashed through her mind of the dark hole in the ground she had found her way out of. Another image of the creature trying to shove Hoyd into the hole created a strobe light effect on her memory, making her wince.

  “Blaze if those creatures are intelligent enough to exist for this long without being drawn out, wouldn't it make sense to at least consider they're intelligent enough to identify you as a risk? On some level?”

  Blaze stood up. “Wait. How do you know so much about this? The bench warming part, the risks?” Rick rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I pay attention to detail. I'm good at it. Just like I've noticed you’re the only one headed up there with an illness. These are things you should think about before you go. The people organizing all of this have a different goal. You'll see it when the rescue starts coming unraveled. You’ll see all of their agendas float to the surface.”

  “And?” Rick shook his head. “And, why do they need you?” He held up his hand. “I'm not asking why you're going, now. At this point in our conversation, I'm asking why they want you to. Have you asked yourself that?”

  Blaze muttered under her breath.

  “What's that?” Looking up, she scowled. The questions she was being asked were making a part of her uncomfortable. “Something about discernment. I can supposedly spot a predator.”

  Rick laughed. “You serious? Obviously they’re predators. Why do they need you up there to tell them that?”

  Blaze frowned at the floor. Something clicked and she looked up again. “They said that predators could sense my presence. It would draw them in.”

  Rick narrowed his eyes. The green turned to a dark forest color as it swirled around his pupils. “They want you as bait.”

  Blaze felt the weight of certainty. Ren had already confirmed that.

  “But why? Going after Shelby and...” He hesitated, not saying Matilda's name. “Just going up after them will draw the creatures out. Why use you as bait?” Blaze didn't answer, waiting for Rick to speak further. Instead, he held out a tiny origami dove to her he had fashioned from his gum wrapper. Blaze took the miniature dove, turning it over in her fingers. It was detailed and perfect. The petite wings jutted out proudly, as if it could fly anywhere. Saddened by the realization that it actually couldn't, Blaze looked up as the back door to the hangar slammed shut.

  Rick was gone.

  “When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.” Ursula K. LeGuin

  ~Twelve~

  Blaze watched the hangar fill with both spectators and those who had a vested interest in joining the Search and Rescue mission. From her chair toward the back of the building, she watched while coffee was made. Metal chair legs scraped the concrete floor of the hangar while obvious groups began segregating.

  The academics who had knowledge of the rescue through the Summit, arrived loudly and with a gaggle of assistants who were a part of their entourage. They did not appear to care they were being glared at by local citizens.

  Ren and Cindy entered the hangar, pausing long enough to scan the room and identify that Blaze was present. With a subtle nod from Ren, she watched as they took seats up front. She thought briefly about joining them but instead remained where she was. She wanted to see the participants entering the arena.

  Walker opened the door and scanned the crowd. Spotting Blaze, he made his way to her, weaving between people who were milling about. Lowering himself to the chair next to her, he leaned over.

  “All these people going?” Blaze shook her head. “I have no idea. It looks like they think they are.” She sat up straight when she saw Randall enter. Wearing a long, black tailored coat with a cobalt blue scarf, his heavy eyebrows concealed dark eyes. Blaze knew they were roving, like a wolf. Sensing her response, Walker followed the path of her eyes and observed Randall moving through the throng of people with a look of distaste. Someone immediately arrived with a cup of coffee, which he took dismissively. Leaning back, Walker sipped his own coffee. There was no need for him to pry and ask Blaze why she was tensing around the man. If she'd wanted to share she would.

  The hangar door blew open seconds later, revealing a robust woman dressed in a lime green pantsuit, which was much too tight, and short cropped hair that was spiked, still sporting snowflakes that had recently impaled themselves on the gray spires.

  Blaze watched as she danced and skipped toward a chair near Randall. She was wearing head phones. Stopping in front of her chair, she whirled bizarrely just next to him. Randall rubbed the bridge of his nose in an effort to avoid drawing her attention.

  ”Hopefully she's not leading the expedition,” Walker chuckled. Blaze nodded. The woman was like a train wreck, complete with casualties. As she finished dancing to the music which only she could hear, she pulled out a candy bar and thudded down next to Randall, her chair scraping the floor in protest. He scooted as far from her as the other chairs would permit.

  Behind Walker and Blaze, Gordon entered with his wife Norma, his grandsons, and a woman Blaze didn't recognize. It was clear she'd been crying however, and she looked about the hangar nervously, staying close to the Allens.

  As they all sat behind Blaze and Walker, Walker turned to exchange a few words with Gordon. Blaze turned and greeted Norma and her grandsons. As she did, Norma introduced her to her daughter, Bixley. “This is Shelby's mamma, Blaze. She arrived just last night.”

  Introducing herself, Blaze was certain if anyone asked an hour later about the meeting, the woman would draw a blank. It was obvious Bixley was in a panic over Shelby’s disappearance. She wanted to tell Bixley how grateful she was to her daughter for helping her, but it didn't seem appropriate at the moment.

  Hearing a mic cue up, Blaze turned and faced the wooden platform being used for the various speakers. Roy, head of Search and Rescue, was speaking with Pat and John. Blaze recognized them as riding with Gordon during the horseback contingency of the search. As the speakers mounted the small platform, Roy grabbed the mic, thinking it a couple of times to get everyone’s attention.

  Blaze recognized Chrissy and Gene. They entered quietly through the office door and moved to the back of the room. As people settled in their seats, Roy cleared his throat, and taking a clipboard from his wife, Andrea, held it up.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone. This all came together really fast. The agenda will be short and sweet; time is a factor, as you all know. Let’s get down to it. Please save your questions for the end.”

  Flipping a page on the clipboard, he frowned. “Most of you haven't met Ren and Cindy Auwlt,” he said, motioning them forward. “They’re the leaders of the recovery team. Come on up, please.”

  Both took the stage and thanked Roy. As they did, Judy Padna stood and turned to the crowd, waving an arm. “Hello everyone! I would like to introduce myself as well. I will be the lead of-” Randall stood abruptly, his chair clanking against the others. Tersely, he whispered something to the woman who continued a broad grin. Shooing him away, she beamed at the hangar full of bewildered faces.

  “I will be the lead Researcher for the gathering and testing of the Human-hybrid DNA while we are up on the mountain.”

  A man in the back stood up, removed his cowboy hat and pointed it toward Judy as he spoke. “You people are taking the likes of her up there for this-here rescue?”

  The crowd began responding to the man’s question, raising their voices. “Because if the rescue mission is in the hands of this city woman, then by God, the rest of us will form our own rescue. We've all known the Allen family a long time. I won’t stand by and watch this made into a joke,” the man continued.

  A woman near the front stood. “What is she talking about? Human-hybrid DNA? Would someone please explain to us what’s happening here?” Ren raised his hands and leaned in close to the mic. “I know everyone has an investment in this expedition. We don’t have a lot of time today. Miss Padna, please, if you would take a seat.”

  Smiling, ignor
ant to the tension she just caused, Judy sat down and waved Ren onward, as though offering him permission to proceed. Clearing his throat, Ren continued, placing effort in applying a calm tenor to his voice.

  “The simple fact is we can only take seven people up with us.”

  The room erupted into chaos. Several shouts came from the back and sides of the hangar as individuals tried all at once to voice their opinions. Ren raised his hands, trying to regain control. The shouting and yelling made it impossible for Blaze or anyone else to hear as he continued speaking. However, because he didn't stop speaking, it forced the citizens of Stryker, and the professionals attending the spectacle, to quiet down and listen.

  A man with dogs stood up and yelled that he'd brought his animals in from Eureka to assist with the rescue and recovery. Ren thanked him.

  “Fact is, tracking dogs won’t work up there. These creatures cannot be tracked in the traditional way. For reasons unknown to us at this time, dogs have proven to be intimidated by the scent of this creature. Thank you for your willingness to assist though. The dogs may be useful here in town.

  “And, as I was saying, we have room to take seven people only. This is an advanced rescue in a harsh climate. Those who are inexperienced will only be invited because of the critical information they will be lending us.”

  Another man stood up. “Those things are after all of us. Why has it taken so long for a special contingent to show up and help?” A few people murmured in agreement as they turned back to Ren. Confident, he raised his hands. “We can delve into that right now, or we can search for the missing. Which is it, people?”

  The room grew quiet again. Referring to the clipboard, Ren pulled a silver pen from his pocket. “When your name is called please stand up.” In the silence, Blaze felt her pulse quicken. It was a lottery she didn't want to participate in. The unknown dangers lurking ahead taunted her, stirring the inner monster which clawed at her scalp. Although she already knew her name would be called, it somehow hadn't felt real until she heard her name read from the platform. Standing slowly, she was met with myriad of responses. At least her name didn't illicit a riot. She exhaled slowly, allowing her shoulders to relax.

  “Jax Walker.” Jax stood up next to Blaze, nodding to a few of the men and women from under the brim of his cowboy hat.

  “Bixley Allen.” Blaze turned. Norma pushed her daughter upward, holding her hand as her adult daughter stood.

  “Gordon Allen.” Slowly, Gordon rose. He made eye contact with no one, as if he were measuring the moment. “Judy Padna.” The woman in the lime green jumpsuit stood up. Smiling, she turned and beamed toward the audience, waving inappropriately, as though she'd won a pageant.

  “Randall Sterling.” Amid a harsh reaction from the citizens of Stryker, Randall stood. Ren waited until the buzzing subsided and then motioned toward the back of the hangar. “And the seventh person joining us will be Rick Erickson. Rick, would you please join us up here? If the rest of you whose names have been called would please remain standing…”

  From the back of the hangar, Rick weaved through the chairs and spectators, jumping athletically onto the wood platform. Blaze narrowed her eyes. She felt her heart hammer in her chest. What was with this town and its omissions? He hadn't mentioned he would be going on the recovery mission during his mock interrogation/origami session.

  Rick took the mic from the stand and held it loosely in his grip. “Hello. I'm Rick Erickson. I will be Expedition Adviser. I have several expeditions under my belt, from Everest to Chogori, the second tallest mountain in the world. I will be training those who have been chosen. This is no small thing we are attempting to undertake. We have to move swiftly and concisely if we are to be effective in a recovery based in Wolf Canyon. It is isolated, and there are only two ways in, one if you're going on foot, horseback or ATV. That specific route is too dangerous for our team at this point for obvious reasons. We will be engaging in crash course training over the next three days, then taking a helicopter to the peak of Cold Cat, descending to Wolf Canyon through the ice stairs. It’s dangerous, but the trees would be more dangerous at this time. Thank you for your support, Stryker. We hope to resolve this situation as swiftly as possible.”

  Rick jumped down from the platform, moving to the coffee maker in the background. Blaze followed him with her eyes. Murmurs filled the hangar. Tension mounted and Ren once again spoke into the mic.

  “We will begin training in thirty minutes. If your name has not been called and you would like to confer about it, or you have an issue with your name being called, please see me immediately.”

  The crowd broke up, chairs were moved, and people gravitated towards those around them whose names had been called out. Another group began assisting in setting up food and tables for the buffet. Blaze turned toward Rick. He was speaking with Randall, their heads bent close together. Turning back to speak with Walker, she saw him rushing out the door, speaking swiftly into his radio.

  “I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street...”

  --Robert Frost

  ~Thirteen~

  As everyone lined up to fill plates for the quick lunch hosted by the Cafe, their voices mingled and utensils clicked as they waited. The meal had allowed calm to return and the crowd chatted patiently. The lighting outside the hangar had not changed, and the snowfall steadily increased. Occasional slight shifts in the wind pushed and moved the light powder to and fro upon the cold ground. The fluorescent lighting of the hangar offered a sallow brightness as it cloaked the room. Blaze smiled as she listened to a woman describe how she had made the lemon chicken from the cafe, adding fresh lemon zest to the recipe on her own. The normalcy of the moment warmed her. A man offered to carry his wife's plate and they smiled as they passed Blaze.

  When the town’s sirens issued a shrill warning from beyond the hangar walls, silence cloaked the interior and no one moved. Blaze felt her hands start to shake and she tried to steady the paper plate she held. Finally, impact of the shrill sounding alarms created full awareness. Loud voices and chaos erupted within the hangar. Most of the men were already armed, as were several women. It was a sight Blaze was accustomed to. Then, just as quickly as the sirens started, they stopped.

  Part of the crowd, Blaze surged forward with the rest of the town’s citizens pushing through the open door. Parked just a few feet away was Walker. He was standing in the open door of his SUV, holding a CB mic. He waited until everyone had exited the building and then raised the mic, speaking quickly. His voice was tinged with a dark edge.

  “Everyone, please do not speakjust listen. And please, remain silent no matter what you hear.”

  In the falling snow, the town’s citizens unconsciously drew tightly in together, near the hangar, waiting. Walker leaned against the open door of his vehicle and adjusted his hat, unclipped his weapon, and waited. Snow flurries drifted downward in the silence of the moment, as the crowd tensed, ears straining to identify the source of Walkers tension.

  Seconds ticked by and nothing was heard as trees swayed tentatively in the early winter wind, green tops bowing to the right and left as the falling snow changed directions with the shifting high mountain climate.

  Still no sound. Those gathered outside the hangar continued straining to hear what the Sheriff was referring to; they remained close to one another, eyes trained on the mountains surrounding them.

  A guttural scream pierced the air and Blaze felt her knees weaken. It was hoarse and savage, followed by a cry of pain that was instantly recognizable as it echoed from the mountains around the town. Matilda was screaming. The rasp of her voice was made more throaty from the high pitch in which she cried out.

  “Blaze!” She screamed out for help from somewhere unknown. Without thought, Blaze was suddenly running; running before she knew she had even moved her feet. A surge of adrenaline propelled her forward. The woods out behind the hangar where Matilda had last been seen a
live were not far. Blaze felt the cold air searing through her lungs. She screamed for Matilda as she ran and Matilda cried out twice more for her.

  “Blaze, help me! Blaze!” Blaze reached the snow covered slope that led to the edge of the tree line but was brought to a skidding halt, falling to the ground, her arms trapped at her sides in a sudden force of blunt impact. She fought back against whatever had prevented her access to the tree line. Snow worked its way up her jacket and down inside her collar. Thrashing to free her arm, she felt a warm hand press down over her mouth.

  Looking up, she came face to face with Rick. He pulled her close like a football, and held her in silence. Her heart beat so loudly she could hear nothing else at first. As she lay silently in the snow trying to assess why Rick had prevented her attempt to help Matilda, her rational brain slowly took hold, reshaping what was happening around her.

  That was when she heard the first shrill scream. It was closely followed by another. And then the screaming engulfed the small town of Stryker from all directions until every citizen froze where they stood in a primal paralyzed state. Men and women alike were seized in the terror of the moment, hearing something foreign to their ears, but not necessarily to their DNA.

  Carefully, Rick removed his hand from Blaze's mouth and pulled her backwards through the snow, toward the safety of the hangar.

  Both Cindy and Ren pushed forward through the crowd. Eyes narrowed, Cindy held her weapon carefully, skillfully. There was no specific location in which one could decisively shoot.

  Ren turned in a slow circle, both hands steady on his handgun. Walker remained alert, tensed at the edge of the department’s SUV with his rifle balanced across the hood. He looked through the scope, shaking his head toward Ren and Cindy.