Survive the Night

by Katie Ruggle

  “I don’t think he took my advice,” Hugh said as he headed for the driver’s seat.

  With another snort of laughter, Kit rounded the car and climbed in on the other side. “He just needs to learn these life lessons for himself, I think.”

  Even as her laughter faded, her smile remained. Their banter, as silly as it was, lit a spark of hope that she could find that same sense of comradery that she’d had at her last department. Her move to a desolate, post-apocalyptic-esque deathscape might have been a good idea, after all.

  Glancing out the window, she took in the first responders clustered around the human remains inside the burned shell of what used to be a house, and she grimaced. Or maybe not.

  Chapter 6

  As Hugh pulled away, Kit’s hands twitched, and she clasped them together in her lap. She was too much of a control freak to be a good passenger and would much rather be driving, but she was going to have to suck it up until her probationary training period was over and she could start making the decisions again. She couldn’t wait.

  “Get the chief to set you up with all of your equipment.” Hugh turned east onto the main road running through town. “If you’re going on calls, you need gear as well as a vehicle. It’s not safe for you to be on your own without a radio, and you’ll need ID.”

  “I will.” The thought of having a radio again made relief spread through her until the rest of Hugh’s words registered. “I’m going to be on my own?” Since she’d only worked at one other department, she’d only gone through the probationary training process once, but she didn’t remember being let loose by herself for at least a month. She wasn’t sure if Hugh’s plan to let her fly solo on her first day was a good sign or a bad one.

  As if he could hear her reservations, Hugh gave her a sideways smirk. “Nothing dangerous. You’ll be taking witness statements.”

  “What will you be doing while I’m knocking on the neighbors’ doors?” she asked, a little wary of this plan.

  He offered her a look of innocence that only made her suspicions deepen. “Other stuff related to the case. The state investigators are going to be helping, but we’re still short-handed for a major case like this. If we split up, we’ll cover more ground.”

  Although she couldn’t argue with that logic, she had a feeling that Hugh had an ulterior motive, one that involved keeping her at the periphery of this investigation. The amount of suspicion her new partners had for her seemed extreme, even for an insular, small-town force. She wondered what the reason for that was as Hugh pulled up into the small lot by the station.

  Instead of getting out, Hugh looked at her expectantly. “I let the chief know I was dropping you off. He’ll be here in just a bit to get you set up with equipment and a car.”

  “Why the chief?” She opened the door but didn’t get out. “Isn’t there a sergeant or lieutenant on duty?”

  His mouth tightened like it did when his leg was bothering him, even though he hadn’t moved it. “Not right now.”

  “Is that a winter thing or a small town thing?” At her old department, Kit had hardly ever even gotten glimpses of the chief. It seemed strange to have him so involved in such minor stuff.

  “Neither.” His frown deepened, and he stared through the windshield, looking more furious than she’d seen him so far. “It’s what happens when your lieutenant turns out to be a back-stabbing criminal.”

  “Oh.” She blinked, unsure how to respond. This job was not at all what she expected. “Sorry to hear that. Um…thanks for the ride.” Feeling awkward, she hopped out of the car and got Justice out of the back seat. He was reluctant to leave Lexi, but obeyed when Kit ordered him out. “I’ll let you know if I have any luck finding a witness.”

  As she closed the back door, Hugh rolled down the front passenger window and studied her for a moment, his unhappy expression fading with the change of subject. “You have your personal gun?”

  “Yes.” She felt the reassuring weight of her Glock where it rested in its holster in the small of her back, under her coat. Until she was in uniform, she preferred to have her weapon concealed, rather than on her hip, since people tended to get a bit antsy at what would appear to be a civilian open-carrying.

  “Good,” he said casually. “Be careful. Some people around here tend to be…nervous when strangers knock on their doors, and pretty much everyone owns at least one gun.” With that unnerving advice, he rolled up the window.

  Kit stared at the back of the squad car as it did a three-point turn and then took off the way they’d just come.

  “Seriously?” she grumbled under her breath. Justice cocked his head at the sound of her voice. “All my witnesses are armed and paranoid? What kind of hell hole is this?”

  When Justice didn’t answer, Kit sighed and headed into the station, reminding herself that at least she’d be getting a radio.

  “Have to look on the bright side of things,” she said.

  Justice thumped his tail against her legs, making her smile. She wished she had even half of her dog’s optimism. For Justice, every side was sunny.

  * * *

  Climbing back into the pickup, Kit slammed the door a little too firmly, waking up Justice. He lifted his head from where it’d been resting on the center console and thumped his tail against the door. The dog was riding on the passenger seat next to her, since the area behind the front seats was filled with stacked cages. The truck was a loaner from the sheriff’s department’s animal control unit. Justice liked it, since he had a better view out the front windshield and had discovered a stash of dog treats in the passenger-door pocket. Kit, however, was less enthusiastic, since the cab smelled like a musty mixture of wet dog, animal urine, and—oddly enough—skunk.

  Blowing out a breath, she struggled to regain her sense of humor as she turned the radio to a non-emergency channel and rattled off Hugh’s unit number into the mic.

  “Go ahead, greenie.”

  She rolled her eyes, glad that her PT officer couldn’t see her. “I’ve finished canvassing the area. What do you need me to work on next?”

  “Any luck?”

  It didn’t really surprise her that Hugh took radio etiquette as casually as he seemed to treat everything else. “Negative. Only one house had someone in residence, and she was in Denver until a half hour ago.” Even so, it had been a rough few hours. With Hugh’s warning niggling at the back of her mind every time Kit knocked on a door, she’d been tense since the chief had sent her out in her borrowed, smelly truck and an MPD ID on a lanyard hanging around her neck. She was antsy to join the other cops and see what leads they were following. “Anything on your end?”

  There was a slight pause that Kit wasn’t sure how to interpret before Hugh spoke again. “Not really. Have you checked the houses all the way to Dry Creek Road?”

  Kit frowned as she examined the GPS map on the laptop screen attached to the dash. Dry Creek Road was about four blocks to the north. There was no way that any of the residents who lived in that area could’ve gotten a glimpse of what had happened at the burned house. Reminding herself that she’d just started working there, she kept it simple. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Go ahead and do that. Maybe someone saw a strange car in the area.”

  Kit swallowed her protest that it would be a waste of time, since she had a feeling that arguing would be futile. “Has anyone interviewed the complainant yet?”

  There was another pause. “Wes? No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  She gave the mic a bewildered look, happy again that he couldn’t see her expression. “In case he saw something. Isn’t it pretty standard to interview the complainant?” Although she’d known there was going to be differing styles of policing, this seemed like an obvious requirement.

  “No need.” Apparently it isn’t so obvious, Kit thought as he continued, sounding a bit too blasé about the entire thing. “If he’d see
n anything more than the smoke, he would’ve shared it. Let me know if you find anything on your canvass.”

  It was Kit’s turn to be silent for a moment as she worked things through in her head. Sure, this was a new department with different rules and ways of doing things, but good policing was good policing. She’d been a cop long enough to know how to investigate a serious crime, and there was no way she was going to skip over such a crucial step, even if it wasn’t likely to lead to much. She didn’t want to argue about it with her supervisor over the radio, however, so she kept her thoughts to herself, answering with a simple “copy” before she replaced the mic.

  “What should we do on our lunch break, Justice? What was that? Interview the complainant in a possible murder and arson case? Why, that’s an excellent idea.” A simple internet search of the closest forest service fire-lookout tower gave her an address, and she typed it into the MTCs GPS program. When Justice shifted, drawing her attention away from the computer screen, she smiled at him. “First day, and we’re already rebels.”

  He thumped his tail against the seat in solidarity.

  Following the directions, Kit took the main street west. As she left town and the road turned into a state highway, she divided her attention between driving, the directions, and the scenery. It still startled her how beautiful it was, with a layer of snow softening the vertical cliff’s rough edges. It had a more severe and rugged look than it had when she’d first visited in late summer, but it was wonderful, just the same.

  As she wove through the switchbacks, she made a mental note of each person’s driveway or mailbox along the way. The sooner she knew her way around, the sooner everything would be easier. A couple of cars passed her on the highway, but once she turned at the GPS’s urging, the traffic immediately thinned dramatically…to just Kit’s smelly county truck.

  The emptiness started to make her twitchy, and she glanced over to Justice’s welcome shape next to her. The road she was on narrowed, the banks of snow on either side of her getting bigger and more intimidating with each second. Her trip into town that morning had been a piece of cake compared to the narrow, twisting lane she was driving on now. The GPS showed that she had a turn coming up, but she couldn’t see any street signs. Slowing to a crawl, she spotted tire tracks in the snow turning to the right.

  “Is this it?” she muttered, almost coming to a complete stop as she looked between the map on the screen and the ruts in the unplowed snow. “Guess so.” Justice, who’d sat up at the sound of her voice, looked out the window as Kit made a sharp turn onto what the map promised was a road.

  The rear wheels of the pickup slid and spun as she turned, and her fingers clutched the steering wheel too tightly. Kit knew how to drive in snow, but that was back in the Midwest, where everything was fairly flat and a too-tight turn wouldn’t throw her off the mountainside.

  She laughed at herself, but it came out sounding stiff and harsh. “They actually plow roads in Wisconsin, too.” Justice glanced at her and then returned to watching out the window. Kit focused on staying in the ruts another vehicle had made. If she had to call for help after getting stuck in a drift while using her lunch break to drive somewhere that Hugh had strongly suggested not to go, the other cops were never going to let her live it down.

  The trail narrowed as it entered the trees, and Kit’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The heavy evergreen branches filtered the sunlight, dimming it and turning it into an eerie green. Between the curvy road and the thick forestation, she couldn’t see what was coming, and she slowed the truck to a crawl. At least one vehicle had gone this way earlier, which meant that there could be an oncoming car right around the next turn. With the trees lining the narrow trail, there’d be no room to get out of the way.

  Except for the scritching sound of the pine branches brushing the sides of the truck and the soft hum of the engine, everything was quiet. She glanced at the radio display, making sure it was turned on and that she was scanning all the channels. Everything was as it should be. There just wasn’t much radio traffic. The absence of the normal chatter made her feel very much alone.

  Jumping to his feet, Justice gave a loud, baying bark, and the sudden sound made Kit jerk the wheel slightly. She quickly corrected, lining up the truck’s tires with the existing tracks again, before bringing the vehicle to a stop.

  “What’s up, Justice?” she asked, leaning over to peer out of his window. She couldn’t see any sign of what had caught his attention from that angle, so she shifted into Park and got out. The silence seemed even thicker outside the truck. Pressing away the uneasy feeling, she circled the front of the truck, scanning the area for the cause of Justice’s alert.

  As she reached the passenger side, she spotted a flash of red on the snow. She stepped closer to examine the spots. They were a vivid scarlet against the pristine white, and she tensed.

  It was blood, and it was fresh.

  Chapter 7

  If the blood had been there for longer than a minute or so, it would’ve frozen, leaving it a dull, orangey red. She wondered if it was from an animal, and checked around the area for any tracks. The few dots of blood led to larger blotches in the snow and then an arc of what appeared to be arterial spray. Her stomach tightened with each new sighting, and she went still as she spotted a trail of prints—boot prints. Her head jerked up as she peered through the trees, mentally cursing the dim light and the shadows that made it too easy for something to hide.

  Keeping her eyes on her surroundings, she opened the door and found Justice’s lead by feel. The dog squirmed in excitement as she latched the leash onto the first hook on his harness. After grabbing her new portable radio, she gave him the command to hop out of the truck. Justice immediately snuffled at the blood.

  “Justice, find.” She kept her voice low and her gaze focused forward. There were a hundred non-criminal explanations for the blood and the boot prints, but the strange and eerie silence of her surroundings had her on high-alert. It didn’t help that she hadn’t even been in town for a day, and there’d already been a probable arson and murder, but the situation wasn’t enough to call for backup, she decided. She slid her radio into her coat pocket.

  The hound bayed, the sound echoing around them, and Kit flinched. So much for staying quiet, she thought, following Justice as he plunged into the forest. He barked again, the sound drawn out to a howl at the end, and Kit spotted movement ahead of them through the trees. She ran faster, allowing Justice to tow her forward, and the motion came again, along with a flash of bright orange that she’d never seen in nature. As Justice scrambled over a downed tree and circled a small grove of aspen, she was forced to keep her eyes on her footing. When she looked up again, a man stood just thirty feet away. She jerked to a halt, forcing Justice to stop as well.

  The man looked to be in his early twenties, and Kit automatically cataloged his features in case she had to describe him later—or find a match in a photo line-up. He stared at her, and Kit felt a chill touch her spine. Her attention fixed on the knife hanging from his belt and the streaks of dark red that stained his coveralls and hands.

  He’s probably out here hunting, Kit told herself, but there was something chilling about his dead-eyed expression—something threatening. She took a breath, about to ask him about the blood. Before she could say a word, he turned and ran.

  “Stop!” she shouted, resuming her pursuit. “Police!”

  The man ignored the command, speeding up instead. Even if he hadn’t done anything illegal, he was still running from her when she’d clearly identified herself as law enforcement. That was enough reasonable suspicion for her to continue to chase him. Justice bayed, caught up in the excitement of the chase, and Kit sprinted behind him. The adrenaline already had her heart pumping, and her lungs were hungering for oxygen, but she kept running. Branches whipped across her, scratching her face and catching on her clothes. The ground was rocky and covered in
patchy snow, hiding bits of ice that made her slip every few strides. She managed to stay upright, but she worried with every slick patch that it might be the one to bring her down.

  The person in front of her moved easily, as if he was accustomed to running through these woods. The trees grew thicker, blocking out most of the sun. It painted strange shapes on the ground, making it hard to tell what was an obstacle and what was merely a shadow. Despite the treacherous footing, Kit pushed her feet to move faster, and Justice happily picked up the pace when the lead slackened.

  “Police! Stop!” she yelled again, hating how winded she sounded. She was used to pavement and manicured lawns, not this snowy wilderness. The only sounds she could hear were her own rasping breaths, the crunch of snow under her boots, and the swish of her coat as her arms pumped at her sides. Despite Justice’s presence, the silent, towering pines made her feel small and alone, knowing that backup was miles away. It was up to her to keep herself—and her dog—alive. Shaking off her dark thoughts, she called out again. “Stop! Police!”

  The runner didn’t listen. As Kit dodged around a squat pine, the trees thinned, the forest opening up to a flat rock shelf that abruptly ended, the edge falling off into a deep gorge. On the opposite side of the crevasse, a steep cliff rose from the valley. The man was nowhere in sight.

  Justice ran full speed toward the cliff edge. Sucking in a scream, Kit immediately put on the brakes. Her boots slid on the rocky ground, bits of shale and grit rolling like ball bearings under her soles as she neared the edge of the drop-off. Her jaw clamped shut as she grabbed a nearby tree branch, coming to a stuttering halt right before the edge of the cliff.

  She hauled on the lead, but she was too late. Justice’s momentum carried him over the edge. Wrapping the lead around her arm, she held tight to the branch as she waited for over a hundred pounds of falling dog to drag her over the cliff with him. Even if his harness or lead didn’t snap, there was no way she could keep him from falling when he weighed almost as much as she did. Clenching her molars together until her jaw ached, she braced for him to hit the end of his lead, for the jolt and her dog’s sharp yelp of pain.