He moved in front of the flap. “Hey, Grace. Thought I recognized your tent.”
The walls fluttered. Breeze dangled his arms and forced a grin.
Easy now. Don’t frighten her.
The zipper lowered. A hand emerged that could have been from a lumberjack axe advertisement, with fingers the size of hot dogs and dark hair sprouting from the knuckles.
“You’ve got the wrong tent.”
A face appeared through the opening. Long, unwashed black hair framed a broad face where a disheveled beard crawled up to two steely blue eyes. They peered at Breeze from above a nose that evidenced a history of breaks.
Breeze stared.
“Man, I thought…your tent looked like…I mean, I was looking for…” Breeze waved both hands apologetically. “Go back to sleep and forget it.”
“Sure thing.” The man withdrew. The zipper closed. Breeze stood alone.
What was I thinking? Why would that be her tent? How much time did I just waste?
He jogged back to the trail. In the quickly fading light he sprinted ahead, stopping only when he reached a junction with a side trail.
Would she take it to throw me off? Is she waiting until I pass?
He scanned the branch trail with a calculating eye.
No. She’ll stick to the PCT. That’s what she knows.
He continued running.
Chapter 26
Grace pushed harder. The person behind her was gaining.
Wooden bridge planks clattered as she roared across the stream. She reached the middle and started as the boards rattled to the beat of a second set of footsteps. Grace glanced over her shoulder.
Breeze.
He lunged and grabbed her pack.
She jerked to a stop. “Let me go.”
He held on tight. She undid her waist belt. Before she could drop her pack, he yanked her against the rails. Large hands pinned her wrists. Long legs straddled hers.
Their eyes locked. Breeze’s cuts and bruises hovered at the edge of her peripheral vision.
He killed him.
Grace’s legs trembled. Her hands clutched a rail. She looked beyond Breeze at the rushing water of the creek.
“Why were you running?” Breeze’s breath smelled of old alcohol.
She turned her head away. “I could ask you the same question.”
“I saw you and wanted to catch up. Kind of like that first time we met. Remember? When you took that tumble down the mountain?”
The cool evening air caught in Grace’s lungs. “I remember.”
“Good.” Breeze released her hands. The wooden slats of the bridge creaked as he took a step back. “I wanted to see if you want to hike together for a bit. Like we used to.”
Grace scrutinized his face.
He’s lying.
“I’d rather hike by myself. Like you used to. And, anyway, I’ve got some friends up ahead. They’ll come back if I don’t catch up soon.”
She pushed off and started for the far end of the bridge.
Breeze siezed her wrist. The touch of his fingers made her shudder. She tried to disengage. He held on tighter.
“Okay, look. I don’t know what you saw back there at the river. But it wasn’t what you think.”
Her head tilted defiantly upward. “So what was it?”
Breeze tugged her closer. She resisted by dragging her feet along the planks. He shot her a look.
“Help…” His free hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to bite his fingers but her teeth couldn’t gain leverage. With an arm around her neck, Breeze dragged her off the bridge and into a recess behind some adjacent boulders. He forced her back against the stone.
“Don’t get any ideas. You don’t have any friends out there. Now, what did you see out there by the river?”
She squared her shoulders. “I saw you holding Stoli under the water. And I’m not the only one who knows. I called the police. I told them what I saw. They’re coming to get you.”
He nodded toward her pack. “So give me your cell phone. Let me look at the calls you made. Put down your pack. Then reach inside and hand it over.”
Grace lowered her pack. She dug through it slowly.
What do I have that’s sharp?
Her fingers roamed through the contents.
Tent stakes? But they’re at the bottom, in a stuff sack.
Kenji’s key felt cool against her skin. It was fastened to her first aid kit. She quickly undid the twist tie, palmed the key, and pulled out the baggie with the phone.
Breeze laughed when he saw the disassembled parts. “You didn’t call with that thing.”
“I tried.”
“Uh huh. But I’m guessing you didn’t get far. No California state patrol after all.” He leaned forward. “So let me tell you what’s going to happen. You and I will hike to VVR. On the way, we’re going to play boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Never.”
Breeze yanked her arm. “Shut up and listen. We’re going to pretend. That’s all. In case we meet anybody. Now, see this?” Breeze drew a five-inch survival knife from the waist belt of his pack. “If you say one word, or if you even hint at anything, I’ll use it. And don’t play the hero. I won’t go after you. I’ll hurt anybody you try to tell.”
The blood drained from Grace’s face.
Breeze leered. “I see you understand.”
“What’s the plan when we get to VVR?”
“We catch a ride with a nice stranger who wants to help a young couple get to Fresno. Then you rent a car for us.”
“And then?”
“None of your business.”
Grace looked at the dusty ground. “So is it my business why you killed him?”
Breeze’s eyes darkened. “You think I killed Jerry?”
“Who’s Jerry?”
“Stoli. Jerry Kriebel. They guy at the river. You’re saying I killed him? Well, maybe I did. I’m not saying I did.” His eyes bounced erratically from her to the rocks around them. “But if I did, that bastard had it coming. Someday, if you get back to San Francisco, look up a bicycle accident. Last year on Mount Tam. On May seventh. It’s all over the Internet. Little girl run off the road. He ran her over, and then he ran away from the police. He ran all the way to fucking LA.”
Breeze’s eyes flicked back and forth. His grip on Grace’s arm slackened. She kept her gaze on him but braced her feet, ready to run.
“So what happened to me? My son of a bitch mechanic posts all over the Web, says I’m the one who ran her down. The police believe it, and so do all my customers. My bike shop was the best in Oakland. Six months later it was a ghost town. I lost everything. Meanwhile, Jerry’s in LA getting wasted.” Breeze’s eyes clouded completely. His face wore a haunted expression. He dropped Grace’s hand to scratch his forehead.
Grace pushed past him and charged up the trail, screaming for help.
Breeze tore after her and caught the back of her shirt. He wrenched. She turned. The key flashed between her fingers, a jagged point jutting at her assailant. She aimed for his face. And punched.
He blocked it and smacked the side of her head with a backhanded blow, opening a cut above her temple. She fell forward and the key bounced into the brush.
Breeze pulled her back toward the recess. She relaxed her body, willing its dead weight to slow him down, but the rocky surface provided no grip. Branches cut her hands as she grabbed passing tree limbs.
“Bitch.” He whipped his knife from its sheath and waved the blade, his face red and distorted with fury. “You try that again and you’re the one who’s going to feel it. If anyone hears you scream, I’ll take them out too. No more goddamn loose ends.”
Grace felt suddenly nauseous.
I can’t let him get to me. Or I’ll never get away. I’ll take another chance if he gives me one. In the meantime, I can’t let him beat me down.
Breeze gestured with his knife to Grace’s pack. She put it on. Sweat ran down her brow and she wiped it. Her hand cam
e away red.
“Hey. Don’t you think that whole boyfriend-girlfriend routine will look suspicious if I’m bleeding like an amputee?”
Breeze focused on the blood. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Funny. You caused it. Seems like you should know what to do.”
“I’m no medic.”
Grace sighed, deposited her pack, and loosened a small hiker towel from the compression straps. She applied pressure to the wound, but each time she removed the towel, the bleeding started again.
He waved the knife near her throat. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Give me a minute.” Grace ignored the threat and explored her pack, resurfacing with her first aid kit.
“Let me see that.” She handed him the package.
“Open your hands.”
“I’m not palming anything.”
He threw the kit back at her. She rubbed an iodine pad over the cut and held a piece of gauze to her head. “You’ll have to help. Hold this in place. I’ll put on the tape.”
He offered one hand but kept the other on his knife hilt. When she finished, she regarded him carefully. He was breathing heavily.
If I get away, it’ll be because I outsmart him. A level head’s the one thing he hasn’t got.
She stepped from their hiding place. Breeze followed. They both scanned the area. The trail was empty.
Grace’s hiking poles lay where she’d dropped them on the bridge, one against the bottom railing, the other hanging by its strap over the water. She picked them up and started to wrap the straps around her wrists, but Breeze snatched them from her.
“I’ll take those.” He loosened the joints, collapsed the poles, and stuffed them into his pack. “Get going. And don’t get any ideas. I call the shots.”
Chapter 27
The night was clear. A brilliant full moon competed with sparkling stars. A smile almost broke through Grace’s scared expression when she glanced up.
Hikers out here are looking at the same sky. I only have to find them.
She skidded on some rocks. “Hey. That’s about the fifth time I almost fell. Will you finally let me get my headlamp out? I could break something out here.”
“Fine. I’ll get it out if it will speed you up. We’ll never get to VVR at this rate. Turn around.”
“It’s on top.”
He pulled it out and handed it to her. “Turn it on. Then I’ll see who’s coming. Don’t do anything stupid.”
They followed the river, hiking past Aspen Meadow and into the tall firs beyond. Grace listened to the crunch of her footsteps on the sandy path and the clomping of Breeze’s large boots behind her. She swung her headlamp back and forth and scanned the trail ahead for hikers. Trunks of trees and low hanging branches created a tunnel of light. Grace slowed.
A hiker?
Breeze saw the figure too and took her hand. She jerked it away before thinking. He jabbed the knife hilt into her ribs and reclaimed her hand.
“Easy there, honey. Don’t want anyone to get hurt. We’re just a pair of lovers out for a midnight stroll. The less said, the better.”
Grace nodded. She took off her headlamp and pointed it toward the river as a figure approached.
“Hi there.” A young man fidgeted with his hiking poles, poking them nervously into the ground. “Thanks for not blinding me. Are you two heading to Canada?”
“That’s our goal.” Breeze held up Grace’s hand like a trophy. “We’re going to make it together or not at all, right, honey?”
Grace nodded. “Right. How about you?”
The youth shrugged his narrow shoulders and fiddled with his pack straps. “Section hiking the John Muir Trail. The campsites aren’t much farther, right?” He looked to Breeze.
He’s a newbie, Grace thought. He’s scared. But he’d feel even worse if he knew whose advice he was asking.
“Not far.” Breeze pointed. “There’s a bunch up the trail.”
“Thanks. I probably sound like a wimp. But I hate hiking alone, especially in the dark.”
“You don’t have a headlamp?” Grace’s eyes contracted.
“No.” He stood more erect but looked as though the effort depleted him. “I wasn’t planning on hiking at night. It took longer than I thought to get this far.”
Grace laid a hand on Breeze’s arm. She forced her voice up an octave. “Why don’t we give him our headlamp, darling? We can always buy another at VVR. We don’t need it. The moon’s so bright.”
“I couldn’t take your only light. You must need it. I’ll be fine.” But his voice quavered.
Grace saw anger sparkle in Breeze’s eyes. She forged ahead.
“Sweetie, you know we hardly use it. And you’re always saying how you love the moonlight.” She held out the lamp to the youth.
“We might need it later.” Breeze tried to snatch it back.
Grace moved it out of his reach. “Now, dear, you don’t want to cause a scene. It’s only a headlamp. This guy is going to remember you forever if you don’t give it to him now.” She pressed the light into the young man’s outstretched hands.
The hiker looked from her to Breeze and back again. “If you’re sure.”
Breeze nodded slowly.
The man strapped the light to his forehead. “I appreciate this.” He hurried off the way Breeze and Grace had come.
They watched his bouncing light until he was out of earshot. Then Breeze rounded on her, his face glowing even in the sparse light. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” He shook her shoulders. “What was all that? Why’d you make me give him the light?”
“I thought he might tag along with us if I didn’t.”
“Why would he come with us? He’s going the opposite direction, for Christ’s sake.”
“Because I could see it in his face. He was scared. He wanted company.” She held her index finger and thumb an inch apart. “He was this close to asking us if he could hike with us. The only way to get him to leave was to give him something to take away his fear.”
Breeze’s face registered indecision.
He doesn’t know whether to believe me or punch me.
After a few moments, Breeze dropped his eyes. “Don’t do anything like that again. From now on, I do all the talking.”
Grace nodded.
His voice sounds strained. If I can keep him off balance, I might have a chance.
They continued north, Breeze close on Grace’s heels. But minute by minute, she heard the rhythm of his footsteps change. Before, his boots pounded behind her with a regular clomp, clomp. Now he increasingly favored one foot over the other, clomp, thud, clomp, thud. After half an hour, he told her to stop.
“My feet are killing me. Especially the left one. I think I have blisters.”
They stood before the steel bridge over Piute Creek. Breeze gestured to some rocks. Grace sat beside him while he removed his boots.
“I wish I had a fucking headlamp.” He glowered at Grace, who repressed a smile. He lit a match. The flash revealed two large blisters on the heel of his right foot. His left heel sported a trio of thumb-size, fluid-filled sacks. “Do you have any moleskin?”
“Not much. I don’t get blisters anymore. I have a little for emergencies.”
“Well, this is a goddamned emergency. Get out what you got. And don’t think of doing anything stupid. You won’t get far. I can run faster in bare feet than I can in these lousy boots.” He looked at Grace and reconsidered. “As a matter of fact, take off your shoes and give them to me. Just to be sure.”
Grace pulled off her shoes and handed them to him. “What else do you want? My shirt?”
Breeze grunted. He sterilized the tip of his knife with matches and, with one eye on Grace, burned himself twice. Then he popped the blisters and applied the shreds of her limited moleskin supply.
The night sky glowed with the radiance of the moon. A dense blanket of white stars shone outside its halo.
What about Lone Star
? Where is he tonight?
Breeze cocked his head. “There’s somebody coming from behind.”
Grace listened. Sounds of two pairs of feet walking at a brisk pace drifted toward her. Breeze blew out his match and put his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened. Breeze leaned in.
“Remember, I talk, or those two won’t make it out of here.”
The headlamps of two hikers lit the path until they stopped in front of them. Grace drew in her breath. One of them was Beartrap.
“How you doing?” Breeze raised a hand in greeting. “Nice night for a stroll.”
“Yep.” Beartrap’s eyes swept quickly over Grace’s bandage, Breeze’s cuts, and their bare feet. “Everything all right here?”
“My cutie’s helping me take care of a couple of blisters.” Breeze held up a foot for inspection.
“Looks rough.” Beartrap’s companion leaned in close. He pulled his auburn hair behind his ears to get a better look. “You want some more moleskin? I have extra.”
“I sure could use it.” Breeze unwrapped his arm from around Grace.
The second man put down his pack. His arm disappeared and his tanned face assumed an abstracted expression. “You know, there are lots of different kinds of moleskin. Some are better than others.”
Breeze peered at him from under a furrowed brow.
The man’s hand emerged with a parcel the size of a soda can. “All moleskin. Let me explain what I mean…” Breeze’s eyes grew wider as he listened to a dissertation on blister care.
Beartrap winked at Grace.
She glanced at Breeze, who was absorbed in doctoring his foot.
Beartrap raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Are you really with this guy?”
Grace pressed her lips together and shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah. It was Mike’s Roadhouse Café in Mojave, wasn’t it?”
“Wow. What a memory. I sometimes can’t remember the name of my last resupply town.”
“Mind’s like a steel wastebasket.” Beartrap tapped his forehead. “But it’s limited to trail things. Off the trail, I can hardly remember my own name.”
Grace looked again at Breeze and the other man absorbed in applying multiple moleskin layers.
Wild Within (Wild at Heart #1) Page 17