by Harley Tate
Madison knew Brianna was right, but the thought of leaving Eileen alive tore at her insides. She would be mounting an attack on the Cliftons’ place as soon as the sun rose. How could they leave her to do it?
The sentry on the ground moaned and Brianna tugged harder on Madison’s arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Brianna dragged Madison away from the camp and into the cover of the woods. A hundred yards from the fire, she pulled her arm free. “How far away are we?”
“About five miles, give or take. There’s a gulley in between, but no other natural defenses.”
“Would we have seen them coming if they attacked?”
Brianna shook her head. “Not from this direction.”
Everything Madison feared was coming true. There were no safe spaces anymore. No places she could let her guard down and just live. Was all of that a fantasy constructed by light bulbs and alarm systems? Was anywhere truly safe before the grid failed, or were people always this ruthless?
A shout sounded back at the camp and Brianna grabbed her arm. “Run!”
Together they bounded into the forest, using the little moonlight that filtered through the trees to see. Flashlights clicked on in the distance behind them, bouncing little orbs of light in every direction.
“If they catch us, we’re toast.” Brianna picked up the pace and Madison struggled to keep up.
Leaves and branches slapped her in the face and rocks and roots tripped up her feet. She stumbled again and again, barely staying upright as she ran. Her head pounded from the beating she took that morning and her vision dimmed.
Shouts behind them grew louder and more desperate. Madison wasn’t sure she could run five miles. She wasn’t sure she could run another step. The forest went on forever. Over and over, her feet thudded on the ground, every step closer to their destination.
Home. I’m trying to go home. Visions of Sacramento and the little house her parents used to own filled her mind, followed by flames and gunshots and ashes and soot. Home was gone. Madison would never see it again.
“Brianna, I—” It was Brianna’s home they needed to find; the Clifton cabin. Their mothers and Peyton and the future.
Madison staggered and leaves rose up to meet her. Cold air battered her face. Twigs scratched her hands.
“Keep going. We can’t stop!” Brianna’s voice cut through the fog and Madison dragged herself out of the dirt. She tried to follow, but the pounding in her head only grew louder and louder until all she could hear was the relentless rhythm. Her legs wobbled and knees sank again. Her fingers pierced the forest floor, diving beneath the leaves to the soft earth.
“Brianna…” Her shout came out in a whisper. Her body sagged toward the ground. She couldn’t go on. The pain in her head threatened to drive her mad. How could anyone live like this?
“Madison!” Hands reached under her arms and tried to haul her up by the armpits. She sagged against the struggle.
“Madison, get up! They’re coming.” Brianna tugged on her again. “We can hide, but you have to move!”
The fear in Brianna’s voice broke through the confusion and Madison struggled to stand. Brianna looped an arm around her middle and half-walked, half-carried her forward.
Time slowed. The night grew darker while flashes of color swam in front of her eyes. “I’m going to pass out.”
“Just hold on.”
The dirt loomed up again, but this time Madison didn’t fall into it. Instead, Brianna eased her toward the ground. Her back wedged against a rock. Leaves whipped her face.
“Stay low. Pull your jacket over your head.” Rustling sounded beside her and Brianna’s voice carried from what seemed like miles away. “If we’re quiet they might miss us.”
Madison couldn’t even respond. Her tongue filled her mouth and cotton packed the space between her ears. Lights danced and bobbed in front of her and she couldn’t tell if they were part of her imagination or the members of the camp coming to haul them back.
The rock and ground pressed in around her. Darkness washed over her as she closed her eyes.
Some part of her knew it was wrong to sleep, but the rest of her body screamed for relief. Whatever strength she’d possessed back at the camp was left behind in footprints and drops of blood. The side of her head throbbed.
Cold seeped beneath her jacket and down her sleeves. She shivered in semi-consciousness, barely aware of voices and lights and the trembling body lying next to her.
Brianna? Madison’s thoughts slowed to sludge. She couldn’t feel her fingers or her toes or figure out how to say a single word. Exhaustion and pain overcame her. Staying awake was pointless when she couldn’t even feel her face.
Chapter Sixteen
DANI
Northern California Forest
10:00 p.m.
Lottie crouched in Dani’s lap, small and trembling. If it weren’t for the heat the little dog radiated, Dani would have thought the shivers were her own. The longer she sat in the dark, the more terrifying it became.
The absence of light turned an ordinary forest into a sinister playground of imaginary ghouls and goblins. Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves was the boogeyman coming to claim Dani as a victim.
She was never afraid of nighttime in the city. The steady glow of electricity made even the darkest back alley gray and mostly visible. She could skirt the light and stay safe in the shadows.
But the darkness of the forest clung to her skin and chilled her bones. Colt, Larkin, and Walter had experience in the total blackness. How many missions had Colt gone on where sight was the least of his abilities? Dani was sure the three of them had spent more than one night fighting an unseen enemy.
Not her. Every bad guy she’d ever encountered, from her mother to a drug dealer to Colonel Jarvis, attacked in the light.
The wound on her head still oozed, the smell of her blood cloying in the stillness. Dani kept the rag pressed against her scalp. Sooner or later it would either stop bleeding or she would pass out. She almost hoped for the latter.
The night dragged on. No light. No sounds of men returning from an expedition. No reassuring voices or glimpse of sunrise. It could have been minutes or hours, Dani had no idea. She struggled to stay awake, each blink drawing out longer and longer until her eyes closed longer than they managed to stay open.
Dani jerked upright.
Did I fall asleep? Pass out? Her hand with the rag lay limp in her lap. Lottie wasn’t there; the little spot the dog warmed was cold and empty.
Darkness still stretched on and on in front of her, broken only by tricks of her imagination. She brought her fingers up and gingerly probed her head. The gash stopped bleeding at some point in the night, but blood matted her hair and covered her shirt and turned her into a nasty, injured mess.
Her ankle still throbbed and as Dani attempted to move it, pain shot up her leg. She reached out for the gun and flashlight, fingers stumbling over them a foot away from where she sat. Yes. At least she still had a weapon.
With a scratchy throat, she called for the dog in a hoarse whisper. “Lottie! Lottie! Come here, girl.”
Silence.
She frowned and picked up the flashlight. Should I use it? She thought about Colt out in the dark somewhere, hunting for the source of the light. If they could see someone from a mile away, anyone out there could see her.
A shiver ran through her. The temperature had dropped. Cold seeped through Dani’s clothes. She needed a fire or needed to move. Soon.
“Lottie! Lottie, come!”
Still no dog. Where was she? It wasn’t like Lottie to run off. When someone was hurt or needed help, the little dog was always right there, ready and able.
A noise startled her and Dani sat in the stillness and listened. It came again, low and rumbling. A growl.
Is that Lottie? She strained to hear.
Leaves rustled.
Fur scraped the back of her hand. Dani stifled a scream.
“Lottie!” The little do
g clambered up into Dani’s lap. “You’re safe!”
The dog whined and licked Dani’s palm.
“What is it, girl? What’s wrong?”
Dani didn’t have time to figure it out. A noise sounded again. More like a snort or a snuffle.
It didn’t come from the Yorkie in her lap.
Scooping up Lottie, Dani held her close while she fumbled with the flashlight. Should I use it? Should I wait?
If Lottie would stay quiet, maybe whatever was out there would go away.
A scuffle in the distance. Another huffing snort. This time closer. Louder.
Whatever was out there, it wasn’t leaving. Dani rooted around on the ground until her fingers tumbled over a rock. She picked it up and threw it as hard as possible toward the noise.
Dani didn’t know much about wild animals. What could it be? A coyote? She remembered reading once about a mountain lion that plagued Lake Tahoe, killing people’s pets in their backyards. Could a big cat be prowling the night, looking for a tasty morsel like Lottie to eat?
The little dog growled again and the animal in the woods answered. Dani pressed her lips together. She could always turn on the flashlight, but what good would it do?
The animal would see her. So would everyone else. Where was Colt? She opened her mouth to shout for him, but closed it just as fast.
Could it be a person? Could the noise be someone’s dog on a leash?
The possibilities were endless. All Dani could do was wait.
She eased Lottie’s little trembling body down onto her lap and reached for the flashlight. With the gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other, Dani waited.
One finger rested on the trigger and one on the button of the light. She could face whatever was out there. Coyote, dog, or snarling cat.
Leaves rustled no more than ten feet away. There was a rooting sound, like whatever it was needed to smell its way toward her. Dani’s heart thundered in her chest like a stampede of wild horses. She brought the flashlight up, held it out in front of her.
Whatever was out there, she had to know. The noise came closer. Lottie shifted on Dani’s lap, her little claws digging into Dani’s thighs as she snarled.
That’s it. No more waiting. I have to know.
Dani pushed the button and flooded the immediate vicinity in light.
All she saw was fur. Dark, shaggy fur, black goggling eyes, and an enormous paw.
Oh my God.
It wasn’t a coyote, or a man with a dog, or even a ferocious big cat.
The furry, snarling beast in front of her was a black bear.
A low, throaty noise sounded from deep within the bear’s chest, almost like a hoot. It pulsed in and out and Dani shrank back in fear. The animal was massive. More than twice her size, it had to outweigh her by a hundred pounds at least.
Dani glanced at the handgun in her palm. Would it stop a bear?
The beast prowled in front of her, pacing back and forth and pawing at the ground. Dani kept the flashlight trained on its face, willing it to run away and leave her alone.
Lottie growled at the bear and it snarled back. Oh, no.
Dani raised the gun and pointed it at the bear’s chest. “Go away! Shoo!”
The bear didn’t listen. Missing fur and jagged scars marked the animal’s chest. A fighter. A survivor. Dani didn’t want to hurt it, but she wouldn’t let it kill her.
She screamed louder. “Get out of here!”
The bear huffed and rose up on its hind legs, stretching to an impossible height. Dani stared in horror as it charged.
Ten feet, then five, then three. Dani screamed and shouted as Lottie scrambled off her lap to attack. “No! Lottie!”
She pulled the trigger on the gun and the shot pierced the forest, echoing along the ridges of the foothills. The bear didn’t slow down.
A paw swiped. Lottie yipped. Dani fired again. “Fight me, not her, you bastard!”
The animal turned on Dani. Ferocious and wild with snarling teeth and massive claws as long as Dani’s entire hand. It bounded toward her and Dani fired again.
Claws raked her arm and Dani screamed.
The flashlight flew from her grip and landed in the dirt. The forest plunged into darkness. She fired another shot as fur and spit and menace landed hard on top of her. The barrel of the handgun disappeared into a sea of matted, stinking fur.
Dani protected her face with her injured arm and pulled the trigger again and again until the magazine emptied.
The bear slumped on top of her, breath sawing out of its lungs and heating her face. As the life leaked from its bullet-riddled body, the full weight of the animal came to bear upon Dani’s chest. Heavier than a linebacker, it pressed her into the dirt.
Dani scrabbled on the ground, searching for purchase to pull herself free. She would trade falling face-first with a heavy backpack for this any day of the week. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen. Her eyes watered.
She gasped like a fish on a dock.
There had to be a way. She couldn’t suffocate to death like this. Liquid ran into her eyes and Dani blinked it back. It trickled into her mouth and Dani tasted blood. The wound on her head was open and bleeding.
With the last of her energy, Dani pushed against the bear’s chest. Spots of color swam before her eyes. The ringing in her ears picked back up.
Her fingers grew weak and discombobulated. Her head grew heavier and heavier. It was no use. She couldn’t escape its weight or fur or the stench of defeat.
At last, Dani dropped her arms. They flopped on the ground beside her. She couldn’t move the dead weight pressing her into the earth.
Dani closed her eyes and let pain and fear engulf her. At least I’m not cold.
She smiled to herself as flicks of light flitted across her eyelids. Voices filtered through the haze, but Dani couldn’t understand them.
It was too late and she was tired. It was time to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
COLT
Northern California Forest
11:00 p.m.
The damn lights disappeared into the forest without a trace. Colt had been up and down the stretch of land that bordered a ravine for over an hour with no luck. If it weren’t for the moon directly overhead, he’d have fallen to his death a million times.
There was no way whoever was out there could just scramble down the ledge and across the stream below him. He didn’t hallucinate the lights. None of them did. So where the hell were they?
As he stood there, fuming over what to do, a sound caught his ear. The noise echoed around the gulley, bouncing off the opposite bank and back. Was that a gunshot?
He had to get back to Dani. It had been way too long and they’d wasted too much energy tracking a ghost. In the morning, they would have to hike out of there and Dani might not be able to walk. That ankle of hers was already swelling before he’d even left.
Another pop, followed by another and another. A whole series of them.
If only he could be sure what direction they came from. They could have been firecrackers or bullets, he couldn’t tell, and thanks to the chasm next to him, Colt couldn’t even be sure they weren’t echoes of a single noise.
He turned away from the ravine and hustled back toward Dani’s spot in the forest. At least Larkin was there to protect her.
Thanks to years of land navigation, he could make it back even without the moon as a guide. Hopefully Larkin had kept her warm and comfortable. She needed to recuperate before trekking the rest of the way to the cabin.
As Colt neared the area, he let out a short, low whistle. No one responded. Not Dani, nor Larkin, nor little Lottie. Strange. He tried again with two bursts at a higher pitch. Still nothing.
Colt slowed and readied his Sig. “Larkin!” he whisper-shouted into the trees.
Not a sound.
The hair on Colt’s neck rose and he circled the makeshift camp, coming at it from the north instead of the south. His nostrils twitched as he caught t
he whiff of something musky and wild. An animal? He approached with caution, squinting as the shape of something large and humped loomed ahead.
Is that fur? He eased closer, breathing in the scent of dirty, wet fur and… is that blood? Colt rushed forward and the shape materialized out of the darkness.
What the…? A black bear’s body lay stretched out, head to the side and mouth gaping. One paw stretched forward, claws dug halfway into the earth. Colt lowered into a crouch. What’s a bear doing at camp? Where’s Dani or Larkin? Lottie should be barking or pawing at my feet.
Colt poked at it with his gun and the ground shifted beneath it. A hint of something pale caught the light. Colt leaned closer and shoved at the bear’s leg.
A familiar sweatshirt. A limp hand. Oh, no.
Colt stood up in a rush, shaking his head in disbelief. “Dani! Dani, can you hear me?”
Backing up a handful of steps, Colt charged like a linebacker about to topple an offensive line, dropping his shoulder as he slammed into the bear’s side. The animal’s carcass wobbled, but didn’t move. He backed up and tried again.
He managed to rock the bear’s dead weight up and off the ground. Dani’s shoulder came into view. Blood soaked the front of her clothes. Colt grunted in rage and kept pushing. Drawing deep into his stores of adrenaline and fury, he shoved the animal with all his might until at last it flipped over onto its back.
Leaves and dirt puffed into the air as the bear’s body landed beside Dani’s.
Colt fell to his knees beside her. Please be alive. Please. Reaching for her neck, he searched for a pulse. Come on. Come on. There! A faint thump, followed by another and another. They were weak and far apart, but her heart still beat. She hadn’t left him.
Footfalls sounded behind him and Colt whirled around, gun drawn and ready.
Larkin emerged from the trees and stumbled to a stop. He lifted his hands. “It’s just me, Colt. Put the gun down.”
“How could you?” Colt kept the gun trained squarely on Larkin’s chest. “You were supposed to stay.”