Coyote's Revenge

by Vannetta Chapman

  “I’m fine. It’s only a little bump.”

  “All right. I want everyone buckled, facing the front.” Aiden’s voice was grim. “If it happens again, it’s better for you to be facing the front on impact.”

  There was complete silence for a good five seconds.

  Finally, Kevin pushed up his glasses and asked, “Why would it happen again, Coach?”

  Before Aiden could answer, the white car appeared in his rearview mirror.

  “Everyone hold on.”

  Madison could never have imagined going through such a thing once. The fact it was happening twice sent her mind reeling into shock even as their van leapt forward. This time she saw the cliff that dropped in front of them. Saw the ledge they would go over if Aiden hadn’t managed to find pavement for the tires at the last possible moment. How he did so while the white car was ramming them, backing off, then ramming them again, was nothing short of a miracle.

  The van was filled with an eerie silence. Madison’s head seemed stuffed with cotton. A kind of white noise prevented her from screaming. She wondered if this was what insanity sounded like, but then she chanced a look at the boys behind her and realized it wasn’t madness. It was cold white anger.

  They went around another curve, and the white car again backed off.

  “What are they doing, Aiden? They could kill us.” Madison unbuckled her seatbelt, moved toward the back, and began checking on the boys.

  “I think that might be their point, sweetheart.” Aiden accelerated around the next curve, causing the tires to scream on the icy pavement. “Justin, can you come up here?”

  “Uh, sure, Coach.”

  Justin unbuckled and moved into Madison’s seat.

  “Do you know these roads?”

  “Course I do. My dad and I come up here all the time.” The newest danger seemed to have knocked him straight out of his lethargy. If he was still in shock over the devastation in Virginia, he managed to put it behind him for the moment.

  “There’s an old park map in the glove compartment. Pull it out and open it up.”

  Justin fumbled in the glove compartment as they careened around another curve.

  “Coach, uh, the speed limit sign said twenty and you’re doing like thirty-five in a snowstorm.”

  “Yeah, but they’re having trouble keeping up.” Aiden punched the accelerator again as they came out of another curve. “You find the map?”

  “This ancient one? Yeah. It’s right here.”

  “I think there’s an old logger road at Hidden Lake Nature Trail. It runs parallel to the Garden Wall. You see it?”

  “Yeah, I see it, Coach. But you can’t take that road. It’s been closed for years.”

  “Which is exactly why we’re taking it. We can lose the three amigos behind us. We should be able to cut back to the main road at Triple Arches.”

  By this time Chase had moved up and was looking over Justin’s shoulder. His baseball cap was pulled up high, and he was holding a cold soda can to the lump forming on his head.

  “Demon car is still back there,” Matt reported from the second row. “He can’t keep up with you though, Coach.”

  Chase bent even closer to examine the old map. “So we take the logger road. He’ll be waiting for us when we come out at Triple Arches. What good does that accomplish?”

  “He won’t go as far as Triple Arches. When he comes out of this curve,” Aiden leaned over and pointed to a spot on the map. “When he doesn’t see us here, he’ll realize we ditched him. He’ll backtrack and find us on the logger road.”

  “You lost me, Coach.” Justin removed his cap and scratched his head. “If he finds us on the logger road...”

  “We’d gain twenty minutes on them,” Chase said. “Is that the point?”

  “You’re letting me out of the van when we access the logger road. Justin, you’ll drive the team back to Edgewood. Chase, you’ll help Ms. Hart navigate. With any luck at all, the guys following us will pick up my trail and follow me up the mountain. Right now, I need you two to go in the back. Pack me a full outfit of hiking supplies, including snowshoes, night goggles, and an emergency first-aid kit. Don’t forget some food rations.”

  Justin set the map aside. “So you’ll lead them on a goose chase, but where to, Coach?”

  “There’s a ranger station at the top of Mt. Gould. I should have a twenty-minute head start, and I know the area better. By the time they catch me, if they catch me, we’ll be waiting for them.”

  “We?” Justin asked.

  “Coach, you don’t even know if the ranger station’s manned,” Chase said.

  “You’re going to hike in this?” Justin asked. “You can’t hike the mountain alone in this storm with those madmen behind you.”

  “He’s not hiking alone,” Madison said. “I’m going with him.”

  “NO. YOU’RE NOT,” AIDEN said.

  “Number one rule of hiking—never hike alone.” Madison nudged Justin out of her seat. “Make that two outfits of hiking supplies, boys, and hurry.”

  Justin looked from Madison to Aiden, braced himself between the seats as they careened around another corner, and then moved toward the back of the van. “I’ll bring up enough for two, but I’m not endorsing this plan.”

  “Madison, you are not going with me.”

  “Yes, I am, Aiden. You’re not going alone, and you’re sure not taking one of these boys. I checked everyone. Miraculously they’re fine, but it really infuriates me that those men would hurt children because of...why? I don’t even know why they’re following you. These are children, Aiden. Yeah, I’m going with you.”

  “I can do this alone.”

  “Why would you do that? We’re a team, remember? Teams depend on each other. I might not be an agent, but I know how to hike. We pack out of here together while the boys drive into Edgewood. I can read a trail map as well as you can. I’ll lead while you watch the rear.”

  Aiden ran a hand over the top of his head.

  “What she says makes sense, Coach.”

  “Thank you, Kevin.”

  “Not a problem.” Kevin pushed up his glasses and held on to the chicken strap as they took another corner too fast.

  Aiden jerked the wheel in time to avoid another collision. The white car spun into a pull-off area, but quickly recovered.

  “Listen up, Huskies.” Aiden checked the rearview mirror and made sure he had every boy’s attention. “We’re heading into two S curves, and then we’re making a hard-right turn. Everyone hold on.”

  Then they were spinning in a world of white, and Aiden only thought of force and acceleration and distance. He didn’t allow himself to think of the thirteen lives in the van or what they had come to mean to him. Instead he focused on the mission, on the objective, broke it down into executable tasks until he was taking the exit to Hidden Lake Nature Trail on two wheels. He maneuvered past the barricades and on to the old logger road.

  Twenty minutes later the van came to a stop. He fought the urge to pull up the emergency break and count heads, as if a Husky might have fallen out on one of the curves. But he didn’t have the luxury of time. Outside the van, the world was blanketed in undisturbed white—the first true snow of winter.

  He was out of the van before Madison had unbuckled. “Hand me the supplies, Chase. Justin, follow this road until it intersects with the main one. Keep driving south until you reach Lake McDonald. Dean Dreiser will be waiting for you in the south lot. He’s five feet eleven, one-hundred-eighty pounds, and I’ve trusted him with my life many times.” He stopped and settled his gaze on Justin. “I’m trusting him with all of yours.”

  He slapped the side of the van and whispered “Godspeed” as he looked at the forlorn faces pressed to the van’s windows. He picked up his pack with one hand, reached out for Madison with the other. Together they walked toward the trail and turned for one look back at the van.

  “I love those boys,” Madison said.

  Aiden squeezed her hand, then th
ey turned toward the mountain rising over 9,000 feet above them. It wasn’t a particularly tall peak, but in the waning light and with virtually no foot traffic, it loomed ominously.

  At the trailhead, they stopped to take all of the trail maps from the box, put them into their packs, then started up the mountain.

  Despite the snowfall, the trail was still discernable. Madison led the way. Aiden didn’t bother to cover their tracks. It would be evident the van had stopped in the lot, and they wanted the men to follow them up the mountain. Aiden’s fervent prayer was they could outclimb them, and when they reached the top they would find help at the ranger station.

  They’d climbed for twenty minutes when they heard a car engine. Stopping on a switchback, they stepped back into the shadow of a boulder, pulled out their binoculars, and focused them on the parking lot below. The white car had pulled up, and two of the men had stepped out.

  A tall man gestured toward the trail, talking rapidly and pointing upward. His shorter companion was just as adamantly pointing in the direction of the van tracks. The argument continued for a few more minutes, with neither man persuading the other.

  Finally, a third man exited the vehicle. When he did, the first two quit speaking. The third man walked around the car, looked after the tracks of the van, and shook his head. Then he turned and looked up the trail. He seemed to look up at the very spot where Aiden and Madison stood.

  He only had to glance toward them for Aiden to recognize the face. Coyote.

  Aiden heard Madison suck in her breath. He wondered if she remembered him, if some part of her subconscious struggled to recall the incident on the plane.

  Or perhaps her reaction was a normal one to Coyote’s expression of naked hatred. It was as if he bore a personal vengeance for them, and Aiden was reminded again that Coyote’s brother had died on the floor of his home in Edgewood from a bullet he had shot through his head. Not only had he lost his family, his work—his mission for many years—had been destroyed largely because of Aiden’s mission with USCIS.

  Were it not for Aiden and men like him, the ten other plans conceived and set into motion by Dambusters would have succeeded. Ten other towns like those in Virginia would be struggling to retrieve their dead this morning.

  Aiden understood why the man’s face filled with a pure hatred, a personal vengeance that would stop at nothing.

  Coyote turned back to his two companions, made the decision for them quickly. With a small movement of his wrist, they opened the trunk of the car.

  Aiden wasn’t surprised to see the semi-automatic rifles they pulled out. He had expected as much. He was a little more discouraged to see the winter parkas, snowshoes, and fully equipped hiking packs.

  “At least we know the boys are safe,” Aiden said.

  Madison nodded.

  It was a large comfort to them as they hiked up into the afternoon cold. If they were to die this evening, at least they would die together, knowing they had saved twelve Huskies. Many agents had been killed for less.

  MADISON HAD NO TROUBLE following the trail markers. She was grateful for the weekends she had spent hiking in the western portion of the park. Mt. Gould was more exposed than what she was used to, and they certainly weren’t hiking in ideal conditions. Nonetheless, she found her pace easily and didn’t struggle with the steep trail. The snow was firmly packed at this point, not yet slippery. She forced herself to focus on her footing instead of the men with guns following them.

  The Huskies were safely on their way home. She repeated the words to herself like a mantra. She was so focused, when Aiden tugged on her arm, she nearly toppled over in surprise.

  “Hold up.”

  “Need a break, cowboy?”

  He held a bottle of water out to her, insisting she take a long drink. After he’d recapped it and placed it back in the pack, he pointed off the trail to the north.

  “We’re going this way.”

  “The trail doesn’t go that way.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly what?”

  “We can’t maintain this pace in the dark. We need a place to hold up and rest.”

  Madison looked doubtfully in the direction he’d pointed.

  “What’s over there?”

  “I thought you were going to trust me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I want to tie a lead rope on just in case.” He took a rope out of his pack, fastened it around her waist, let out three feet, then fastened it to his waist. The remaining amount he placed back in his pack. “I’ll lead.”

  “In case what?” Madison asked, but he was already disappearing into the dusk. When the rope became taut she looked down at it, grimaced, and followed. “I feel like a two-year-old on a leash.”

  “I heard that.”

  “Maybe you should make this leash a little longer.”

  “There are bears out here you know.”

  “Maybe you should make this leash a little shorter.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Tell me there’s another resort over here,” she pleaded.

  “There’s another resort over here.”

  “With hot chocolate and warm blankets.” She had caught up and was now following so close her voice was only a whisper.

  “Hot chocolate with marshmallows and toasty blankets,” Aiden agreed.

  He stopped and turned to look at her in the closing darkness. Put his hands on her shoulders, his nose to her nose. She could feel his breath on her, the heat from his hands even through the cold, even through the layers of their clothing. She shivered from the closeness of him, from the intensity of his gaze.

  “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look down.”

  “It’s never good when someone says not to look down.”

  “You’ll do it though?”

  “Sure.”

  He turned and led her around a ledge.

  She had no trouble keeping her promise. If she looked down she would freeze to the path, and stopping wouldn’t help her team one bit. So she trained her eyes on Aiden and put one foot in front of the other. When they reached the other side, he circled his arms around her.

  “Nice going, Maddie.”

  “Really?” She wanted to sound courageous, but her teeth had started to chatter.

  “Really. Now I’m going to untie us for a minute, and I want you to sit right here with the rope. You think about what you’re going to order for dinner when we’re home in Edgewood. By the time you have the meal ordered, I’ll be back.”

  “How many courses?”

  He kissed her forehead, put the rope he had untied in her hands. “As many as you want.”

  And then he was gone, disappearing into the twilight, back the way they had come.

  She started with an appetizer. Worked her way through soup, salad, seafood and steak, with three side dishes. She was deciding on dessert with coffee and an after-dinner cordial when he returned.

  “A real coyote couldn’t find our trail now. Let’s go.” Instead of tying on to her, he took her hand in his and led her a few more yards into the woods. When she began to think they were going to spend the night in a tree, he turned again.

  “Put your other hand out to your side. Feel the rock? That’s the south side of Mount Gould. Most people never see this side of her. They all climb the northern slope, take their pictures, and hurry on home. They don’t stop to know her.”

  Madison let her hand trail along the rock face. Some heat remained there from the sun that had already set. She wondered if they would rest here beside it, huddle up next to the rock that had existed longer than man. Let its warmth seep into them.

  Aiden squeezed her hand and pulled her farther down a trail she couldn’t see. When they stopped, darkness had enveloped them.

  “Squat down,” Aiden whispered.

  So she did.

  “Stay down for a count of ten. This low entrance is the only reason bears don’t use this cave.”

  Her heart pounded to the count of t
en. She stood when he did, found her hand squeezing his in a death grip as the blackness grew impossibly darker still. She hadn’t realized there was light outside until they’d stepped into the complete absence of light inside the cave.

  “Let’s see what she looks like,” Aiden turned on his headlamp.

  The dimensions of the room were nearly the same size of Madison’s bedroom–probably fourteen-by-fourteen feet. It was surprisingly dry. Other than some old graffiti on one wall, there was no sign any other person had ever been there.

  AIDEN TURNED HER AROUND, unzipped her pack, and pulled out her headlamp. Maybe if he gave her some light of her own the scared rabbit look would go away. If he had to stare into her vulnerability much longer, he would fall apart from it rather than his own fatigue.

  He was careful to turn his own lamp toward the ceiling before he turned her back around. Then he pushed her hood back and pulled the elastic strap over her head.

  “The on switch is at the top.”

  She reached up, but he stilled her hand.

  “Don’t turn it on when it’s positioned straight at someone. You’ll blind them.” He pushed it up toward the ceiling like his. “Now turn it on.”

  She did, and a smile as big as Christmas covered her face.

  “Never night hiked before?”

  “Nope. I’ve seen these though—on the Discovery Channel. Always wanted one.”

  She walked around the cave, playing with the light. Aiden spread what would have to pass for dinner on top of a thin blanket then positioned the entire thing near one of the cave walls.

  “Madam. Our finest table is ready.”

  When she turned, she ignored the food and walked straight into his arms.

  “Hang on a minute.” He unzipped his coat, then unzipped hers and pulled her to him. He wanted her to feel his heartbeat, his warmth. “We’re going to make it, Maddie. You’ll see.”

  She nodded as she huddled against him. Inside his coat she seemed incredibly small and defenseless, but he knew she wasn’t. She’d proven her strength this afternoon. Actually she’d proven it a dozen times since that rainy night in Dallas. She was the toughest woman he’d ever met. But even tough women needed time to pull themselves together when terrorists with semi-automatics were chasing them up a snow-covered mountain in the dark.