by Pamela Clare
“Why didn’t you say something?” McBride asked.
“He’s stubborn,” Marc offered.
“It’s not that serious.”
McBride wasn’t convinced. “You should get checked out by medical.”
“And what will they do? They’ll tell me I have second-degree burns and do nothing. You two just keep your manly affection to yourselves.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Marc drew out his cell phone, typed a quick text message to Sophie.
Gabe and six others missing after fire burned through camp where he was staying. Kat knows. She evacuated to the BoCo Fairgrounds with the kids. Thought you’d want to know. We’re safe. See you soon. Love you.
Sophie replied almost immediately.
OMG! How awful. Please stay safe!!!! I love you, too!
Deputy Marcs pulled up beside them in her vehicle.
“Thank God you’re still here.” For the first time all day, she looked shaken, her voice trembling. “Some fucking idiot was flying a drone over the fire. It hit the helicopter that Hawke was in and took out the tail rotor. The chopper crashed right in front of the fire. Four men were aboard—Hawke, Silver, a photojournalist, and the pilot. Help me find the son of a bitch responsible for that drone.”
Marc stomach sank. “Photojournalist?”
Ramirez had been hanging with Hawke. It had to be him.
Please don’t let it be him!
Deputy Marcs nodded. “I think they said he was from the Denver Independent.”
“Fucking hell.” Marc wanted to hit something.
Not Joaquin, too.
“Mierda.” Darcangelo closed his eyes.
“Any idea who the little puke is or where we can look for him?” McBride asked.
“Witnesses said they saw two college-aged guys in the Food Mart parking lot holding what looked like a drone controller. They were wearing T-shirts and hiking shorts.”
Marc didn’t know what they could do with that kind of description. “That describes every young person in Colorado today.”
“Sorry. That’s all I’ve got. I’m setting up a roadblock to check the cars that leave town. If you could help...”
McBride nodded. “You got it.”
Marc and Darcangelo got into Marc’s vehicle, while McBride drove his. They started in the Food Mart parking lot.
“Where would I run if I were an idiot kid who knew I’d just fucked up bigtime?” McBride asked.
Julian pointed with a jerk of his head. “I’d run for the cover of that creek, and I’d ditch that controller as fast as I could.”
They came up with a plan on the spot. McBride would drive around to the other side and follow the south bank of the creek to the reservoir, while Marc and Darcangelo walked along the north bank. If they found the little bastards, they would detain them and call Deputy Marcs.
Neither Marc nor Darcangelo spoke as they moved along, Marc sick at the thought of what might have happened to Joaquin. No, they didn’t have proof he was gone, but if he was…
What a fucking awful way to die.
And with Mia about to have a baby…
Marc’s chest constricted. He drew a breath, willed himself to focus on the search.
Sandbar willow grew along the bank, rising to almost six feet, creating natural cover for someone trying to hide. Trash littered the mud—used condoms, soda bottles, plastic vials from marijuana dispensaries.
Darcangelo pointed.
Two sets of fresh footprints.
They were heading east, toward the reservoir.
Marc fired off a text message to McBride and kept going.
A deer darted out from a thicket of willows, startled by their approach.
Marc’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket. “McBride says they’re down at the reservoir. He says they just threw something into the water.”
His phone buzzed again. “They saw McBride and rabbited. They’re headed our way.”
“That’s convenient.” Julian stepped into cover.
Marc did the same, the two of them crouching down in the willow.
Heavy footfalls. Splashing. Heavy breathing.
“Move! Hurry!” a young man whisper-shouted. “He knows it’s us!”
“This is your fault!” another whispered back.
“You wanted to fly it, too!”
“You crashed it into the helicopter! You probably killed people!”
Three. Two. One.
Marc and Darcangelo moved as one, stepping in front of the kids. “Stop! Police!”
They froze, wide-eyed terror on their young faces.
Then one turned to run, only to find McBride walking up behind him.
“Going somewhere?”
Another started to bolt.
Marc stepped in front of him, touched a hand to the butt of his pistol. “Don’t make me draw my weapon.”
They handcuffed the kids and marched them to McBride’s SUV, listening to their excuses and bickering the entire way.
“It was his drone. I was just there. I didn’t actually fly it.”
“He’s lying. He flew it for a few minutes. He wanted me to fly it. You wanted to see the fire as much as I did.”
“I didn’t crash it into the helicopter. That was you.”
The kids probably didn’t realize they were confessing, and Marc didn’t point that out to them. All of this would go into his report of the incident.
“You got cuffs?” Marc asked McBride.
“Always.”
By the time McBride had them cuffed, Deputy Marcs had arrived, overheads flashing. She arrested them and put them in the backseat of her vehicle. “I’m taking you to the county sheriff’s office for processing. You two might have caused the deaths of four good men, men with wives and kids and families. I hope you understand how serious this is.”
One of the young men started to cry.
Marc started back toward the reservoir.
“Hey, Hunter, where are you going?” Darcangelo called after him.
“To find whatever they threw in the water.”
He’d bet his ass it was the controller. If it was, it would clinch the case against them and give Mia and Joaquin and Hawke and all of them a little justice.
Chapter 15
Vicki drove Lexi’s car through nearly empty streets to The Cave, Libby following in her vehicle, Bob and Kendra still at the inn, shoving whatever they could into their Ford Bronco. It had felt strange to leave her own car behind, but then it was just a car.
Lexi needed her right now.
Lexi had insisted they stop at Team headquarters before leaving Scarlet so she could grab the hard drive that held all of the Team’s old financial records. Lexi was a supporting Team member and had taken over as the organization’s accountant after the previous one had been caught embezzling. How she could think of the Team when she was sick with worry over Austin, Vicki didn’t know.
If Eric had been missing or presumed dead, Vicki would have been a wreck.
Eric had texted her not long ago to tell her he was going up in a chopper to rescue survivors at Mato Sapa and find Austin, but so far Vicki hadn’t heard back from him. It didn’t take long to travel by helicopter, so Vicki could only assume the news wasn’t good. Otherwise, he’d have let her know right away.
Vicki pulled into the parking lot.
Lexi unbuckled her seatbelt. “It will only take a minute or two.”
“I’ll stay with Emily and Mack.” Vicki kept the engine—and the AC—running.
Emily was asleep in her car seat, her pink blankie tucked beneath her chin, her red hair in tiny pigtails, blissfully unaware that the daddy she loved was missing and maybe or…
No, Austin couldn’t be dead. The thought was just too terrible.
Lexi hurried inside, glancing over her shoulder toward the fire.
Vicki could see the wall of smoke in her rearview mirror—dark, ominous, menacing.
She’d sent a quick text message to
let Eric know she was on her way down the canyon. With a raging fire threatening Scarlet, Austin missing, and people lying injured and maybe dead at Camp Mato Sapa, he needed to be able to focus on his job, not waste time worrying about her.
Libby rolled down her window, shouted to Vicki. “He called! Brandon called using someone else’s phone. I guess he left his at the firehouse.”
It was the first smile Vicki had seen on her face all day. “That’s great!”
Poor Libby! She’d had a fight with Brandon, and then her house had burned down. If that didn’t qualify as a shitty day, what did?
Lexi stepped out of The Cave with Megs, the stunned expressions on their faces and the way they looked at her making Vicki’s pulse skip.
Something had happened.
She rolled down her window. “What is it?”
Megs motioned to her. “Come inside. You, too, Libby.”
Vicki turned off the engine and followed Megs, leaving Lexi to get Emily and Mack. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
No one said anything.
Libby followed. “Did something happen to Brandon?”
They walked through the front door into the Ops Room, where Ahearn sat in front of the radio with a handful of other Team members—Nicole Turner, Bahir Acharya, Sasha Dillon, and Creed Herrera.
Vicki’s mouth went dry, dread churning in her stomach. She looked from Megs to Ahearn. “Please just tell me—is my husband alive?”
Ahearn stood. “The helicopter he and Brandon Silver were flying in crashed in front of the flaming front. They survived the crash, but they had to deploy shelters. Dispatch has tried to raise them, but they’re not answering.”
Libby cried out, sank to the floor beside Vicki, covering her face with her hands.
But Vicki couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, her heart thudding painfully, her pulse rushing in her ears.
A burst of static from the radio.
“Helicopter Ninety-Eight Echo, do you copy? Nineteen-oh-one, do you copy?”
Nineteen-oh-one.
That was Eric’s fire department call number.
Answer, Eric. Please answer! Say something!
Silence.
This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.
“No response from Helicopter Ninety-Eight Echo or its passengers.”
Vicki took a step forward. “They can’t give up. Why are they giving up? Why don’t they keep calling?”
Megs knelt beside Libby, wrapped her arms around her. “They’ve been trying for the past five minutes.”
Vicki’s mind raced for explanations. “Maybe the fire hasn’t burned through yet, or maybe their radios were damaged by the heat or…”
Or maybe they’re all dead.
The world around Vicki blurred, pain seeming to shatter her breastbone. She sagged against the conference table, her throat going tight. “He can’t be … gone. I’m pregnant. I just told him… I surprised him at breakfast.”
Lexi came up beside her, smiling through tears. “A new baby. That’s wonderful.”
She wrapped her arms around Vicki and held her.
“To hell with this!” Creed surged to his feet. “I’m going after them. Who’s with me?”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Megs stood. “Taylor, Belcourt, Rossiter, Hawke, and seven other people are missing! I don’t want you to be next.”
“I can’t sit here and do nothing!”
“Sure, you can!” Megs’ voice broke. “Do you think I’d be here right now if there were any chance at all that we could reach them?”
“Fuck!” Creed let out a frustrated shout, threw open the door to the vehicle bays, and stomped out.
Just then, Bob stepped through the front door.
“What’s holding you up, Lexi? We’re ready to…” He glanced around. “Hell. Did you get bad news about my son-in-law?”
Lexi stepped back, but held onto Vicki’s hand. “Eric and Brandon Silver and two other men were in a helicopter that crashed right in front of the fire. They survived the crash and deployed fire shelters, but no one has been able to reach them since.”
“Ah, shit.”
At Lexi’s words, Vicki’s stomach revolted. She put a hand to her belly, drew a few breaths. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Through there.” Lexi pointed to the bathroom, following her inside, and closing the door behind them. “Morning sickness?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
Lexi stayed while Vicki threw up, handing her a wet paper towel when it was over. “I can’t believe this. It’s worse than my worst nightmare.”
But Vicki had lived with the fear of Eric being hurt or killed in a fire since she’d watched him put out that blaze at Hank’s place.
“I need to call Eric’s mother.”
Austin opened his eyes, found himself staring up at a familiar face, hair from a long beard tickling his forehead. “Bear?”
“Austin Taylor.” Bear looked down at him, concern in his eyes.
Austin tried to remember. He’d left the lake, hiked back to his truck, and started for Scarlet. “What am I doing on the ground?”
“Sleeping.”
Hypothermia.
Shit.
“I came to warn you about the fire, to get you out.”
“You came … for me?”
The surprise in Bear’s voice put an ache in Austin’s chest. “I needed to make sure you were safe.”
“Mama said when fires come, run to the mine.”
So, Bear had been safe in an old mine all this time.
Didn’t it just figure?
Austin fought to sit up, got an assist from Bear, and saw that he’d collapsed only a hundred or so yards from his truck. Not good. “I’m sorry about your cabin.”
“The things of this world will pass away.”
“I took these to keep them safe.” Austin reached into his backpack, which Bear had apparently removed from his shoulders, and drew out the diary and the photograph.
Bear stared. “You took Mama’s book and picture.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to save them.”
Bear crushed him in a big hug, gave a little sob.
“It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay.” But then Austin couldn’t resist. “Do you know which of these little boys in the photograph is you?”
Bear pointed to the oldest child.
The journal entry had been written in 1959. The two younger children hadn’t been born yet, and the middle daughter had been a nursing baby. Bear must have been six when the entry had been written. He looked like he was around ten years old in the photo. That meant he must be almost sixty-five years old now.
Holy shit.
Austin tried to remember what he’d read. “Your name is Matthew, right?”
Bear stared open-mouthed at him, tears in his eyes.
“No one has called you that in a long time, have they, buddy?”
Bear pointed at the image. “Mama. Papa. Luke. Paul. Mary. John. Elizabeth.”
“That’s your family—your parents, your brothers and sisters.”
Bear nodded. “They’re waiting for me in heaven.”
What an awful thing it must have been for Bear to lose them all.
“Can I put these in my pack to keep them safe while we walk to town? You can have them back any time you want.”
Bear nodded again, yielding the precious items to Austin’s care.
Austin did his best to explain the situation—how he’d run from the fire, how he’d taken refuge in the lake, how the cold water had left him dangerously hypothermic. “I need to get to the hospital.”
Bear stood. “Old Bear will take you to Winona.”
Bear sometimes took sick and injured wildlife to Winona.
Austin chuckled. “Okay. Thanks.”
In the next instant, he found himself hauled to his feet, Bear half-carrying him down the dirt road. The man was a lot stronger than Austin realized. Then again, he’
d lived his entire life in the wilderness, fending for himself, and was taller than Austin, who was six-three, by a good four inches.
“Have you seen any helicopters?”
“No.”
Damn.
They plodded down the road, passing through a smoky wasteland, charred snags and smoldering logs all that remained of a once-thriving forest, green replaced by black and gray. Austin stumbled more than once. He’d have fallen to the ground again if Bear hadn’t been there to hold him up. Neither of them said much, Austin because he was struggling to remain conscious and Bear because, well, he was Bear.
Austin was exhausted. Just being awake was painful. “Don’t let me fall asleep, Bear. If I do, I might never wake up.”
Bear started singing, old hymns, whether to pass the time or to keep him awake, Austin couldn’t say. Austin didn’t know the lyrics, but delivered in Bear’s rich baritone, the words were comforting.
Austin found himself wanting to ask Bear what had killed the rest of his family, how old he’d been when he’d been left alone, and how he had managed to survive. But he didn’t want to hurt Bear with careless questions. Besides, he could scarcely think.
What he wouldn’t give to see a rescue chopper head their way. A heated blanket, some warm IV fluids, some warm oxygen, and he’d be good. But there was no chopper, not even the beating of the rotors in the distance.
Why wouldn’t they send someone? Hawke knew where he’d gone. He’d surely send someone to make sure Austin was okay. Unless…
Maybe the situation was too dire and they couldn’t, or maybe …
Maybe they truly believe you’re dead.
Well, hell.
If only you’d thought to take your phone out of your pocket before jumping in the water...
Right. Next time he was entrapped in a wildfire and took shelter in a freaking lake, he’d remember that.
On and on they walked. They couldn’t be far from Camp Mato Sapa. Then again, the landscape looked so different without the forest that Austin couldn’t be sure precisely where they were. He fought to stay on his feet, fought to keep going. Lexi was probably worried sick. He needed to get back to her, needed to let her know he was okay.