Canyon Standoff

by Valerie Hansen

  She was dealing with the Eric Larson who’d bucked the National Park Service at every turn in the search for his sister, who’d been unwilling to bend his life for their marriage...

  She hadn’t yielded either.

  Morgan couldn’t fault him for the emotion concerning Hannah, but she couldn’t let him walk into certain death either. “You breaking an arm or a leg out here isn’t going to help her. It will only get you a quick ride out with an air evacuation.” She held up a hand before he could speak. “Same if you get shot.”

  “The rain gives me cover.”

  “The rain washes out what little trail there is. There are more dangerous things in the canyon than humans. Chances are we’re looking at a hunter with bad eyesight.” No matter what they’d discussed earlier, it had to be that. Why would someone wait for days in volatile weather for the possibility a ranger or a hiker would happen by?

  “We both know not. Hunters aren’t packing that kind of firepower. A hunter wouldn’t fire at a trophy he can’t get to before it’s wrecked in the rain.” He kicked a rock that disappeared into the downpour.

  “The only way a sniper makes sense is if one of us is the target.”

  Eric dropped away from the cave entrance, though he kept a wary eye on the rain. “A bomb exploded at the ranger station. There have been multiple attacks on rangers lately. It’s possible someone has a grudge against the Park Service and has been waiting out here for a backcountry patrol or—”

  “Or they could be waiting for you.”

  “That’s even more far-fetched.”

  Not even three full days on the trail and they were fighting like two-year-olds.

  Morgan flinched as lightning struck nearby, the crash a rolling freight train as it bounced off the rock face. The odds of being struck were one in seven hundred thousand. A few hours away in Vegas, people gambled on worse. Morgan rested her palm on the grip of her pistol and tapped her finger against the holster. “Is there any reason someone would want to come after you?”

  “That’s insane.”

  “Enlighten me. It’s not exactly like we have a Broadway show in here to entertain us. Might as well exercise our imaginations.”

  “You always did like a good musical.” His smile was quick, a flash like the lightning outside, gone so fast she wasn’t even sure it’d been real.

  Morgan shuddered the sensation away. Eric Larson was a man searching desperately for his sister. A man who had already proved his career didn’t dovetail with building a relationship...ever.

  This was strictly professional.

  “Fine. I’ll play along. If this is truly targeted, it’s a whole lot more likely we’re dealing with a disgruntled former government employee who’s out to make a point. And if that’s the case, the person we need to be worried about protecting is you.” Eric returned to his position beside her. “Even discounting the recent attacks, I know the statistics. I know law enforcement rangers are way more likely to be assaulted than their counterparts in local law enforcement, FBI and other investigative services. I know there are missing-ranger cold cases out there. I know—”

  “How?”

  “Because I looked into the job. And for eight years I’ve had a Google alert set for...” He inhaled deeply and turned away. “Let’s say I’ve been following the situation.”

  I’ve been looking out for you. The unspoken words were clear in the still air. He’d been watching and worrying from a distance the same way she had. Why?

  Likely the same reason she’d held her breath and said a prayer every Sunday night as she typed his name into the search box, praying she’d never be confronted with a flag-backed photo announcing his death.

  She opened her mouth to commiserate, to rebuild a bond, then stopped. This wasn’t a conversation they should be having, especially not in their current situation. The rain slacked off, and the thunder grew distant as the wind screamed with less force. “I think we need to decide on our next move. I should have a signal soon and be able to call in. The best thing to do is to wait for an aircraft to get a line of sight on the other side of the canyon so we can get boots on the ground to investigate. We’ll get to safety until the shooter’s in custody. I’ll—”

  “No.” His voice was emphatic and hard. “I’m not walking away when my sister is out there. You can do what you want, but I’m heading straight to Lava Creek like we planned.” He glanced at the almost nonexistent rain, hefted his pack and moved to shoulder past her. “You do whatever you want. You owe me nothing.”

  “Eric, wait.” Her hand on his biceps stopped his determined forward motion. “You’re not going alone. The Park Service put conditions on you being allowed out here. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me. If something happens to you...”

  What she didn’t say slumped his shoulders. If something happens to you, Hannah is lost forever. Eric’s muscles tightened. “Fine, but I call the—”

  “No, I call the shots, or I make one call to have your backcountry pass revoked and you hauled out of here as fast as I can get an aircraft inbound. Are we clear?”

  Eric fixed his eyes on the far side of the canyon, visible as the storm moved on.

  “Eric, listen...” Morgan took a deep breath and went where neither of them had yet dared. “You know you can trust me, but I need to be able to trust I won’t turn around and find out you’ve hightailed it out on your own.”

  His index finger worked double time on his thigh. Truth was, he was in no position to refuse her help and they both knew it.

  “Agreed.”

  One battle down. “I’ll try to get a signal once the cloud cover clears, but if one shot gets fired when we step out of here, then we shelter in place and wait for backup. I’m not risking our lives to a trigger-happy sharpshooter or a hunter with zero common sense.”

  Eric nodded but remained silent, focused on outside the cave.

  There was no doubt what he was doing. Considering their situation, Morgan was certain he searched for signs someone was watching through a rifle scope.

  * * *

  The sun was lower than Morgan wanted it to be by the time they reached Lava Creek, the shadows long but the air a good twenty degrees warmer than it had been at higher elevations. The creek ran as more than the usual trickle after the storms, enough to splash away the heat of the day but not enough to be worrisome. Cottonwood trees around the creek provided shade and shelter from anyone who might take a potshot from above.

  Most people who’d never been in the backcountry pictured the canyon as a claustrophobic channel with steep walls to the sky. While that was true of some spots, this location offered a wide expanse of sky.

  Morgan’s body ached from three days of hiking, and her temples throbbed with stress. Every muscle had been tight since they left the crevice, tensed from the wait for a bullet to pierce her skin. Half of her was certain the shooter had already fled while the other half could feel him watching from some hideaway. She wanted to believe it was a one-off, a hunting accident, a poacher who pulled the trigger without thinking... Oh, how she had spent the majority of the hike praying it was so. Anything else was unthinkable.

  Worse, while the rain had cleared, the clouds had never lifted, rendering the satellite phone unusable. No help was on the way.

  Eric stalked her footsteps about eight feet behind, the same space he’d occupied the entire hike. She hadn’t dared to look at him, but from the sound of a couple of his stumbles, he’d been more intent on searching for a muzzle flash on the rim than he had been on dogging her footsteps.

  They had an unspoken agreement. She kept an eye on the trail, and he kept an eye on the rocky rim above them.

  Under the coverage of a cottonwood tree, Morgan slid her pack to the ground and tilted her head side to side to roll away some of the tension. “Here looks good. We’ve got the creek to replenish water, and we’re sheltered from anythin
g above.” They’d have to draw water and let it sit for a few hours before they could purify it, but they had time.

  She eyed Eric. Would he chafe at stopping while it was still daylight? Especially here, where Hannah had vanished?

  Eric shifted his gaze from the sky to the ground, sweeping back and forth. He was probably making sure none of the six species of rattlesnakes in the canyon was lying in wait. While all of the snakes she’d ever seen had slithered off rather than confront her, the creatures were still her least favorite thing about backcountry patrols.

  He sniffed and aimed a finger up the creek. “You know this is where...”

  “I know.” It wasn’t rattlesnakes that had him restless. It was memories. Guilt. Grief. If only she knew what to say to make it better, but there was nothing. Not as long as Hannah Larson seemed to have vanished from the planet.

  Eric dropped his pack and settled beside it with his back against the base of a tree, then took a long draw from his insulated water bottle. His expression shifted as though he’d made a decision. “What’s the plan for dinner since our pizza never arrived?”

  “I’m thinking tonight will be a freeze-dried favorite. You?” They hadn’t discussed communal dinners, but it wouldn’t hurt if they were careful about rationing. While there were a few caches of field rations stashed along some of the backcountry routes, running out of food below the rim was a quick path to trouble. For the past two nights, they’d silently eaten their own meals, but if he was willing to be social... “We can see if we have anything that complements each other.”

  Ooh. That was probably the wrong way to word it.

  Eric didn’t bat an eye. “I’ve got pretty much the same as you. Oh, and some kind of homemade peanut butter protein bars I’ve been saving. A lady at the ranger station knew who I was and gave them to me before I headed out. She was waiting when I dropped off the Jeep and told me she’d been praying for Hannah.”

  “You’re going to eat food a stranger handed you?” Call her overly cautious and maybe a little scared, but she’d developed a distrust of strangers over her years as a law enforcement officer. There were too many people in this world willing to harm others. It was one of the reasons she’d taken this job in the backcountry, where the most she had to worry about was wild animals. Including snakes, of course.

  Until today.

  “She was a volunteer. One of the rangers at the station vouched for her. Wish I could remember her name.”

  Wait. Homemade peanut butter bars? Morgan smiled. The gift-bearing lady was no stranger. “A little shorter than me? In her seventies? Big eyes and a bigger smile?”

  “Yep.”

  “Angel Campos. She volunteers quite a bit, was probably on the initial search for Hannah. She’s retired from the Park Service but still shows up pretty faithfully.” Morgan settled to the ground and leaned against her pack, her legs finally realizing they’d stopped for the day and refusing to move any farther until she rested. “Angel is named well. If she says she’s praying for Hannah, then it’s more than a quick prayer while she’s walking out the door. She’s been on her face on the floor all night, asking God to watch out for your sister.” Angel held legendary status among the rangers for her selflessness, going above and beyond even in her retired years.

  Her retired years. She’d been around a long time. Had been working at the park even before Morgan was assigned. Which meant... “Eric, she didn’t happen to find you. She’s probably been keeping tabs on you. I doubt you remember, but she was likely involved in the search for your parents when they disappeared on the river.”

  “Hmm.” He stared into the distance, probably seeing the past more than the rocks and creek in front of him.

  “She learned you planned to head out and made a point to be there. She was probably awake in the dark hours to cook and pray for you.”

  Clearing his throat, Eric looked across at her. “They were still warm when she handed them to me.”

  “I’ll guarantee there’s a smaller bag inside with a verse on it. That’s how Angel operates.”

  Eric eyed her, one eyebrow raised and his lips pursed in thought. “You know I have to look right now, don’t you?”

  “I expected no less.” On day one of the hike, he’d shared that he’d become a Christian after their divorce. She’d seen enough this week to know Eric Larson walked what he talked... And he talked what he walked.

  Unzipping a side pouch on his pack, he pulled out a bag of crushed peanut butter bars, shoved a bite into his mouth, then pulled out a second smaller zip-top bag from the inside. He tossed her the snack, then held up his prize. “You were right.” He thumbed crumbs from the side of the bag, stuck his thumb in his mouth to keep from wasting the homemade goodness, then read the verse through the clear plastic.

  Morgan tried not to stare, but the way his expression changed from grief to peace to awe riveted her. His eyes, too rich of a brown to be real, almost seemed to darken as he read.

  He dragged his hand across his mouth, then rummaged through his bag and pulled out a water purification kit. “We need water. I’ll be back.” He dropped the plastic-wrapped message in her lap as he passed, then disappeared toward the creek.

  FOUR

  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; he that keeps thee will not slumber.

  The first three verses of Psalm 121. King James Version. Eric turned onto his back in the lightweight sleeping bag and stared at the stars through the branches of a cottonwood tree. He should be sleeping while Morgan kept watch, getting ready for their shift change at two, but he couldn’t. He was...floored. Broken.

  What was that word his great-grandmother had been so fond of using? Gobsmacked.

  He was gobsmacked. Or maybe more appropriately, God-smacked.

  He’d smile if the situation wasn’t so mind-blowing. He knew those verses by heart straight out of the King James Version. Hannah had gone to the military surplus store and had a patch made before his first deployment, one he’d carried with him ever since. Even now, the well-worn scrap of fabric lay tucked into the top flap of his backpack.

  The same words he’d received from a stranger who had not only searched for Hannah but was doing some serious praying on her behalf, as well.

  He hadn’t discovered it night one or night two on the trail... But on night three. In the exact spot where Hannah had vanished, where he needed it most.

  Eric dragged both hands down his face, palms scraping against stubble. Since he’d read Angel’s message, peace reigned, almost as though God was telling him it would be okay, no matter what the circumstances said.

  With all of his heart, Eric wanted to believe his sister was alive. His mind knew the chances were slim. Even without flooding rains, Hannah was two weeks in the wild without provisions.

  Eric sat up, sleeping bag pooling at his waist. No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t abandon her. Everyone else had. Recovery had become the byword, but he’d find her. He’d bring her home again.

  This was the thing he’d wrestled with for months as he embraced the suck in Afghanistan and prayed to make it home with his buddies in one piece. Was it time to separate from the army? Time to move home and be closer to Hannah so she wouldn’t have to worry about losing him, too?

  He tried to close his eyes and breathe deeply but uneasiness crept in and stole his rest. It was like those times overseas, moments before the bad guys pulled something terrible. Those weird, back-of-his-mind feelings that said something was wrong, even when logic said there was nothing to worry about.

  The day’s events had him too charged, too tightly wound to rest.

  With a huff, he kicked off the sleeping bag. Since he was awake, he might as well stand watch and let Morgan rest.

  A thud and a scrape drifted from the creek. />
  Eric scrambled to his feet and ran before he could fully process the sound. Maybe it was simply nature being nature, a bobcat pouncing on prey, anything other than Morgan in danger. He didn’t dare call out to her, not when a stranger might be out there.

  Sharp rocks and twigs jabbed at his bare feet as he rushed to the creek’s edge, where Morgan stood watch. Thick clouds hid the moon. Nothing moved except the creek, whose waters trickled over rocks loud enough to dampen every other sound.

  Morgan’s water bottle was there, but she was gone.

  So much like Hannah.

  Eric jerked his head from side to side, trying to see, trying to hear. He should have brought a flashlight, but—

  A small sound behind him and the world vanished as something covered his head. Felt like canvas. A force pulled the rough material against his face and dragged him backward.

  Dark. Too dark.

  Eric fought with every evasive maneuver he knew, but the darkness and lack of air muddied his mind. His body ached. His lungs screamed for air. It was too hard to tell if the darkness was from without or within as his brain screamed for oxygen that came in thin, hot wisps.

  Not enough.

  Eric shoved an elbow backward and made contact, but the jab was weak. He struggled against growing darkness.

  He was slipping. Slipping...

  * * *

  It was too quiet.

  Morgan had been antsy since Eric disappeared to his sleeping bag, the silence around the creek too heavy. Nothing moved. No creatures had anything to say. Restless, she’d walked to the bend in the creek, listening, searching...

  It wasn’t right. Something always scurried in the darkness, particularly near water. Yet for the past half hour, the only sound had been the creek trickling over rocks.