Canyon Standoff

by Valerie Hansen

  Thick clouds obscured the moon, but her night vision had adjusted after hours in the darkness and afforded her enough sight to keep her flashlight off. Turning it on would give away their position if anyone was looking for them.

  Highly unlikely, but still...

  Glancing at her watch, she headed toward the makeshift campsite under the cottonwoods. It was close to time to wake Eric for his watch, but it seemed cruel to do so. It was likely she wouldn’t sleep anyway, not when all she could envision was a rifle-toting shadow around every corner.

  Rocks crunched under her feet as she neared the spot where she’d left her water bottle, but another sound layered over everything else.

  Shuffling. A sharp grunt. A muffled shout.

  Morgan reached for her pistol as she ran toward the campsite.

  Two men wrestled in the semidarkness, one hooding another’s head with what looked to be a small backpack.

  Two men. Fighting. One had to be Eric, but from a distance it was impossible to distinguish the tangled figures.

  Drawing her sidearm, she held it aimed at the ground. Morgan edged closer as quickly as she dared, hoping to keep the element of surprise, heart pounding.

  The man whose face was covered dropped to his knees, his energy clearly waning. For the first time, she got a view of the assailant’s shape in the near darkness and it wasn’t Eric. He was too short, too slight.

  Morgan bolted into action, raising her weapon. “Park Service! Let him go!”

  The world froze. The fighting hesitated, then Eric’s attacker shoved him in a tumble toward the creek and ran north into the scattering of trees.

  Morgan took two steps in pursuit but stopped. Running headlong into the night would be foolish. No light, no trail, no idea who was out there or what they were capable of.

  And Eric nearly motionless by the creek...

  She skidded to her knees beside him, then eased him to a sitting position and pulled the bag from his head.

  He gulped in lungfuls of air and shook his head as if to clear it.

  Morgan’s fingers trailed his face, then down tight muscles in his neck, searching for damage. “You okay?”

  “Shaky, but good.” He pushed away, leveraging himself against the ground to stand.

  Morgan rose with him. He was not fine. His hands shook and it was clear he’d been close to unconsciousness...if he hadn’t been completely out.

  He could have been killed while she was roaming the area instead of standing watch the way she should have. She’d missed all of the signs. Nothing had changed. She was a disgrace to her badge.

  She was a ranger. Trained. Trusted. Better than allowing her “partner” to be sneak attacked in the night. “Eric, I’m calling for help as soon as the skies clear. You’re not well.”

  “I’m fine. And we need to follow him.” Eric straightened, wavered for a second, then seemed to get his bearings. He stared to the north, in the direction his attacker had fled. “I’m going after him.”

  “No way. He’s got a decent head start, we don’t know if he’s armed and we can’t use flashlights because they’d pinpoint our location.”

  Eric marched a few feet away, hands on hips, his back a solid wall. He was probably debating whether to listen. She was familiar with his stubbornness, his need for action.

  Well, this time he was wrong. This time, he’d almost been killed.

  Adrenaline robbed her strength. He’d almost been killed. Her knees threatened to go soft on her. If he’d died, it would have been her fault.

  “Fine. I won’t follow him. But you’re not having me carted out of here like some wisp of nothing who can’t get over thirty seconds without oxygen. I can hold my breath.”

  “You were nearly unconscious.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Morgan’s jaw tightened. They could stand here and argue or they could take action. “Fine.” She turned and strode toward their makeshift campsite and her pack. Maybe she’d be able to get a signal on the satellite phone, though the sky was obscured. “I’m still calling this in. The sooner we get other rangers on this, the faster they bring in whoever this guy is.” Even if she managed to get a signal, it would be morning before a search could start, but Morgan didn’t care. Her deepest hope was the guy didn’t try again.

  But something was wrong. If he was armed, he’d have shot Eric rather than try to suffocate him or drag him away. “Why the canvas bag?”

  He stopped, staring toward the campsite as she stepped beside him. “What?”

  “Assuming this is the same guy who fired on us earlier, why not kill you? Why waste the time trying to render you unconscious? Why struggle with you instead of taking you out?” In training and over her years in law enforcement, she’d learned small details were the most telling, and nonsensical things were important things.

  She started walking, urging Eric forward. “We need to get out of here, get moving before he returns and brings friends with him.”

  Eric merely walked beside her and a half step ahead, probably aware she’d never let him take point in front of her.

  Under the trees, Morgan stomped to her sleeping bag and reached for her pack, which she’d set by the opening.

  It was gone.

  Surely she was missing it.

  But there was enough light to make out shapes in the area. She made a slow circuit, then faced Eric, stark realization taking hold. “My pack’s missing.”

  All of her communication and survival gear were gone.

  FIVE

  Eric spun and jogged to where he’d been trying to rest. He tripped over the end of his sleeping bag and stopped.

  No way. He turned in the same slow motion as Morgan. His backpack was gone, as well. How had someone gotten past them?

  “He’s not working alone.” Morgan stepped closer, her voice grim. She held up a watertight bag. “Food was in the tree to protect it from animals and we have the water we filtered earlier, but...”

  As she trailed off, Eric glanced toward the cottonwood about fifty feet from where he’d been lying before his anonymous attacker struck. The shadow of the pack that held his food and water filtration kit still hung there. They had food. They had water and the ability to purify more given enough time, but nothing else. No GPS, no maps, no communication.

  In the literal middle of nowhere, they were completely cutoff and at the mercy of whoever was clearly trying to send them a deadly message. Eric’s lungs burned with the reminder.

  That wasn’t the worst part. He’d lowered his guard, had failed to protect his sister and Morgan. If he’d been taken out tonight because he wasn’t paying attention, there would be no one left to spearhead the search for Hannah... And there was no telling what a sadistic madman would do to Morgan in the backcountry with Eric out of the way.

  “Eric?”

  He scratched his stiff neck and turned to her. “Well, you wondered why they didn’t try to kill us. Looks like they opted for the slow way.”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Morgan lifted her face to the clouds. She was either praying or trying to think of a way out of this. If the past was an indicator, she was praying.

  “How long before they organize a search party for a missing ranger?”

  “Communication can be spotty this far out, especially if the clouds hang on, and I’m technically on vacation. Still, they’ll expect contact. I’d guess it will be about twenty-four hours before they worry.” Morgan slowly lowered her head to meet his gaze. “I just realized something, though.”

  She was standing exceptionally close, so close he could make out her features, even in the semidarkness. He could feel her warmth. In spite of several days in the backcountry, the faintest scent of citrus still clung to her, probably shampoo or...

  Eric took one step away. What kind of idiot was he, noticing such things right now? He cleared his
throat. “Tell me you realized something good.”

  She gave a small shake of her head. “I was out there alone while you slept. No one came at me.”

  His gut twisted into freefall the same way it had when the call came about his parents’ deaths, in the same way it had when he realized Hannah was really gone. “I’m the target.” He watched Morgan pace toward her sleeping bag. “Unless taking me out would make you vulnerable? Someone could be preying on...on females.” Nausea clinched his gut. Preying on his sister.

  Morgan turned away and rolled up her gear with quick, jerky movements. Even from this distance in the faint dark, there was a tense anger about her motions, one he couldn’t fault her for. Anger, pain and the edge of fear gnawed at him, too.

  But there was no time to dwell on what felt like an unfolding horror movie. They had to get moving and conceal their location. Following her lead, he crafted a makeshift pack from his sleeping bag, then stowed his food inside.

  If he kept moving, he couldn’t think, couldn’t imagine his sister in the hands of a madman.

  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. The words cycled over and over. Could he risk truly believing them? Because believing meant he couldn’t help himself and Morgan or Hannah.

  Only God could.

  No. Eric was God’s boots on the ground, and he had to keep moving or Hannah was lost forever.

  Before he finished packing, Morgan was at his side, her bundled sleeping bag slung over her shoulder, hand resting on the grip of her pistol at her hip.

  He’d stashed his gun in his pack before bedding down. With his pack gone, only one of them was armed, and if he had to guess, all Morgan had for ammunition was the bullets in her magazine. The bad news kept snowballing.

  “I don’t know if you’re the target or if I am, and it doesn’t matter. Our biggest priority is making an almost three-day hike out of here as quickly as possible, because without communication...” She sighed heavily and hefted her bag higher onto her shoulder. “You didn’t happen to keep a flashlight in with your food did you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Figures.” She stepped slowly toward the river. “All I have is a small LED light, but using it is dangerous. We can hike a little ways along the creek edge, but we’ll have to move slowly and try to retrace our steps. No telling where holes or critters are hiding. One wrong step, and we’re in trouble. There’s no way for me to carry you out of here, and I doubt you want to hike out with me on your back either.”

  With the ascents and descents they’d made over the past three days, the thought of one of them injured was more than he was ready to contemplate.

  Morgan eyed the sky. To the northwest, stars began to peek out and the full moon brightened the sky. Light would be both a blessing and a curse.

  Morgan made a slow turn and faced south, away from the direction they’d hiked for the past few days. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

  “I’m game for anything.”

  “Whoever is following expects us to retrace our steps and hike out. It will be a hard trek with only what we have left. We have no extra water and no time to wait for more to settle before we have to get moving. What if we do the unexpected?”

  “Which is...?”

  “We parallel the path you originally planned to take with Hannah and make our way to the Colorado. There’s a cache with provisions where Lava Creek comes out. If the river isn’t too high for it after all of the rains, we can flag down some rafters and hitch a ride or get a message out. Get more people searching, get some supplies, then return and resume our original search path. It will cost us a couple of days, but it might be our best option.” She hefted her bag and started walking. “We’ll have to stay out of sight and not right along the creek. It will take twice as long and be a tough slog, but it’s doable.”

  He fell into step behind Morgan, watching her take step by methodical step along a nonexistent trail. Her head swiveled as she searched the ground in the ever-increasing moonlight, probably watching for snakes and hidden holes.

  Eric exhaled and tore his eyes from her to watch the area around them. Turning away from their planned search route was harder than he expected, his muscles aching to continue the search for Hannah. But he had to follow Morgan and get to safety. They were in direr straits than she’d verbalized, with a long trek ahead of them and only one day’s worth of water each. Any delay in getting to the river and neither they nor Hannah would make it out of the backcountry alive.

  * * *

  Adrenaline had long ago worn off, and the aftermath was not Morgan’s friend.

  They’d been walking for two hours at a century-old tortoise’s pace. Every muscle ached. The gnawing anxiety of being trapped in the backcountry with a stalker and no way to call for help dogged every step. And Eric’s steady breathing close on her boot heels layered the past over every thought.

  What would life be like if he’d been willing to stay here with her? If she’d been willing to pack everything to go with him?

  She rolled her shoulders and kept her eyes on the ground. Focus. It was her job to get them out of this alive, to lead them to the river and help.

  Their nighttime journey was doubly tough when past memories clashed swords with present danger. They weren’t alone out here. Someone was tailing them, toying with them. Every theory she came up with shattered under one question: Why keep them alive when killing them would be easier?

  Somewhere nearby was a small cave with a barely visible opening etched into the rock face. It would offer them a place to rest and maybe to hide, at least until they could set off with more energy.

  Morgan brushed her fingers across the grip of her Glock, taking a small measure of comfort from its weight at her side. The magazine held only fifteen rounds.

  Fifteen rounds to protect them from dangerous animals...or dangerous humans.

  A shove from behind pushed her forward another step.

  “Why’d you stop?” Eric edged around to stand beside her.

  She must have slowed, dragged by her thoughts. “We have to break soon. If we don’t rest, we’re never going to make it through this.” She glanced around. “If I’m not totally missing my mark and walking in circles, there’s a cave nearby. The bend in the creek back there is the landmark for it.” She stepped closer to the rock face, searching for a shadow to indicate the entrance.

  There. “It’s a tight squeeze in, but that’s in our favor.”

  They tromped the last hundred yards, turning sideways to slip into the darkness. Morgan produced her pocket flashlight, finally feeling she could use it without giving away their location. She swept the area. No animals. No spiders. No snakes. At least not in plain sight, and she sure wasn’t going on the hunt for one.

  She dropped her bedroll, tension easing for the first time in hours. For the moment, they were safe, hidden from view and hopefully out of harm’s way. “I think we’re clear.”

  Eric slid his makeshift pack from his shoulder, then settled to the ground beside it, rubbing his neck. He’d probably wrenched it during the attack. “Far as I could tell, nobody followed us. Tough to hear, but I didn’t see anything suspicious.”

  Neither of them had seen anything at the campsite either. “I say we rest here and wait for daylight. Grab something to eat and keep going. The river’s too muddy here to filter water from it, so we have to go with what we’ve got. Once we reach the river there’s a cache with MREs and water so we won’t have to wait hours to filter it.” No ammo and no radio, but the knowledge that supplies lay ahead at least offered hope...even if the food was military rations.

  “Mmm... MREs. Nothing like ‘Mr. E’ to make life better.” Sarcasm laced Eric’s voice, then he sat forward. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and there’ll be a chili mac. Not the greatest, but it has pound cake. And coffe
e.”

  “You know way too much about this.”

  “Hey, everybody has a favorite. I’ve seen guys almost come to blows over chow.” He scratched the side of his nose and stared over her head as though he could see a memory there. “My last deployment, we had a guy who hated chicken. Hated it. Wouldn’t touch the stuff. We’d been in the middle of nowhere forever, living off what was in our rucksacks, so MREs were an oasis in the desert. When we got them, every meal was chicken. Poor guy lived for two weeks on whatever nobody else wanted out of their chow.”

  Clearly, he was feeling relief at being tucked out of sight. Either that or this was a coping mechanism. Eric was talking about the past to keep from thinking too much about the present. She could appreciate the motivation behind the words.

  He clearly loved the military. Knowing him and his constant drive for adventure, he’d seen and done it all. Morgan sank to the ground across from him, her weary muscles grateful for rest. “What made you want to be a soldier?” They’d never talked about it before. Maybe it was off-limits, too close to the thing that had kept them apart.

  Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d rather talk about anything other than their current dire situation.

  Eric didn’t seem to notice her verbal faux pas. At least, he didn’t react to it. He stretched out his legs and rocked his feet from side to side, probably working the kinks out of his ankles. “No fair. I asked you about rangering, years ago. You blocked me. Changed the subject. Complete—”

  “Got it.” He’d always been given to exaggeration. It was one of the things she’d fallen in love with. He could make her laugh when no one else could.

  For the first time ever, she wanted to tell the truth and confess the fear that had driven her into the wild.

  Maybe it was because he was no longer tied to her future. Maybe it was because there were no longer high stakes between them, and he couldn’t call her a coward and then leave the way the man before him had. Maybe it was because he was hurting and scared over Hannah and she wanted to give him something.