Freefall (12 page)

“He’d have escaped.”

“He
did
escape. We’re lucky he didn’t shoot us.”

“This is why I can’t get laid,” Caleb said, bracing his hands on his hips. “Nice guys always finish last.”

If she wasn’t so exhausted, she’d have laughed at his false estimation of himself.

“It’s on you when he kills someone else,” he said to Faith.

“Let’s keep walking,” she said, her stomach churning with anxiety. She had a bad feeling now that Javier had gone. Criminal or not, he’d protected her from the men in the helicopter, and prevented her from falling overboard. Despite Caleb’s “good intentions,” she knew she couldn’t count on him if they ran into trouble.

Cursing, Ted staggered upright. As the trio trudged forward, fat droplets of water fell from the heavy leaves and tree branches, hitting the ground like stealthy footprints. Birds and squirrels rustled in the bushes nearby. The forest sounds seemed magnified in the otherwise silent dawn. She imagined villains lurking around every corner.

They approached a misty meadow that reminded Faith of the one Javier had stopped her from entering. Her pants were already wet and muddy from the knees down. Moisture clung to her skin and eyelashes. Her hair frizzed.

Ugh. She was so tired.

The next thing she knew, two men were hiking toward them. One had on a rain poncho, which seemed appropriate, but the other was wearing a leather jacket. It looked wildly out of place on a nature trail.

“Act cool,” Caleb said under his breath. The men were too close to run from, so feigning nonchalance was the only option.

“Hello,” the man in leather said. He had a slight accent. Was this Javier’s boss, the man who’d stolen his girlfriend? With his broad face and low forehead, he wasn’t handsome. “We’re looking for our friend.”

“We haven’t seen anyone. Sorry.”

The man nodded. He appeared close to forty, and Hispanic. His companion was a scruffy, dark-haired white guy in his early twenties. “Where are you coming from?”

“Kaweah Camp,” Caleb said. “We’re going to Moraine Lake.”

“And you haven’t seen anyone?”

“Not a soul.”

The man glanced at Faith, as if she might have a different answer. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “We heard our friend was with a girl named Faith. A pretty blonde.”

Her heart dropped.

Ted and Caleb exchanged a nervous glance.

“This is Katie,” Caleb said, clamping his hand around her upper arm. “We have to get a move on. Sorry we can’t help you.”

She let Caleb guide her past the men, her pulse pounding. Ted brought up the rear. Seconds later, a loud pop split the air. Caleb let go of her arm. Faith glanced over her shoulder as Ted crumpled to the ground. Everything seemed to progress in slow motion after that. Caleb yelled for Ted, but his voice was muffled. The echo in her ears drowned out all other sounds.

Ted was facedown, unmoving. Behind him, the older man held a gun. While she watched, drawing her breath to scream, he aimed and fired again. Caleb staggered sideways and fell down, clutching his thigh.

She turned to run. Her throat felt raw from the ragged shriek she could barely hear. Saving her breath, she clapped her mouth shut and concentrated on getting away. Her muscles were weak from overexertion, but panic gave her an energy boost. She zipped toward the trees, pumping her legs as hard as she could.

Why hadn’t she listened to Hope? If she was in better shape, she could sprint faster, and they’d never catch her.

But she hadn’t listened to Hope, and she couldn’t keep up the pace. She sensed a presence behind her, heavy footfalls crashing down the trail. He was gaining on her. With a terrified sob, she ducked right, trying to evade him. The underbrush whipped against her shins, and the bumpy ground threatened to trip her up.

He grabbed a handful of her hair, snapping her head back. They went down to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

It was the younger man. She tried to kick and claw him, her mind filled with sexual assault memories, but her fingernails found no purchase on his rain poncho. He used his weight to subdue her, shoving her arms over her head. Another man had held her down like this once, overpowering her with his strength, refusing to take no for an answer.

“I’m not raping you,” he said. “Calm down!”

She realized that she’d been screaming rape and fell silent, although his words didn’t reassure her. His partner had just shot at two men, maybe killed them. Being violated was, perhaps, the least of her worries.

The guy rolled her over and wrenched her arms behind her back. He was so much stronger than she was, she couldn’t move an inch. A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed her and she whimpered, her cheek pressed to the muddy earth as he bound her wrists with a hard, thin material that cut into her skin.

He lifted himself off her and dragged her upright. She was breathing hard, her damp shirt plastered to her chest. With her arms tied behind her back and her breasts thrust forward, there was no hiding the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her captor noticed, but didn’t remark on the sight. He gave her body a detached perusal, as if searching for injuries, not places to grab when he had more time. “Let’s go,” he said, clearing his throat.

Although she didn’t want to cooperate, she was afraid not to. Her scalp ached from the hair-pulling. She trudged forward on shaky legs, finding it ironic that Javier had been in this position less than an hour ago. Maybe he was still nearby.

Caleb’s blood was all over the trail. He struggled to tie a piece of cord around his thigh. Ted wasn’t moving. She assumed he was dead, and her stomach did a sickening roll. The shooter waited for her and his friend to approach, gun pointed down at the ground.

“Where’s Del Norte?”

“Del Norte?”

“Javier Del Norte, the man you were with.”

Faith had no idea which direction he’d gone. If she led them to him, would they kill him? If she didn’t, would they kill
her?

“I think he went this way,” she said, tilting her head north.

CHAPTER TWELVE

W
HEN
H
OPE
AWOKE
, Sam was watching her.

She sat up with a start. Her right shoulder and hip ached from the prolonged contact with the hard ground. Her entire body was sore, especially her arms. Rock climbing, kayaking and hanging off a ledge had stressed her muscles.

She’d dreamed about falling again. No surprise there. In another disturbing nightmare, she’d been searching the woods for a wailing infant. She followed its cries to the wrecked plane at the top of Angel Wings. When she looked inside, Faith was sitting in the pilot’s seat, her hair dark with blood.

She blinked away the image, placing a hand over her pounding heart. She could still hear the baby crying. The plaintive sound echoed in her ears, making her ache with emptiness. Her hand lowered to her flat stomach and then clenched into a tight fist.

Sam’s eyes followed the motion.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Six-thirty.”

He’d been busy. The fire was still going, and he must have collected water, because a full container sat near her.

“Rainwater?”

“I treated it.”

She took a long drink. “Did you sleep?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He glanced away, rubbing at the tattoo on his wrist. It was now bare of elastic. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Or himself, she figured. He was reluctant to fall asleep near her because of what had happened yesterday morning. Instead of making the same mistake or showing emotion again, he’d avoided sleep altogether.

His retreat felt like another rejection, deeper than the others. He’d shared intimate details with her about Melissa and his head injury. He’d kissed Hope passionately after rescuing her. But he couldn’t share her blanket or allow himself to get close to her?

They ate the last two energy bars in silence.

After breakfast, she turned on her radio. Last night, she’d switched it off to preserve the batteries. Revealing her location wasn’t an option, because she might be overheard, but she could listen to the other rangers.

The radio had three channels. Channel one dealt with emergencies and law enforcement. It transmitted park-wide to all rangers, and could be used by local police. Channel two, for daily operations, transmitted among coworkers at individual stations. Channel three was reserved for conversations with the park manager. Although those transmissions could also be intercepted, it was less likely.

Hope switched between the first two channels, hearing some discussion from rangers at Moraine Lake and Kaweah Camp. Their efforts sounded disorganized, which was unusual. Ron and the rafting group had checked in. The others, including Faith, were still MIA. Channel three was silent. Where was Dixon?

She returned to the second channel, puzzled.

“Ranger Banning, come in,” the dispatcher said.

“I can’t answer,” she said to Sam.

“Does it have GPS?”

“No, but if someone is listening, they might be able to estimate my distance from the strength of the signal.”

He nodded, following her logic. “What about code?”

“Do you know Morse?”

“Just the SOS.”

That wasn’t much help. She needed to communicate information, not a distress call. “If they were on channel three, I might answer.”

“Why?”

“No one but Dixon uses it.”

His mouth tightened at the mention of her former boyfriend. “Are you ready to head back?”

“I’d rather keep going south. We’re almost halfway to Moraine Lake.”

“Where do you think those guys went?”

“I don’t know.” After a night of rain, there was no use looking for their trail at the main entrance of the cave.

“What about the suspect?”

Hope assumed her sister was still with him. If Del Norte was smart, he wouldn’t walk along the river at all. It made more sense for him to head west, toward the Mineral King Station. Angel Wings and Valhalla were visible from the path. An alternative route veered through the glacier-carved gorge, between the rock faces.

“Let’s go as far south as the fork,” she suggested. “From there, we can turn toward Mineral King.”

He agreed, probably because he thought it was the safest choice. Hope didn’t tell him that she planned to look for footprints—and follow them, if one set belonged to her sister. Finding Faith was still her top priority.

“I’m not spending another night out in the open.”

She didn’t blame him. Without food and shelter, they couldn’t go far. They had to get supplies or rejoin civilization this evening.

Breaking camp was easy. She folded up the blanket and passed it to Sam. He made a bundle out of his long-sleeved shirt, carrying it like a messenger bag. Her sports top kept falling down on one side, so she tied the torn ends together before they left the cavern. As they entered the forest of trees outside, she glanced around warily. The rain had abated, leaving the earth damp and fragrant.

They found the path and followed it south. She took the lead because she was armed, and a better tracker than Sam. The ground was covered with wet leaves, which made it hard to detect footprints.

She lowered the volume on her radio and kept going, glancing over her shoulder at him. He had dark smudges under his eyes, and his jaw was shadowed by stubble. Last night, he’d asked her what she was avoiding. After everything he’d revealed, she felt as though she owed him an honest answer, but she didn’t know how to broach the subject.

She related to Melissa’s aspirations for a family, and wondered at the timing of her death. “You said that Melissa had a bucket list. What was on it?”

His brows rose at the question. “Peaks to climb.”

“How many?”

“Seven.”

“Kalymnos was the last one?”

“No, it was number six. She didn’t get to Mount Whitney.” His expression grew pained. “I was supposed to go there to spread her ashes.”

“When?”

“Before the quake. I went to San Diego to get the urn from her parents. I mean, I think that’s what I was doing there. I had a map to Whitney Portal and her ashes with me during the freeway collapse.”

Oh God. Her heart broke for him. “Starting a family wasn’t on the list?”

“Not this list.”

“So you weren’t...trying.”

He stopped in his tracks. “What are you asking?”

She turned to face him, hearing the outrage in his tone.

“You want to know if she was pregnant,” he accused. “You think I took my pregnant fiancée on a climbing trip and let her die.”

Her stomach sank. “No.”

“Over the past two years, no one’s had the nerve to ask me that. Congratulations, Hope. You win the insensitivity award.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her mind reeling. “You said you wanted children and I got the impression—”

“That I was a baby killer, in addition to a fiancée killer?”

“No.” Melissa’s death wasn’t his fault. She knew that, even if he didn’t.

“She was on birth control. She planned to stop taking it after we climbed Whitney. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It’s not.”

“What if I didn’t know for sure? Jesus. If I wanted to jump off a cliff, a question like that would send me right over the edge.”

She hadn’t anticipated his anger, but of course he was offended. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just wondering if the reason you...freaked out...after we slept together had something to do with a pregnancy.”

He gave her a blank look. “We used condoms that night.”

“I’m not explaining this right.”

“Yeah, maybe you should just drop it.”

“You asked what I was avoiding! I’m trying to tell you.”

He fell silent, waiting for it.

“Children and pregnancy are on my mind right now, because of...my past. I thought you might have asked me to leave that night because the marks on my stomach triggered a memory about Melissa.”

“Marks?”

“The stretch marks.”

“You have stretch marks,” he said, his tone disbelieving.

She tugged down the waistband of her pants and pointed to the silvery lines on her lower abdomen.

He squinted in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

She didn’t think he was lying. Either he hadn’t noticed her stretch marks that night or he’d forgotten about them. “When I was seventeen, I had a baby.”

His gaze jerked up to her face.

“I gave her up for adoption,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion. “It was the best choice for both of us, but the experience changed my life forever. I’ve struggled with moving on. Maybe I have been avoiding relationships, for some of the same reasons you are. I know how hard it is to let go.”

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, absorbing her revelation. After a taut moment, his mouth twisted with derision. “You think you know what it’s like to be me because you had an unplanned pregnancy ten years ago and
decided
to get rid of the baby? No,” he said, rejecting the notion. Rejecting her, as a person. “I’m sorry, Hope. The situations are totally different. My memory was taken from me. Melissa was taken from me. She’s dead, gone forever. I didn’t have a
choice.
”

Hope let her waistband snap into place dully. She turned and stumbled down the trail, blinded by tears. He didn’t understand, but that was her fault. She hadn’t expressed herself well, and this wasn’t the place to discuss it.

His words hurt, though. So much. They soaked into every vulnerable crack within her, expanding her pain. She’d agonized over the decision to give up her daughter. If he thought her grief didn’t compare to his, he was wrong.

Her sacrifice had affected everything she’d done over the past ten years. It was why she held herself at a distance from others; she was afraid to love and lose again. The only person she gave her entire heart to was Faith.

They didn’t talk for several minutes. The tightness in her chest eased, little by little, and she was able to hold her tears at bay.

She’d break down later. When she was alone.

“Ranger Banning, come in.”

Struck by inspiration, she picked up the radio and transmitted three taps. After a short pause, she tapped three more times. Then she clicked over to channel three and waited, hoping the operator would take the hint.

“Ranger Banning, is that you?”

She gripped the radio until her knuckles went white. The transmission wasn’t from Dispatch, and the voice sounded very close.

“We have Faith.”

“Don’t answer,” Sam warned.

Worried that he’d try to interfere, she edged away from him as she pressed the button. “This is Ranger Banning.”

“Where are you?”

“Let me talk to my sister,” she said.

Faith’s cry of distress rang out in the background.

A chill traveled up Hope’s spine. She had no idea how they’d found a way to communicate with her. Modern scanners could pick up signals, but only employees with programmed radios could respond.

She moistened her lips, glancing at Sam. “What do you want?”

“A guide to the cargo.”

“Say no,” Sam ordered.

“Come to the waterfall by the moon-shaped meadow. Alone.”

Mist Falls. It was only three miles away. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The transmission ended.

Sam gaped at her. “You can’t go.”

“Why?”

“They’ll kill you after you help them.”

Hope would worry about that when Faith was safe. She’d “gotten rid of” her baby. She wasn’t giving up on her sister. “Stay here,” she said. “Or head back to Kaweah. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to the falls.”

“I won’t let you.”

She pulled the gun from her waistband and pointed it at his chest. “You know that thing you said earlier, about not having a choice?”

His eyes darkened with regret.

“Don’t follow me,” she said, leaving him there.

* * *

J
AVIER
JOGGED
NORTH
until he found the trail that led toward the twin peaks.

Heart pumping, he skirted around the fork in the path, not wanting to leave footprints at this critical junction. He continued to walk alongside the trail for several miles until it passed through a copse. At that point, the path was covered with leaves, and crashing through the underbrush would make an obvious disturbance.

He emerged from the trees and climbed uphill, so worried about being followed that he almost forgot to pay attention to what lay ahead. As he reached the top of the slope, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with awareness. Instead of continuing down the other side, he ducked behind a boulder, his pulse thundering in his ears.

When he looked around the rock, he caught a glimpse of a man in the distance. Cursing, he flattened his belly against the ground and edged forward, studying the approaching threat from a safer position.

The guy was alone and unarmed. Although he wore a park uniform, he probably wasn’t a member of law enforcement. He had a radio attached to his belt, along with a flashlight or pepper spray. Javier estimated his height at well over six feet. He had a lean build. He was young. He looked a little green.

Javier could probably take him. Even so, he hesitated, giving the man a closer study. He sized up all of his opponents based on his experience in the boxing ring and his work as an enforcer for Gonzales. There was something different about this guy. Unlike Caleb and Ted, he proceeded with caution, scanning the landscape. He expected trouble. Javier would have a hard time sneaking up on him.

He’d also promised Faith he wouldn’t kill anyone else.

Maybe Javier should let the scout pass by. But logic told him he wouldn’t get another opportunity to disguise himself.

He scrambled back down the hillside, into the copse. He found a good hiding spot and drew his gun. Normally he’d wait for the mark to walk past him in a situation like this. Worried that the worker would sense his presence, Javier jumped out from behind the tree trunk and rushed at him with a feral yell.

“Turn around,” he said, aiming the gun between his startled blue eyes. “Turn around and put your hands up or I’ll fucking shoot you!”