Hunted in Alaska, page 8
“The guy who can keep tabs on us and figure out a way for the others to take a shortcut to intercept and ambush us.”
“Cheery thought.” Sean grimaced. “We’ve already determined that Cauley and Patterson must be in possession of satellite phones so they can keep in touch even if Glenn scouts ahead. Another reason why we need to figure out a way to get our hands on one of those phones.”
“For now, let’s deal with throwing them off our trail and finding somewhere to hole up when the sun goes down. They won’t be able to travel safely in the darkness any more than we will.”
Hayley’s next step landed in an unexpected dip and shot an arrow of pain up her leg. She let out an involuntary huff.
Sean hooked a hand through her elbow and brought them both to a halt. “How is your ankle?”
The limb was hot and throbbing, but she wasn’t about to turn into one of the smuggler boss’s whiny crew. Not when there was no choice about staying on the move.
“I could use more painkillers and analgesics. Then I’m good to go.” She forced a smile.
“Right.” Sean lifted skeptical eyebrows.
Hayley took her medicine, and they both hydrated from the canteen. Then they each grabbed a strip of jerky to gnaw on while they traveled. Mack snapped up a doggie treat she offered him. It was important to do all they could to keep their strength up. The terrain roughened, and few words were spoken as they navigated.
Half a mile later they came to the stream and halted along its beach of mud and shale. Hayley studied the flow. The water rushed deeper and faster than the creek they crossed that morning, and the bottom of this one was rocky and uneven. Not optimal. With a sigh, she knelt and filled their depleted canteen.
Then she rose and faced Sean. “We have two objectives here. One, don’t venture in so deep the water goes over the tops of our boots. The last thing we need is freezing wet socks. Two, remain far enough from the bank that we don’t splash water onto it, which will give away our route to Glenn’s tracker eyes. Oh, and I guess there’s a third requirement.” She gazed into Sean’s dark eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to carry Mack because staying long-term in the water will be too cold for him, and he’ll leave paw prints on the bank.”
“Done.” Sean’s solemn gaze matched hers. “I’m up for it.”
“I believe you, but he’s heavy. Step onto that flat stretch of shale on the bank when you pick him up, or your footprints will dig unnaturally deep into the ground.”
Sean moved onto the rock, squatted and called the dog’s name. Mack left the bush he was sniffing and trotted to the man. Sean’s arms reached to encircle the dog, but the animal twisted away. Hayley spoke a few stern words to Mack, and Sean’s second attempt to pick him up succeeded. The ATF agent grunted as he heaved to his feet with his load. His face reddened with the effort, but he showed white teeth in a jaunty grin.
Sean clearly had a bit of macho in him, too. If only she was fit to at least carry the backpack for him, but she was going to be challenged enough with her bum ankle to wade through the rough, rock-strewn water without support. A long breath left Hayley’s lungs, emitting small contrails of condensation. With dusk drawing in upon them, the temperatures were dropping to around freezing.
Firming her jaw, she turned away from the agent and stepped out. The shallow torrent immediately transmitted chill to her feet through tough leather and thick socks. How long they could wisely remain in the water remained to be seen.
For long minutes, they struggled upriver against the current that tugged at their feet and on uncertain footing over slick rocks. Speed was not an option here. Mack began to emit a steady, high whine.
“Easy, boy.” Hayley spoke gently to him over her shoulder.
The animal’s head was up, nose pricked. Her gut clenched. Were their pursuers within scenting distance already? How could that be? She increased their speed as greatly as she dared. Behind her, Sean’s breathing was starting to come in deep puffs.
“Not much longer,” she said.
Suddenly, a large animal heaved to its feet from among the tall bushes lining the waterway. The young, female moose let out its characteristic moaning cry and turned tail, its shaggy coat becoming flashes of black among the trees and brush.
Behind Hayley, Mack’s whine changed to a growl and then a full-throated bark. She swiveled barely in time to witness her dog lunge from Sean’s arms into hot pursuit. The lunge sent the ATF agent sprawling backward into the creek with a great splash.
Hayley’s heart plummeted to her toes. Their situation had gone from deep distress to the verge of disaster. Unless they stopped to build a fire and dry Sean’s clothing, hypothermia would quickly claim his life. But if they stopped, bullets would soon end both their lives.
* * *
In a single moment, Sean’s body went from mildly chilled to arctic—like being swallowed whole by an iceberg. The reflexive impulse to escape the sensation shot him to his feet as quickly as he’d fallen. Shivers stabbed through him as he slogged onto the riverbank.
“We have to light a fire and get you close to it immediately,” Hayley said, following him onto land.
Sean shook his head as he removed his sodden stocking cap and gloves and thrust them into water-beaded jacket pockets, where they would soon freeze solid. “We can’t s-stop.” His chattering teeth made him stutter.
“I know, but we have no choice. You’ll die.”
He turned toward her. Hayley’s face had washed pale, and her eyes were huge as her gaze swept him up and down.
“I’ll be uncomfortable, but I won’t d-die,” he said. “At least, not quickly. My legs, head and hands took a dousing, but my waterproof j-jacket kept my torso dry. As long as my core stays warm, my limbs will function if we keep moving briskly. We can stop and light a fire when night falls. Our pursuers will have to do the s-same.”
Hayley nodded, and color returned to her face. “For a city boy, you came prepared with good gear for wilderness survival.”
Sean managed to force his frozen cheeks into some semblance of a smile. “A northwestern fisherman’s s-son wouldn’t buy any other kind of jacket than w-waterproof.”
“All right, then. Let’s get trotting before your jeans freeze solid. We’re only a mile or so from the abandoned cabin I wanted to reach before nightfall.”
“A c-cabin? Right n-now, that sounds like a dream come t-true.”
Hayley darted away into the bushes and the forest beyond. Sean followed, trudging at first against the resistance of the freezing pants. Ice chunks snapped and broke off with every stride. Then the resistance loosened and he managed a lope, although the wet fabric chaffed his legs with every stride. The effort kept his core warm after losing the coverings for his head and hands turned discomfort into misery he must ignore. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hair and beard sported icicles. Not that he was going to try to verify the presumption with fingers steadily going numb.
Hayley was right. He needed to get cozy with a fire very soon.
For some time, the terrain remained flat but sparsely wooded. Sean kept vigilant with his head turning this way and that, but he spotted no other humans. Hopefully, Hayley’s ploy of confusing their trail with the river had bought them enough distance from their pursuers that the thugs wouldn’t get within eyeshot of them before they all were forced to stop for the night.
Mack soon appeared, trotting along, tongue lolling. Sean sent him a glare the dog countered with a tail swish and an expression Sean could only describe as smug at chasing away the frightened moose.
About a mile later, another splotch of dense woodland swallowed them in stands of spruce, aspen, birch and pine. The trees cut the wind and rendered Sean marginally warmer. The relief was tempered by the necessity of a slower pace. His fingers—and his toes, too, since his socks had gotten wet—were in danger of frostbite. That fire couldn’t happen soon enough.
“We’re close now,” Hayley said.
Sean pushed himself faster even as he forced his unfeeling fingers to ball and flex. He had to keep some circulation going. Why did he feel so tired? As if he wanted nothing more than to curl on the ground and let sleep take him? Sure, he’d gone overnight without sleep, but he’d skipped a night’s rest before and not felt as if he could barely put one foot ahead of another. Creeping hypothermia. Had to be. He couldn’t allow the encroaching blackness in his mind to take him.
Had...to...keep...going.
Then they stepped out of the trees into a small clearing surrounded by woods. Sean blinked and forced himself to focus. The building sitting in the center of the open area barely deserved the name shack. The entire structure leaned in one direction and the porch had deteriorated so much it no longer connected to the cabin. One thing it had though, was a sturdy stone chimney, and a pile of chopped logs was stacked near it.
“Let’s get inside.” Hayley gripped his jacket, tugging him forward.
Sean took a step and stumbled. Standing still had been a mistake. His legs would barely function, and his body began to shudder.
“Get moving, mister!” Hayley’s harsh shout echoed in his ears as if coming from a distance. “I can’t carry you. You have to walk.”
A sharp sting penetrated the numbness in Sean’s cheek. He reared back, hauling in a deep breath. She’d slapped him.
Good girl. Now, move, boy!
Sean forced his wooden legs to move and his leaden feet to plod forward. With aching slowness, they crossed the yard, climbed onto the rickety porch and stepped through the door into the musty murk of the cabin’s ancient interior.
On robotic feet, Sean allowed Hayley to lead him close to the cavernous hearth. The only thing missing was the one thing that could save him—a roaring blaze. But his brain couldn’t seem to tell his body how to go about starting one. He was shutting down. Not good.
Hayley knelt and worked his boots off, then turned and dug through her pack. Sean swayed where he stood but couldn’t figure out how to slump to the floor against the pressure of his frozen jeans around his legs.
“Get out of those wet pants and socks.” Hayley’s voice came to him as if from a distance. “And put these on. Do it now!”
Her bark galvanized him into sluggish action as she shoved a pair of dry long johns and socks at him. She turned away to rummage farther in her pack as Sean robotically complied with her order, the wet jeans snapping and crackling as he wrestled out of them. The long johns were a bit too small, but they hugged him with welcome warmth. Putting the socks on was beyond him, however.
Then Hayley turned and a large sheet enveloped his body. The Mylar blanket. Gentle hands urged him to a seat on the floor. Reality faded, and he drifted in a pale haze, not awake, but not unconscious either. Dimly, he registered brisk movement around him and someone putting the dry socks on his feet, but he no longer had the power to move. Gradually, blackness took him.
* * *
Warmth. Not the false warmth of advanced hypothermia, but genuine heat. Also, a crackling sound, and from somewhere near his nose, a crisp pine scent. The latter as much as anything had awakened him.
Sean opened his eyes and turned his head slightly. The movement brought a crinkling sound and a heightened pine odor. He was resting on evergreen boughs and covered with one of the Mylar blankets. Sean’s gaze found the primary source of warmth—the fire dancing in the great hearth mere feet from his prone body.
Hayley! Where was she?
Sean raised himself on his elbows from the pine bed and spotted a form wrapped in a silvery Mylar blanket sitting at the far side of the hearth. Her injured leg was elevated on a chunk of firewood, the other one curled close to her body. Well, she wasn’t really sitting. More like slumped, eyes closed, against the stone chimney surround, as if she’d been awake and keeping watch, but gradually slumber had gotten the better of her.
Mack lay near Hayley’s feet, but at Sean’s movement, the dog lifted his head. The animal seemed to grace Sean with a doggy grin and then resettled his great head onto his large paws and closed his eyes.
Sean also settled himself again. Hunger and thirst niggled at him but responding to those needs was too taxing. Weariness weighted his whole body and mind. Not surprising considering the exertions they’d undergone since he landed with Patterson’s crooked crew at Hayley’s homestead deep in the Alaskan bush.
After his mother died in the accident, and his father took him away to Portland to start work on a fishing boat, Sean had never thought to return to this part of the state. This was his mom’s home stomping grounds where he’d spent his earliest childhood. Mom had been a constant then and his dad was around daily, rather than the arrangement in Portland of leaving Sean with his brother’s family while he spent weeks and even months at sea. Those early memories of Interior Alaska were vague, like faded and out-of-focus pictures. But they were overlaid with a sense of peace and contentment he’d never experienced since the day his childish antics triggered the greatest tragedy his life had ever known.
Sean shoved the searing memory away. As often as the terrifying recollection had swooped upon him—sometimes at the most inopportune moments—he should have learned by now there was no point in reliving the past. And no absolution either.
He gathered the Mylar blanket close to his neck and turned onto his side, facing away from the fire, and let the darkness claim him. But the refuge of sleep betrayed him, and the dream came. Horror swallowed him whole.
EIGHT
A keening cry jerked Hayley awake. She sat up straight, and her stiff muscles complained at the sudden movement. Mack reared onto his haunches with a whine. They both stared at Sean, who thrashed on his bed of pine boughs, letting out wounded groans.
Was he ill? Did he have a fever?
Hayley scrambled forward on all fours and placed her hand against his forehead. The skin was warm but not unnaturally so.
At her touch, Sean lunged into a sitting position. His eyes popped wide, and a yelp exploded from his throat. Hayley scooted backward, and Mack stood on all fours with a bark that subsided into a soft growl. Hayley’s heart pounded against her ribs.
Sean’s chest heaved. Then he seemed to shake himself and the expression of vacant terror faded from his gaze. He blinked at her and Mack. Slowly, lucidity returned to his look.
His squared shoulders slumped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was wake you.”
Hayley huffed. “I’d say the last thing you wanted to do was experience whatever dream was turning you inside out.”
Sean’s mouth quivered in what might have started to be a smile but turned into a frown. “Can’t argue with you there.” His tone was thin as a blade.
The wrenching sadness in his gaze twisted Hayley’s insides. Mack padded forward and swiped his tongue against Sean’s cheek. The man let out a shaky chuckle and ruffled the dog’s fur. With an inexplicable lump in her throat, Hayley turned away and busied herself with feeding a few more logs onto the waning fire. Sean’s dream had to have been about something intensely personal and painful.
She settled close to the blaze and drew her blanket around her shoulders, knees pulled close to her torso. The weathered old cabin didn’t do well at holding the outdoor cold at bay. Occasional wind gusts infiltrated gaps in the wallboards and tousled the flames in the hearth, even as it nipped at exposed skin.
Hayley swiveled toward the ATF agent. He was looking at his watch. A waterproof variety, of course.
“It’s almost five a.m.,” he said. “Since we bedded down around the time the sun went down, we’ve actually had a decent night’s sleep. But it won’t get light out for hours yet, so we’ll have to stay put for a while.”
“I wonder how our pursuers are faring.”
Sean smiled. “I doubt they’re enjoying four walls around them—such as they are.” He gazed around at their rough surroundings.
Hayley managed a light chuckle. “You don’t adore the luxury accommodations?”
“Oh, I do.” Sean grinned and the last of the nightmare shadows fled from his face. “I’d go so far as to call this fancy little shack a lifesaver...and you, too. Thank you. I would have been a goner without you.”
His intense brown gaze burrowed warmth into her heart. She bit her lip against the impulse to ask about the dream that ended their night’s rest. The question would be intrusive, wouldn’t it? Then again, maybe there was something she should know about since they were fleeing for their lives together. Silence fell as Hayley rearranged the burning logs with a stick, sending sparks floating onto the blackened hearthstones and urging the flames to greater heights.
“I’ll tell you,” Sean said softly.
Hayley’s jaw slackened. How did this guy know she had a bad case of the curiosities?
“But I’d like a drink of water first,” he said. “My throat is dry as sandpaper.”
“Mine, too. How about some hot tea and cold breakfast? It’s the best I can do.”
“Hot tea? For real?”
“Yes, tea, since you emphatically don’t drink coffee.” Hayley smirked as she produced a tall, narrow cook pot from her pack and poured water from the canteen into it. Then she set the pot on a rock she’d placed close to the blaze last night before turning in. “Shouldn’t take long for the water to boil, but you surely don’t need to consider tea a bribe for information.”
“It’s okay,” Sean said gently. “You deserve to understand why I have recurring nightmares so you’ll know it’s not something going on inside me that will affect my attentiveness and capabilities while awake.”
“Lots of people have nightmares that plague them and yet go about their lives just fine.” Not that she was about to let him know she was a member of that club. “But your dream must have been pretty intense.”
