Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
“ L ance, it’s getting dark, man. They’re never going to see the bandana you hung up.”
Fuck him. Why hadn’t someone found them yet? He had to stay calm, because the thread of panic in Chris’s voice was becoming a big fat chunky piece of yarn. “All right, well, they’re coming. You know that they are.”
They hadn’t gone that far out from the ranch house, but he had no way to know what that meant in practical terms.
He was worried about Boone. He was alive, no question, still breathing, warm, but out. Like completely unconscious, and given the situation they were in, that might be for the best.
Better out and quiet than serious brain injury and screaming or puking.
Not only that, it was cold.
Not like fixin’-to-snow cold, but between the sleet and the hail and the rain, and now the coming dark it was pretty fucking uncomfortable. They were soaked to the bone and shivering, and they had to keep Boone warm, so they ended up pressing together to share heat .
He was beginning to worry that Chris was going into shock—even if Chris didn’t feel that broken ankle, his body knew it was broken, and God knew what kind of toxins were being released, and Lance couldn’t see to tell. “Wanna split the granola bar?”
Distraction was his friend.
“I don’t know; I think it’ll just make us thirsty.” Chris blew out a hard breath, and Lance heard his belly rumble.
“Did you put that empty bottle out where the rain could fill it up?”
“I did. I got about half a bottle…”
“It’s not Perrier, but it’s going to be way cleaner than anything that we get out of any kind of stream.” He patted Chris’s hand. “We didn’t go far. Not much more than an hour, they’re going to find us.”
Chris started calling out again, hollering over and over.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!”
He tuned the sound out, trying to think about their next move, so to speak.
They had the blankets, and they could cuddle with Boone if they had to.
They had matches in that weird little first aid kit.
And he was beginning to think about crawling around and seeing if there was some dead fall underneath the trees that wasn’t soaked.
They needed something where they could make a little fire, which would warm them up, but more importantly it would give a beacon some way for anybody to see them.
“Hey, Chris!” He interrupted the yelling. “How dark is it?”
“It’s getting dark, but it’s not pitch black yet or anything.”
He could work with that. “So you can help me. I want to try to find some dry wood.”
“Do you think it’s going to be a thing? Oh man, this isn’t a forest. It’s just like this little group of trees, and it’s pretty, damned wet, um…
” He heard Chris’s body shift on the leaves.
So that was what squelching sounded like.
“I guess, I mean, maybe if you dug underneath some of these leaves that are piled around the bases of the trees…”
“How many trees? Like five? Ten? Twenty? Fifty?”
“Think more like…three.”
“Three?”
“Yep, like three. Three trees. That’s about what there is. In fact, that’s exactly how many. Three wet trees.”
“That’s not super helpful.” He winked, not sure if Chris could even see him.
“Nope. I mean…” Chris was breathing hard, and Lance realized he was in physical distress.
“Hey, no big. Seriously. Come on, let’s eat that granola bar. We can pour your water into my bottle and then start gathering again.”
“Okay. Okay, I’m?—”
“Breathe, sailor. In and out.” He was going to have to find some dry-ish wood. He didn’t have a choice.
They needed to keep themselves, and Boone as warm as possible… And send that damn beacon through the dark.
The baying would have awakened the dead.
Abby was barking right along, but Maynard would put his head down and scent, then bay and run.
Sloan and Stan followed, trying to stay back enough not to foul the trail with fuel smells, but Maynard was steady. Sure. He shot off in a straight line, heading into the interior of the ranch.
And then at some point, he took a right turn. Like boom. Moving on a whole new heading. Abby ran along behind him, barking like a fiend, and he hoped the guys weren’t shouting for them. They’d never hear it between the motors and the dogs.
Maynard’s bays got more and more hysterical, and Stan called out. “Does that mean they have something?”
“Yeah. Yeah, just keep following. He’s on a trail.”
At least he hoped so. Maynard wasn’t acting like a flunked-out scent hound.
The rain had stopped altogether, and the dark was pushing all of the light out of the day when Abby alerted, bouncing toward him so fast that he had to stop on a dime or hit her. He waved at Stan to turn off his engine too.
“Lance! Lance? Report soldier!”
“Not Lance!” A truncated arm started waving, moving furiously in the receding light. “But I need help!”
Fuck.
Fuck.
It was Brick, and he was alone.
“Were you with Lance?”
He stepped out as Maynard and Abby spun around Brick, splashing and pushing the man toward the four-wheelers.
“I was. But I was hunting a cell tower. My phone ran out of battery.”
“Good boy! Good boy, Maynard! You did it! Good boy!” If he praised Maynard now, he had a better chance of finding Lance later. He pulled a treat out of his pocket where he’d shoved a handful. “Where are they? Is anyone hurt?” He hopped out and started moving Brick to sit on Stan’s four-wheeler.
“Boone was knocked out. We lost all the horses. Lance and Chris seemed fine, really. Just bounced around.” Brick sat hard on the seat, shivering violently.
“We need to get him back,” Stan said.
Sloan frowned. “We need to find the others.”
“I can point you in the direction I came from. I didn’t get the damn coordinates because I needed service to do that.”
“I know we said buddy system,” Sloan told Stan. “But you need to get Brick back before he goes into shock. I’ll keep on with the dogs. I have my radio and the walkie.”
“Okay, but take both emergency packs.”
Sloan nodded, but dug into one and pulled out a Capri Sun. “The sugar will help, Brick. Drink it all down.” He stabbed the pack with the straw because Brick only had one hand now.
Speaking of. “Here’s your hand. I needed it for the dogs to scent.”
“Thanks. They’re back that way… Maybe two and a half klicks. If you get to the stream, turn south and go along the creek. They’re in a small copse of trees right on the bank.”
“Got it.” That he could do. “Okay, you two go. I’ll call it in to Luke.”
“We’re going.” Stan gave him a look. “Be safe, dammit.”
“I will.” He called in on the walkie.
“Sloan. What have you got?”
“Brick. He’s headed in with Stan. I am going west and south. Brick says they’re at the creek.” He gave Luke his coordinates to give to Matt. “But I’ll be on the move.”
“Okay. Okay, I’m on my way.”
“Come on, dogs. Up.” He needed to motor, and he’d put the dogs out once they got to the creek.
They hopped up, and he rubbed two sets of ears, praising them both.
Maynard was wagging like a fool, but Abby was still grumpy as hell.
“I know. Me too. We’re going to find him.”
He could see the lights from Matt’s ATV across the way. It was bigger and could hold any injured.
Matt rolled up and they both turned toward the back of the property, and Sloan felt like gunning it, but he’d just get bogged down if he didn’t keep an eye on the small patch of terrain illuminated by the lights. Dammit, where was Lance?
Chris had stopped yelling a little while ago.
Together, he and Lance had started a pitiful fire, but Chris had moved to snuggle with Boone when Boone started trembling too.
Lance was doing okay, really. The fire was still mostly going, and he was mostly not freaking the fuck out.
Lance knew, by now, the whole ranch was hunting for them, so he didn’t have to worry. He had to keep his patients alive and be patient.
He hated being patient.
Also, he missed his dog.
He needed Abby there, because he could tell her to go home, and she’d be warm and brave and solid with him and do what needed to be done.
A new sound hit his ears, and he tilted his head, hunting its source. Maybe another wave of storm? Shit, what if he was fixin’ to get his ass run over by a tornado, or maybe a flash flood was sweeping along the creek.
Then he heard the hellacious bay of a big old hound.
“MAYNARD! ABBY! I’M HERE!” He wasn’t a little man, and there was nothing wrong with his voice. “I HAVE WOUNDED! MAYDAY!”
Abby’s furious barking joined Maynard’s baying, and they were getting closer. The sound was so welcome, and so damn close.
“Come on, pups! Come on!”
Chris popped up to sitting like a jack-in-the-box, shouting out too. “Maynard! Find me, buddy! Find Chris! ”
Abby hit him like a freight train, her solid body welcome and warm.
“Oh, Abby. Good girl. Good dog. Such a good dog.” He hid his face in her neck, breathing in her familiar scent.
Maynard ran to him, then to Chris, panting, tail wagging a mile a minute. Two ATVs pulled up then, the engines roaring until they were cut.
“Good boy, Maynard! Good boy!” Sloan’s high-pitched praise of his dog made Lance sag with relief. “Lance! Lance, what’s the sitrep?” He knew his Sloan. His soldier would secure the area. Then fall apart and love on him.
“We got two wounded. Boone is still unconscious, and Chris has an injured ankle. Can y’all get medical out here?”
“Motherfucker!” Matt was on the ground, patting Boone’s cheeks. “Boone. Man, wake up for me, won’t you? Come on.”
“Don’t—”
“Boss?” Boone’s voice was blown out, hoarse and groggy.
“Yeah. Yeah, buddy. I got you.”
“I’m s-so cold.” Boone was awake, though, hallelujah. Lance might just make it knowing that.
“I don’t think the bus can make it out here, honey,” Sloan told him. “We’ll have to meet them at the barns. You think it’s safe to move them? If it’s not, we can get some more vehicles out here with the EMTs and get some backboards.”
“Chris for sure. Boone, I need to check you out.” He didn’t want to wait if he didn’t have to.
“I’m not waiting here.” Boone sat up, pushing him back on his butt. “What the hell happened to the horses?”
“They ran off a few hours ago.”
“‘A few hours’?” Boone’s voice rose with surprise.
“Can someone take them to the EMTs? Now? If I have to, I’ll wait here.” He wasn’t alone. He had Abby.
“You can ride with me, Lance. There’s room for you and the dogs. Matt has room for Chris and Boone. You might have to hold Abby mostly in your lap.”
Oh thank God.
“If you’re sure. Someone needs to check Chris for shock and a broken ankle.”
“I’m on it.” Matt was clearly moving Boone, but then he was back. “Sloan, help me lift Chris in a cradle carry.”
“You got it. Lance, stay put.”
“I’ll put out the fire. Plenty of wet goo.”
“Just be careful.”
Well, at least Sloan wasn’t telling him not to.
He got a stick and started scattering the fire around him. It wasn’t as if it was a big blaze. It was at best a little weeny fire, but it had done its job.
Somebody had at least seen them.
By the time Sloan stomped back and touched his shoulder, the fire was, he thought, out. It wasn’t hot anymore, although there was some lingering warmth, so he hoped it was safe.
“Give me that water bottle, I’ll fill it up there with some creek water and just make sure it’s out all the way. The last thing we need is some kind of weird-assed smoldering grass fire.” Oh man, Sloan sounded mad.
Lance didn’t say anything though, he just nodded, and then he stood, handing the bottle over. “Yeah.”
He found the first emergency blanket and started folding it up. He assumed the second one had gone with either Chris or Boone.
Abby was stuck fast to his leg as if she was saying, no dad, you left me once, you’re not doing it again.
On the other hand, Maynard was there sort of bebopping around and splashing. “I think he’s in the creek.”
“He’s in the creek.” Sloan came over, pouring the water over the remains of his baby fire. “He’s very happy. He had two finds in a row. He is the king of the ranch right this second.”
“Do you have a search and rescue dog in him?”
“You know, I might just at that, babe. Are you ready to go?”
God, was he. “Did I get everything cleaned up?”
“Yeah,” Sloan put a hand on his wrist. “Take my arm, and we’ll hit the trail.”
“Yeah.” He was cold and thirsty, exhausted, and he wanted to go home. “Did someone find Brick? Brick’s arm?”
“The arm was still attached to the horse. Then Maynard used it to find Brick. And that’s how we found you.” He could hear the strain in Sloan’s voice as he climbed onto the ATV with Addy. Maynard hopped up and breathed right in his ear.
“Such a good boy, Maynard. Did you use your nose like a hound dog? You guys are so good.” And he was so glad to be off the wet ground.
“Hang on, honey.” Sloan took off after Matt, and he leaned his head back against the seat. closing his eyes.
The situation had sucked. Giant donkey balls.
But it could have been so much worse.