Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cold rain seeps into my jacket as I weave past sodden trees and climb over downed logs, using the creek like a handrail to guide me up the basin.
Icy meltwater has long since soaked through my boots and jeans, which are molded to my thighs like a second skin.
Not that I’d let those minor annoyances slow me down.
I can’t think too hard about parting ways with Rowdy. Not when Linnea could be in danger and there’s not a single moment to waste in finding her.
That day I dispatched that injured doe on the side of the highway, I remember the way Linnea stood tall, her lip quivering. I’m tough.
Long before then, I knew that was true. And brave.
I just need you to hold on a little longer, baby. I’m going to find you.
Lightning flashes from the west, disorienting me. Shouldn’t the valley be narrowing by now? Have I somehow gone too far?
The thunder comes quicker this time, and louder, the vibration humming in my cheekbones.
When I tuck my flashlight under my arm and check the photo of the topographic map, the light from my screen illuminates my heaving breaths, making little clouds. It’s good I’m moving. Otherwise, in this cold damp, I could easily become hypothermic.
Little Elk Creek flows from the Bitterroots into the Elk River just north of Gibbs and is separated from the Sons of Eden property by a rocky ridge. It’s impossible to tell how close I am in the dark, but when the valley narrows, I’ll head north, over the ridge, and hopefully drop down to the farm.
From there, I’ll need to get onto the grounds without being detected.
Are they out patrolling in this weather? In the dark?
When Rowdy and I visited, I didn’t notice any fancy security features—no alarm systems or cameras. But if they suspect children are trying to escape, that might have already changed. Do they know they’re being watched by a multi-agency task force?
My boots squelch in the soft ground, sinking to the laces, and the creek bed has narrowed. I’m getting closer.
I silence my phone so when I re-enter coverage, it doesn’t start making noises. Because I have no doubt that Rowdy and probably plenty of other people are going to try to talk me out of this.
Yeah, it’s reckless. And Rowdy’s right. It jeopardizes a powerful opportunity to stop these fuckers once and for all.
But there’s no world I want to live in that doesn’t include Linnea.
I’m sure Rowdy feels that way too. So why isn’t he here?
Leaving the soggy creek bed, I weave through the dense aspens, my hands in front of my face to shield me from low-hanging branches. My progress slows, adding to my growing frustration.
I try to engage my mind. What will I do when I get there? Where will I check first? Do I try to reach Rowdy, so he knows my plan? Or stay dark?
No matter what, I can’t risk getting discovered. Not just for my own survival, but because of what they might do to Linnea as a result. And how that might hurt the others. Kids like McKenzie and Gweneth.
Though I was trained in law enforcement, I’m no secret agent, skilled in evasive techniques.
All I have is my unyielding determination, my experience, and hopefully, a bit of luck.
There’s no room for doubt. Or failure.
I will find her, then get us both out alive.