17. Toren
Toren
Deke bothered me.
Not on a, he took us hostage and is a terrible person sort of level.
More of a, there was something not right in the man’s head, sort of level.
From our very first interactions with him, his attitude toward everything just didn’t sit right.
He was too settled. Too relaxed. My gut said he had a plan we weren’t privy to.
That meant his next move was coming. It was just a matter of when.
There wasn’t much I could do until he made said move, so I drank my coffee and watched him without looking like I was watching him.
Around six feet tall, Deke was lean, but not slight. He moved with athleticism, which honestly didn’t surprise me. Anyone who spent as much time in the bush as what I suspected he did would have a high level of fitness.
He also appeared to be good at this poaching thing. His clothing was high quality, if a little worn. But you didn’t pitch a Helly Hansen coat because it was a little frayed around the cuffs.
The man also had a fidget that cropped up after we finished breakfast. He kept his gun in his right coat pocket, but from his left, he pulled a Zippo lighter and absently flipped the lid open and closed.
Sitting around, waiting, was getting to him.
Deke flicked the lighter closed with a snap and rose to his feet. “Pack up.”
I frowned, looking up at him. “Pack up? Why? We don’t know where we’re going yet to meet Walker.”
“No, but I’ve got somewhere to be.” Those cold, muddy brown eyes stared out at the forest for a moment before swinging back to us. “Don’t ask questions. Let’s go.”
“How far are we going?” Lana asked, disregarding Deke’s command. She got up.
Deke’s dark brows dipped into a frown, but he answered her. “A couple hours. We’ll be there before your pilot friend calls back.” He withdrew his pistol from his pocket. “Now I mean it. No more questions. Pack up.”
Lana’s eyes cut to me.
I held her gaze for a moment and gave her a small nod, answering her unanswered question of whether we should comply. We didn’t have a choice. Not until we had reinforcements.
Pushing to my feet, I turned to Deke. “Everything? Or are we coming back here?”
“Everything.”
Grabbing my crutch, I used it to point at the tent as I addressed Lana. “Can you start there? I’ll pack up the gear out here.”
As she moved away, I scanned the area and took stock. Food, some of our first aid supplies, and the rope Lana found sat near the fire, beside the larger boulders we’d been using as seats.
Lana shoved the first sleeping bag and bed roll out of the tent, all packaged up and ready to go, five minutes after she went inside.
Deke snorted. “That’s all you’ve done?”
She poked her head out and speared Deke with a look. “This would go faster if you helped.”
He rolled his eyes and went back to scanning the landscape while we worked.
With a huff, she went back into the tent.
He didn’t make another comment, though, while we packed. Just stood there and waited, flipping his lighter open and closed.
Twenty minutes later, we had everything squared away and ready to go.
Lana hefted my pack onto a rock. “Can you carry this?”
Probably not well, but I didn’t have a choice. Deke wasn’t likely to take it, and I didn’t want him to, anyway. It was bad enough he had my phone and my rifle. “I’ll be fine. Help me put it on.”
“Why don’t you take mine? It’s lighter. Or give me some of your gear.”
“No. There’s no reason to make both of us unstable on our feet.”
She frowned but didn’t argue.
After helping me get the straps over my shoulders, she swung her smaller bag onto her back and buckled the straps.
“You two finally ready?”
I looked up from fastening the waist strap on my bag to glare at the man. “Just lead the way.”
Uttering a soft grunt, Deke pushed away from the cave wall. “Go that way.” He pointed northeast through the trees.
Eyeing the bush and the leaden gray sky that looked ready to dump more snow, I set my crutch into the dirt and pushed off.
Thankfully, Deke seemed content to let me lead and set a pace I could hold.
Not slow, but not quick either. I refused to give him the satisfaction of watching me hobble more than necessary, so I didn’t push too hard.
I kept my eyes down, setting the stick before my weight followed, so I didn’t slip.
My ankle didn’t love any of it, but like me, it didn’t have a choice.
Behind me, Lana moved over the uneven forest floor with the same quiet competence as always. With little effort, she kept pace without complaint.
As we walked, one thing became clear about our captor: he knew this country. Well.
He hadn’t pressed us for more details of what we’d seen out here that caused us to set the early warning triggers, but I’d bet my best rifle that camp Lana found was his.
And wherever he was taking us now was a place he’d been before.
I also couldn’t help but wonder if the little cave we found was one he used regularly when the weather was bad.
I did my best to note our heading as we moved through the area.
We’d started out going northeast and were angling more north now as we climbed toward the ridge.
I built the rough map in my head as I walked.
Whether I needed it to get Lana and myself back down the mountain or just to hand the knowledge over to Jesse, so he could gather evidence against this poaching ring, I wanted as much information as possible.
The terrain steepened as we pushed up toward the ridge.
I shortened my stride and leaned into the stick, trying to keep as much weight off my injured foot as possible.
My ankle wasn’t shy about communicating its dislike of the angle and added pressure needed to walk uphill.
I didn’t love it. I didn’t have to love it.
I just had to get to the top and down the other side.
Though I wasn’t looking forward to that trek, either.
I had a feeling going down would be as bad or worse than going up.
Behind me, Lana kept pace, breathing a little harder than down in the valley, but she didn’t complain, just soldiered on. Deke barely broke a sweat.
A narrow path split two granite outcroppings as we crested the ridge, only wide enough for one person at a time. I went first, planting my stick carefully amongst the pile of loose granite slag between the large rock faces, then following with my uninjured foot.
I was nearly through when the quick scramble of boots on wet rock behind me made me pause. Lana’s sharp intake of breath preceded the sound of the flat smack of her hand on the rock face as I turned around.
She had both hands against one of the stones, weight forward over her toes as she pressed against the rock, trying to regain her balance.
I reached back and offered an arm, so she could turn and plant her feet.
She grabbed my forearm, steadied herself, then let go. Three steps and she was through the pass and beside me.
With a quick glance up at my face, our eyes connected. She telegraphed a thank you, then kept walking, Deke hot on her heels.
The descent on the other side wasn’t as bad as I feared, the slope going down and flattening into a wider plain as we dropped into the valley.
It still wasn’t great, but I was able to keep my weight on my good foot and the walking stick more than I’d been able to do so going up. My ankle thanked me.
The only downside was it was slipperier descending, so I had to concentrate more to keep my footing.
I blamed that for how long it took my brain to register the smell floating on the breeze.
Woodsmoke.
I kept my face forward and my pace steady, even as I scanned the forest, searching for the source. Was this the place Deke “needed” to be? Or were we about to walk into some unsuspecting hiker’s camp?
Deke let out a sharp whistle.
When Lana and I glanced back, he wasn’t looking at us, but at a point up ahead and to the left.
“Almost there.” He spared us a quick glance.
I didn’t ask where. My mind was on what we were walking into.