Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“TJ, that ankle’s not looking good,” Rick said as they rested. He had removed his life vest and rolled his wetsuit down to his hips. His helmet now hung from his backpack. They’d been on the move for an hour, but had made little progress.
The Chief sat on the ground opposite his wetsuit unzipped and swollen ankle raised on a log.
Dean, Mike and Ernie had also ditched their safety gear and were in various states of undress.
Rick passed his water bladder to TJ. Sweat was streaming down the Chief’s face, his features contorted with pain.
“We should think about sending guys ahead to get comms and organize an evac. Because at this rate, we’re not going to be back in time for the wedding.”
TJ grabbed his stick and used it to stand. “I can walk.”
“Sure you can, Gandalf. Guys, this isn’t workable. I propose you head up to the spur and find the track. I’ll stay with the Chief and we’ll make our way up slow time.”
Mike shook his head. “We should stay together.”
TJ took a tentative step and grunted. “No. For the first time ever, Rick’s right. I’m not going to be able to walk out anytime soon.”
“You sure?” asked Ernie.
“Yeah, look it’s easy to find the track. Keep heading uphill. Then turn right and follow it down till it hits a road. You should be able to get a call out there or flag someone down. You need to contact Leonie or Ali.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve missed our RV by three hours. They’re going to be a little concerned.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, Ali is going to be stressed if we don’t make contact soon. OK boys, let’s move fast.”
They left Rick and TJ sitting in the shade of a tree and began climbing the steep slope toward the ridgeline. The going was tough, hampered by thick vines and shrubs. Mike led the way, pushing a path through the undergrowth. They’d managed half a mile when he halted for a break.
As they sat, Ernie clawed at the crotch of his wetsuit. “Is anyone else getting chafed?”
“Like a bastard,” said Dean as he fanned his face with his hand. He peered through some bushes and frowned. “Hey, what’s that? Looks like some kind of netting.”
Mike scanned the undergrowth. He didn’t see anything until the wind picked up and he spotted what looked like a camouflage net, flapping in the breeze.
“Might be a camp,” said Dean. “We should check it out.” He pushed into the bushes with Mike and Ernie close behind.
The vegetation suddenly thinned and they found themselves standing in a plantation of tall bright green plants.
Mike looked up and saw that there were camouflage nets strung high in the trees.
“Wow! That’s a lot of weed,” said Dean.
Mike turned to Ernie who wore a concerned expression. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
“It’s a little late for that.”
The voice came from behind them. They turned and found themselves staring into the barrel of a pump-action shotgun. The man that held it wore a denim shirt, dirty jeans and a ten-gallon hat. A fierce scowl adorned his face. “What the hell are you doing in our fields?”
“Look, our raft capsized on the river. We’re hiking out to the track so we can get home.”
The corner of the man’s mouth lifted in a snarl. “Bullshit.”
“Hey, essé we don’t usually go hiking in wetsuits,” snapped Ernie.
His eyes narrowed. “You better come with me.” He used the barrel of the shotgun to direct them through the plantation.
Mike caught Ernie’s eye and the Latino clenched his fist. He shook his head. There were too many variables. They didn’t know if there were other men in the plantation. “Hey bud, we’re not looking for trouble. We just need to find our way out of the woods so I can get to my wedding next week.”
“Yeah, well you’ll have to ask Travis.”
“Who’s Travis?” said Mike as they walked through the marijuana crop.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
The plantation was sizeable. Nothing like the scale of the operations Mike had seen in Afghanistan, but still at least a dozen acres of plants hidden under camouflage netting.
A minute later they arrived at what he guessed was the caretaker’s cabin. It was smaller than TJ’s, run down with a sloping verandah that looked on the verge of collapsing. To one side was a large steel cage with a doghouse inside. He glanced around but couldn’t see any dogs.
“Hold it there,” said their captor. “Travis!” he bellowed.
A thumping sound emanated from the cabin and the door swung open revealing a morbidly obese man wearing coveralls. “Who the fuck are these guys?”
“I found them in the crop.”
Travis scrutinized them through squinted eyes. “They look like cops.”
Mike shook his head. “We’re not cops, we’re rafters who capsized on the river. If you’d point us in the direction of the closest road, we’ll get out of your hair.”
The fat man’s forehead creased as he frowned and pulled a pistol from under his singlet. “Put them in the cage. Carter will know what to do with them.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Mike took a step forward. “You can’t lock people up–” He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and his legs buckled. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was hitting the ground face first.
* * *
The light was fading fast as Jenny pulled her pickup into the parking lot of the ranger station. Ali rode alongside her. “Is the Malinois yours?” she asked as they left the vehicle and walked into the building.
“He’s Mike’s, my fiancé.”
Jenny held the door open for her. “He’s a beautiful dog. I used to have Shepherds when I was a girl.”
Ali’s phone beeped as they walked through the foyer of the log-walled station into the operations room. A single ranger sat behind a bank of computer screens with his feet on the desk.
The message was an update from Maria who was still at the park. The other girls had returned to the resort with Leonie.
“Jenny, that was Maria. The guys still haven’t arrived.”
“OK.” The ranger turned to her colleague. “Ben have we had any news?”
He lowered his feet and checked a screen. “No, nothing since this morning. Some guy called TJ rang in at 0930 to log his rafting trip. Nothing heard since.”
“OK, I think it might be time to contact the Sheriff’s Department.” She reached for a phone and hit a speed dial button.
Ali waited as Jenny spoke to someone on the line passing on the details of the rafting expedition. She tried to reassure herself that Mike and the others were safe. Something may have happened, but Mike and the team were highly trained professionals. What’s more, Rick was an experienced medic. None of it stopped her from worrying.
Jenny wore a glum expression as she returned the phone to its cradle. “Sheriff’s department won’t take any action until they’ve been missing for at least 48 hours.”
“48 hours!”
“Yes, they’re hamstrung by policy. Look, we can’t do a lot tonight. Tomorrow I can organize a helicopter to give the river a once over. That’s if they don’t turn up before then.”
“You sure there’s nothing we can do?”
Jenny placed a hand on her shoulder. “The terrain in there is too rough for vehicles. We’d have to hike in and we can’t do that when it’s dark.”
Ali considered her options. “Can we go at first light?”
“Hike in?”
“Yes, surely there’s a spot where we can start looking.”
Jenny walked across to a map pinned to the wall. “We could hike in to Granite Hut and then down to the five-mile rapids. If they’ve gotten in trouble, that’s where they’ll be.”
“Then that’s where we need to go. I’ll bring Axe, he can find Mike anywhere.”
“OK, if they don’t turn up by dawn we’ll hike in and locate them.” She ran a critical eye over Ali’s summer dress and flats. “You got any outdoor gear?”
“Yes, I came prepared to hike.”
“Good, I’ve got everything else we’ll need. I’ll drop you back at the resort. Ben will call if he gets anything.”
Ali scribbled her number on a slip of paper. “Thank you so much Jenny, you too Ben.”
“It’s all part of the job. I’m sure we’ll find the boys safe and sound tomorrow.”
* * *
Rick pulled his wetsuit back on and sat with his back against a tree, shivering. “Surely they would have made it out by now.”
TJ was sitting a few feet away trying to light a fire using the battery from his cell phone and a chewing gum wrapper. “They’ll have only just reached the road. It might take some time for them to organize a recovery team. I think we’re going to be spending the night here.”
“What! TJ, I’m starving.” He watched as the Chief fiddled with the phone. A glow emitted from his hands and a second later he had a flame. It quickly took to a small ball of dried moss, gaining intensity. TJ fed it branches as it increased in size. Happy it was established he grabbed an energy bar from his pack and tossed it to Rick.
“Thanks, brother.” He snapped off half and made to toss it back.
TJ waved him off as he fed logs into the fire. “I’ve got a few more.”
“OK, so what do we do now?” he asked between mouthfuls.
The Chief inspected a piece of wood carefully and tossed it into the darkness. “Well, you need to find some dry wood, so we don’t freeze to death.”
He finished the bar and climbed to his feet. “That I can do.”
“Don’t go too far, it’s easy to get lost out here.”
“Yes Gandalf, I won’t wander too far into Mirkwood.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Lord of the Rings.”
“The movie?”
“No, the books.” Rick shook his head. “Never mind. OK, I’ll head uphill. At least then I know down is the way back.”
“Good plan. You’re full of surprises tonight.”
Rick laughed. “Because I know how to avoid getting lost?”
“No, I didn’t think you could read. Now go get some wood before this fire burns out.”
Rick grinned. “Asshole.”
He pushed his way through the bushes then waited for his eyes to adjust before searching for dry wood. With so many trees it shouldn’t be that hard. He found a large dead log and started pulling pieces from it. The rotten wood came away in his hand. It was damp and moldy.
Walking another twenty yards up the hill he remembered back to the survival course he’d attended in fleet. One of the instructors had mentioned something about dry bark on the leeward side of trees.
He picked a large elm and searched around the trunk. Sure enough one side of it was completely dry. It took him a few minutes to collect an armful of the thick bark. Then he made his way back to their makeshift camp.
As he got closer he heard voices. He stopped and listened; someone was talking to the Chief. Voices carried in the cold night air. It was two men and they sounded angry.
He lowered the bark and crept forward until he could see the figures in the glow of TJ’s fire.
“Are you alone?” snapped a deep voice.
“My friends went for help. They should be back soon.”
If TJ was lying about Rick being nearby, there was a damn good reason for it. TJ had identified the men as a potential threat.
“What happened to your foot?” asked the voice again.
“I already told you. Our raft flipped and I got caught in the rapids. Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but where I’m from you offer an injured stranger help. Not threats.”
“There’s no help coming for you. We’ve already got your buddies,” said another in a nasal voice.
“Shut up,” the deep voice ordered.
Rick’s heart sank as he realized Mike and the others had been captured. He caught a glimpse of a shotgun in one of the men’s hands.
The deep voice barked again. “Get on your feet. You’re coming with us.”
“I can’t walk.”
“It wasn’t a goddamn question.”
Rick crouched in the darkness with his fists clenched, watching as one of the men hauled the Chief to his feet. The other stood with his weapon held ready.
The way he saw it he had two options. One, he could attack the men and risk them killing TJ, or two, he could follow from a distance and look for an opportunity to free the Chief and the others. He opted for the latter.
* * *
Rick tailed TJ and his captors from a distance. Thankfully the woods were damp and he was able to move silently through the bushes and vines.
They pushed the Chief into a thick grove of plants. It wasn’t till he was among them that the pungent smell of marijuana filled his nostrils. “Holy shit, pot growing rednecks,” he whispered.
He crept through the field, following the voices of the men as they yelled for the injured SEAL to move faster. Soon he saw lights from a dwelling.
Lowering to his stomach he crawled forward till he spotted a low-slung cabin. There was a large metal cage to one side of it and in the glow of the single bulb under the verandah he spotted Ernie, Dean and Mike. They were locked inside. “Fuck.”
The two men directed the Chief to sit on the cabin’s deck. Then the front door opened and a horrendously overweight man waddled out. He reminded Rick of a redneck version of the Star Wars character, Jabba the Hutt.
“What the hell, another cop?” the man bellowed. “Carter is going to lose his shit.”
Rick made a mental note of the name.
“Put him in the cage with the others.”
He watched as they manhandled TJ into the cage and locked it with a thick chain.
“You keep watch. I’m going to call Carter.” Jabba waddled back inside.
Rick now knew there was a phone in the cabin. He just needed to come up with a plan to lure the yokels away, immobilize Jabba, and free the guys. Not too hard a job for a SEAL.
“Hey, you guys better let us go!” The voice was Dean’s. He stood, gripping the bars. “These guys are Navy SEALs and there’s still another one out there.”
“Dean, shut the hell up,” mouthed Rick as Mike grabbed his brother and silenced him.
The taller of the two, with the deep voice, strode across to the makeshift prison and aimed his shotgun at them. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, shut the hell up.”
The second man bashed on the door of the cabin. “Travis, there’s another one out there.”
Jabba reappeared and stared out into the plantation with beady eyes. “Carter’s sending up the boys. If there’s another one we’ll find him.”
Rick’s heart skipped a beat. He needed to get the hell out of the park and find help ASAP. He wiggled backward into the plantation. First things first he had to orientate himself and locate the track out of the park. Pushing out of the dope farm into a clearing he searched the sky. Finding the big dipper he traced a line through the top two stars to the North Star. Now at least he knew which way to go.