Chapter 37
Steph
The shelf approach was steeper than it looked. Steeper and narrower.
Steph pressed herself against the face and took a careful step. The sound of the machines increased in the last few seconds. She needed to get into position and call for Jack, warn him about the steep grade before the poachers came out of the trees and saw them.
She let out a breath. No. That wasn’t the right way to think.
They wanted to be seen. They needed them to know they were up in the rocks and that the only way to get them was to climb. Jack seemed certain they both wouldn’t come.
Steph hadn’t interacted with the men the way Jack had, but she tended to agree. From watching them at the camp, the younger one was set to follow orders. To do the work. Even if the work involved hunting down and killing innocent people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Steph stepped carefully across a narrow part with a sheer cliff on the other side.
The crossing was only about six feet, but still concerning.
As she made it to a wider area, she began to breathe easier.
This section was not only easier to maneuver across, but because of the way the rock shifted, she was completely out of view until someone was right on the ledge. Exactly what she’d hoped to find.
She controlled her breathing and kept moving, searching for the perfect place to wait.
Everything she’d learned across years of wilderness training and self-sufficiency certifications and leading people through conditions that required clear thinking had been building toward something; she’d always believed that.
She’d told her students the same thing in different words with each class. You don’t know which moment will require everything you have. You build the skills before you need them, because when you need them, there’s no time to build.
She needed them now. Jack would need those same skills.
No. Not the same skills. Skills that were uniquely his. Skills and knowledge he learned through years of training. The way he could ski at top speed and then somehow control his breathing and heart rate to shoot a rifle. That was a necessary skill for their situation.
Combine that with his ability to handle the brutal cold and the snow they’d been facing over the past fifteen or so hours, almost half of that time running for their lives, and his tolerance for pain—it was all necessary.
Steph could only imagine how much Jack hurt. His feet. His wrists. His entire body. She was sore, too, and she hadn’t been tied up and forced to run barefoot through the snow.
She made a short climb to a ledge that had a waist-high rock on it.
This looks like it might be a good place to wait out the poachers.
It was a flat section with higher rocks around it, creating almost a bowl.
The best part was there was an opening at the back.
From there, they could go deeper into the formation and maybe even come out the other side.
As she got into position, she checked the view. It was perfect and would put anyone on approach basically in the bullseye.
Into position, she softly called out, “Jack, I’m here.”
“Understood,” his voice floated back to her. “They’re almost out of the trees.”
Her heart rate picked up, suddenly thinking this was a bad idea. “Don’t wait. Just come and get in position.”
“They need to see me.”
Steph blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears and her nose stung. “It’s steep, so watch your footing. And you’ll need to really maintain your balance where it narrows.”
“Got it.”
“And the bend is super tight. Pivot with your hips.”
“Okay.”
“And— ”
“Thirty seconds and I’ll be moving.”
She pursed her lips as she shook her head. Thirty seconds. The sound of the machines shifted, the engines revving up. They were out of the trees and on approach. Had they seen Jack? She didn’t know, but she did know he’d make sure they did before he reached her.
Steph took the beacon from her pocket. Still no updates from the rescue team.
“Is this stupid thing broken?” she muttered as she typed.
Hidden in the rocks on the north side of the highway.
GPS appears to be transmitting. Please acknowledge and update rescue time.
Armed men are still pursuing us. Beware on approach.
“It’s time,” Jack called. “Make sure you’re hidden.”
“I’m good.”
Within seconds, Jack came into view, rifle tucked under his right arm and his left arm out for balance as he reached the narrow path. A rock above him poofed, sending debris falling as a gunshot echoed through the tight space. Jack flinched, his left arm windmilling as his balance was compromised.
“Jack!”
He miraculously recovered and was moving again as another shot came in, hitting the rock to his left. The ricochet sent bits of rock flying.
Jack was still moving, almost out of the narrow section and around the bend, when another shot sounded. He yanked his arm in toward himself and let out a yelp.
“C’mon! You’re almost here.”
He rounded the curve and kept coming toward her as another shot came through the narrows, this one too late to do any harm. The area she hid in was out of the line of fire, and Jack was behind the rock face.
His face was pinched, and blood was running down his left arm.
“Jack, come on,” she urged as she moved back so he could get into the safety of the rock bowl.
As he got into position, she asked, “Were you shot?”
He looked at his sleeve. The woolen base layer was sliced open, and blood covered the white fabric.
“I think it was a ricochet. Hit the wall first and then hit me. I was almost out of range.”
“That’s not what it looked like from here,” Steph said, already opening her backpack and grabbing the first aid kit.
“We need to get ready.” Jack moved over to where he had a straight-on view of the narrows.
“You get ready. I’m going to put something around your arm to stop the bleeding.”
“Steph— ”
“I can still hear both machines. Both are still moving. We have time.”
Jack sighed. “Fine. Do it.”
“Jeez. You act like me wanting you not to bleed to death is a federal offense.”
He smiled. “Not a federal offense. And you’re right.” He adjusted his position to allow the rifle to lie steadily across the rocks as he held it with his right hand.
Steph ripped his undershirt open at the cut. The wound was a perfect slice, like something done by a knife instead of a bullet. Steph had her Wilderness First Responder cert, which included Stop the Bleed and other trauma care, including immediate gunshot wound treatment.
Not that she’d ever seen a GSW in real life. Only videos and photos for the classes as they went over how to treat what they were seeing.
But it was obvious this wasn’t a penetrating wound. It was bleeding heavily and had gone through the meaty part of his outer bicep, and no doubt hurt like the dickens, but she didn’t think there was bone or artery involved. She pulled out a compression bandage and applied it over the shirt.
“Your cheek’s bleeding too.” She grabbed a package of ointment and a gauze square. “Rock shrapnel hit you.”
“Yeah. It stings.”
She dabbed at the cut, cleaning it with gauze. “I’m going to put a bandage on it.”
As she finished, the sound of the snowmobiles changed to an idle. They were there, at the base of the rocks.
Jack looked in her direction.
She shook her head. “Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe they’re both coming.”
Meeting her gaze, he gave a nod. “They might.”