10. Toren
Toren
The tent flap zipped shut behind Lana with a soft snick, leaving me alone with the snap of the nylon tent wall flapping in the wind and the soft crackle of the fire outside.
I sat there for a moment, letting my mind and body process what just happened. Now that I was stationary and safe, the pain I’d been feeling had increased two-fold and shown up in areas that hadn’t hurt on the rocks.
My chest felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it—but I could breathe without too much pain, so that was promising. My ankle throbbed beneath the wrap Lana put on it, and two of the fingers on my left hand now told me something wasn’t right with them.
I decided to deal with them first. I pulled the glove off my right hand with my teeth, then slowly, removed the glove from my left. A quick hiss of air escaped my clenched teeth as the heavy fabric slid off my hand.
With the glove off, I could see the damage. My ring finger and my pinky were both swollen and turning a lovely shade of deep purple between the first and second knuckles, and the tip of my pinky was slightly askew.
“Well, shit,” I muttered. The pinky was dislocated as well as probably broken.
I curled my fingers but only made it a fraction of an inch before a shard of white-hot fire raced through them and down the back of my hand.
Not doing that again.
Taking several deep breaths, I dug around in Lana’s pack until I found a small flashlight.
With a click of the button on the end, the light turned on, and I shone it on my hand to get a good look at it in the tent’s dim interior.
My pinky nailbed was a little paler than I liked.
Likely, the displaced bones were pinching off blood flow. It needed straightened.
Oh, I didn’t want to do this.
Muscles in my jaw shifted as my teeth clenched at the thought of how much fixing the dislocation would hurt.
“Just get on with it, McCrae,” I muttered.
Sitting here, moaning about it wouldn’t fix the problem and would only delay the pain. Hell, fixing it might actually make it feel a little better.
I set the flashlight down and cupped my right hand over the outside of my left one, hovering millimeters away. Inhaling a deep breath, I grasped my finger and pulled.
“Ah, fuck!” The words came out on a harsh shout and ended on a groan. Pulses of pain throbbed through my hand for several seconds. Sweat popped out on my face, then slowly, the pain ebbed. Heat poured into the end of my pinky, making it throb in a different way.
I glanced at it, then shone the light on it again. It wasn’t as pale as before.
Thank. God. The pain had been worth it.
Digging into the med kit, I found some tape and tore a strip off and buddy-taped my fingers together near the base, then did the same closer to the top. It wasn’t perfect or ideal, but it would do for now.
With my hand taken care of, I stripped out of my jacket, wincing as the movement pulled at my ribcage. That pain, thankfully, had lessened since I got up from the rocks, giving me hope it was just a terrible bruise.
Lifting my left arm a bit, I slid my good hand under my shirt and pushed the fabric over my elbow and slipped my arm free, being careful of my bandaged fingers. With the left side of my chest exposed, I shone the light on myself and looked down.
Like my fingers, dark purple bruising mottled my skin.
Gingerly, I probed the area. The sharp sting of a deep bruise erupted at my touch, but I couldn’t feel anything deeper shift or crunch.
A bit of my worry about my injuries faded at that knowledge. Hiking with a bum ankle to a location where Walker could land and pick us up was bad enough, but broken ribs would have made it almost impossible. The improvement also gave me hope I could go out and look for Lana if I needed to.
I hoped I didn’t need to. Not because I didn’t want to, but because if I had to, that meant both of us were likely injured, creating more complications.
I threaded my arm back into my sleeve and blew out a breath.
God, I was such an idiot. I knew better than to get careless on wet, moss-covered rocks. But my mind had been on the bear carcasses and who could be responsible, not on putting one foot in front of the other as I made my way over the rocky landscape.
It was a good thing Lana kept her head and came up with a plan to get me out of that little crevice and back to camp, or I could still be out there.
I dug into the med kit again, looking for the acetaminophen this time. I only took two ibuprofen and planned to take another two in four hours. The acetaminophen would help get on top of things for now. I hoped.
Once I’d done all I could for myself with what I had on hand, I took out the satellite phone from my jacket pocket. Hopefully, I could get a signal in this weather.
Powering it on, the signal indicator lit up with two bars. Not great, but I should be able to get through to someone.
I dialed the Fish and Game warden, Jesse Wakefield’s, number first.
He answered on the third ring. “Wakefield.”
“Jesse, it’s Toren.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“So, I’m up in the Lace River area, searching for a missing hunter and?—”
“Missing hunter?” His tone sharpened as he interrupted me. “Who? I haven’t seen anything on anyone lost.”
“That’s because it hasn’t been reported through official channels yet. He’s not due back until Thursday. Do you know Lana Decker?”
“No. Who’s that?”
“A wedding planner. One of her brides came to her, asking if she knew anyone who could go look for her fiancé. He went hunting and had been regularly checking in, then stopped. She got worried.”
“Why didn’t she go to the cops? Why didn’t you?”
“Lana and her bride didn’t think they’d get taken too seriously. The guy is an experienced hunter and still had days left before he was supposed to return. You know how spotty coverage can be up here.”
“And that convinced you to go look for him?” Skepticism colored his voice.
“It was enough.” That and other reasons I wasn’t keen on putting into words.
To him or to myself. “But I’m not calling about the hunter.
” I paused as I realized someone else would need to come up here and look for Dustin now that I couldn’t walk well.
“Well, not completely. We found evidence of poaching while we searched. Two black bear carcasses, missing their paws, and all the meat left on to rot. I’ve got coordinates. ”
Jesse let out a low whistle. “You only found two, you said?”
“Yeah. They’re only a few days old, and they were in close proximity to each other.
I’m betting there are more. I haven’t seen a single bear today, or even any fresh sign.
” That had been another thing rolling through my mind as I crossed that rocky patch.
I should have seen fresh scat and other signs of hungry, fresh out of hibernation bears, and I hadn’t.
“Okay. Can you text me the coordinates? I’ll get in there once the weather clears.”
“Any idea when that’ll be?” I lifted my hand, staring at my taped fingers. “Lana and I need a ride earlier than expected.”
Jesse was silent for a moment. “You took the wedding planner with you?”
His incredulous tone told me what he thought of that.
“What happened? Did she get hurt?” he continued.
“No. She’s actually been rather resourceful and tough. I was a dumbass and wasn’t paying attention to my footing. I slid and fell between some boulders. I’ve got a badly sprained ankle, two broken fingers, and some bruised ribs.”
“Well, hell, man. Are you in a safe spot, at least? This system is only getting started.”
“Yeah. Luckily, we set up camp before we scoped out the part of the riverbank where I fell, so I’m mostly dry, and we have a fire. Lana went back to get my pack. Hopefully, I don’t need to go looking for her.”
“No. You stay put. If she’s not back in a reasonable amount of time, call me again. I’ll do what I can to get in there.”
“That’s good, but I still won’t leave her out there, exposed to the elements. She doesn’t have any gear unless she gets to my bag.” I’d find a stick and fashion it into a crutch, risking splinters in my hand and armpit before I would leave her out there by herself.
Jesse sighed. “Don’t be stubborn, Toren.”
A low chuckle emanated from my chest. “Too late. Listen, the poachers aren’t my only concern. We’ve seen some sign of the missing hunter, Dustin. I don’t know his last name. He’s supposed to be alone, but I’ve seen at least two other sets of prints directly on top of his.”
“Hell,” Jesse muttered. “You think they’re following him, don’t you?”
“It’s highly likely, yes.” The more we walked, and the more prints I saw, the more worried I’d become that the poachers were tracking not just bears, but Dustin. Whether that was to take advantage of his skills at tracking bears or to eliminate a potential threat, I didn’t know.
“Okay. I’ll get a crew together and talk to the local authorities. As soon as we get a weather window, we’ll head up there. Text me those coordinates.”
“As soon as we hang up, I will. I’m going to call Walker Marlowe, too, and put him on standby to come get us.”
“Good deal. Holler if you need anything. I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks, Jesse.”
“No problem. Stay safe.”
Muttering a goodbye, I hung up, then texted Jesse the coordinates I logged earlier.
Once that was done, I dialed Walker’s number.
Like Jesse, he picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Walker, it’s Toren. So, I know the weather sucks, but how soon can you get out here?”
Walker let out a quick snort. “At least a day. We’re socked in down here with some crazy winds, and there’s snow coming down further north. If you’re not seeing that yet, you will soon.”
I muttered a curse.
“What’s the problem? Did you find the missing hunter? Is he hurt?”
“No, but I am.” My mouth flattened. “I took a fall on some rocks and busted up my hand and sprained an ankle. I can hobble, and that’s about it. It’s ended our search mission.”
“Damn. Are you and Lana safe? And dry?”
“Safe, yes. Dry, well, mostly. We found a shallow cave and set up the tent there. We just need to dry out from the hike.”