Chapter 12 #2
“Bodie said Eli and one of the state cops were out here dealing with a tractor incident. Makes sense it might be off the main thoroughfare. But, we should take a look so you can tear Eli a new one for scaring you.”
She drew herself up. “I’m not scared.”
“That makes one of us.”
Chase eased the SUV forward, bumping along the rutted track. Gravel kicked against the undercarriage before they slowed to a halt twenty feet back. The lone sedan sat off to the right, driver’s door yawned open. Interior light gleaming yellow against the mist.
Greer scoured the area before slowly stepping out, weapon drawn. Chase followed suit, the Bronco lighting up the fog just like it had that night at the psychiatric hospital. Bringing all those memories flooding back.
How eerily familiar this felt.
Chase joined her at the front of her vehicle, scanning the area again as the cruiser’s engine ticked in the background, the cooling fan whining from the strain before abruptly shutting off.
He nodded at the rear end. “Trunk’s cracked open.”
Greer wet her lips, a brief frown curving her mouth before she inhaled — removed any trace of emotion from her face. She pointed at the wedge of space. “Guess we check there, first.”
They walked over, guns at the ready, turning a full three-sixty, before Chase grabbed the edge — mouthed a countdown. Greer backed up a bit, muzzle aimed at the trunk as he tossed it open, the large metal hatch blocking out the flashing blues.
The Bronco’s headlights cast deep shadows in the large space, a hint of the jack peeking out from beneath a first aid kit. The flare box laid open, a handful scattered around the trunk.
Chase made a few hand signals, staying left as she veered around to the passenger side. They closed the distance in sync, peering into the back — bouncing the circular beams around the interior before continuing to the front. Greer opened the opposite door, sending a swirl of air through the cab.
The radio mic dangled from the rearview, the frayed cord sliced halfway down its length. The radiator hissed out front, steam slowly rising from the hood as the car’s spotlight illuminated a circle of trees off in the distance, dust motes flickering in the bright light.
Chase nodded at the camera mounted on the dash. “Dashcam’s set to record. Interior’s warm. We must have just missed him.”
Greer pulled back. “Missed him going where?”
“No idea.” He paused as his beam caught something dark smeared across the outer pillar. “Shit. I’ve got a bloody handprint.”
She darted around to his side, stared at the mark before bouncing her light across the gravel. “There’s a drop beside the tire. Three more heading toward that patch of woods lit up by his spotlight.”
“Maybe he hit an animal, but it took off, so he followed after it.”
“God, I hope so.” She grabbed her radio off her belt. “Bodie, Jordan. Anyone copy?”
A burst of static crackled over the airwaves, a muffled voice starting and stopping in the background.
She tried again — got the same unsettling response.
Chase palmed his cell. “No bars.”
“He wouldn’t go far. He doesn’t even know his way around up here.”
“We’ll look for tracks. Follow if we can. Or we can backtrack until we get a signal, though, cell coverage is spotty up here, at best.”
“He might not have time for us to backtrack.” She motioned toward her Bronco. “You might want to grab your kit. And the shotgun in the rack. Code’s your birthday — month, then day.”
“I’d consider that romantic if the circumstances were different.”
Chase raced back to the vehicle, slipped on his vest, then grabbed a bunch of gear and met her in front of the cruiser. He handed her a vest and the shotgun, tossing his medic bag across his back. “Point or sweep, sweetheart?”
She eyed him. “Are you going to stroke out if I take point? Because I’d feel infinitely safer knowing you have my six.”
“I’ll always have your six, but I’ll be fine, just… watch your step. No telling what this might be. For all we know, it’s a setup, and Eli’s not even involved.”
“Something tells me we won’t be that lucky. Not that an ambush’s lucky, but…”
He understood what she’d meant. Having their lives on the line was one thing. Involving others…
Chase fell in behind her as they picked their way across the grassy field, listening for any suggestion of trouble. Coyotes kicked up a chorus somewhere uphill as an owl dropped silently across their path, snatching something off the ground before vanishing into the night.
Greer stopped halfway through the field, pointing to a patch of ground. “That’s his badge.”
Chase closed in behind her, staring at the shield glinting in the yellow beam. “We’ll leave it for now.”
In case it’s evidence…
He didn’t voice his concerns out loud, but based on the slight slump of her shoulders, the rough exhale of breath, she already knew.
She glanced back at him. “Should we try calling his name?”
“It’ll out us but… It’s worth a shot.”
“Elijah!” Her voice carried across the field, the massive trees throwing it back at her.
Chase scanned the tree line, but the beam only caught the mist — bleaching everything into a nauseating white.
They waited, breath held, the oppressive darkness crushing in around them.
A faint chirp.
Definitely mechanical. Like a beacon from a radio. They veered right, stopping at the edge of the field.
Chase went to one knee, tracing a faint boot print in the dirt. “I’ve got a partial print. Pine needles are kicked up all around. And there’s a crushed fern. Someone definitely walked this way recently.”
She nodded. “Fog’s getting thicker. We’ll have to dial back the wattage, or we’ll end up blinding ourselves.”
He toned down the flashlight, following her along a patchy trail until they reached an obvious fork. One curved down toward what he thought was a creek. The other continued upward, winding along a short embankment.
He tapped her on the shoulder. “Wait here for a second.”
Chase darted up the embankment, searching for more prints before doubling back — heading toward the creek. A deeper imprint compressed the dirt several feet in, what looked like someone tripping their way along the trail. “This way.”
Greer took point, again, shotgun at her shoulder as she followed the path toward the river, the distinctive rush of water drawing them down.
Something crashed off to their left, twigs snapping as bushes rustled from the force.
They turned, weapons raised, muzzles sweeping the darkness.
Waiting until the noise had faded into the distance before continuing.
Another chirp.
Louder. Closer.
Greer picked up a bit of speed, waving at the mist when something clattered up ahead. Metal on rock, followed by a low thud. “Elijah.”
Any peripheral noise cut off, the trees bending closer from the light breeze, as if straining to hear a reply.
They moved on, stopping when the creek ate up the trail. Cold vapor lifted off the pooling black water, and for a second, everything smelled like copper and decaying moss.
She bounced the tiny beam around the bank, inhaling at a dark object snagged on a bush.
Chase climbed over some deadfall, shining his light on the item. “It’s his radio.”
Greer inched closer. “Eli. If you can hear me, tap twice.”
They waited, even the woods holding its breath as the cruiser’s blue lights strobed in the distance. Nothing more than the occasional hint of color reflected in the fog.
Greer called a second time, staring into the darkness as if she could will Eli to appear.
Make him materialize out of the foggy depths.
Chase retraced his steps, still listening for a response when something thumped downstream.
He paused, gaze searching the shadows, every sense on high alert, when the hollow sound echoed through the forest, again, followed by two light taps.