Chapter TWO
Summer
I practically stomped my way out of the freezing river, the heavy rubber waders sloshing loudly with every step.
I was absolutely boiling with rage. Who did this giant caveman think he was?
Okay, fine, maybe he wasn’t ugly—objectively, he was a massive, rugged alpha with a thick red beard and shoulders broader than a doorway—but his attitude was absolutely repulsive.
I had a master’s thesis to finish, and this grumpy wildlife ranger was ruining my data collection.
I was determined to just ignore him, hike further down the trail, and find another spot to take my water samples.
“Hey! I told you to stop,” his deep voice boomed behind me. I heard his boots crunching through the snow, closing the distance between us way too fast. He reached out, his massive hand coming down to grab my arm and stop me.
Oh, hell no!
My university safety training kicked in, but I added my own Alaskan twist. I dropped to my knees, scooped up a brutal handful of heavy, crusty snow packed with sharp chunks of ice, and whipped around.
With all the strength I had, I slammed the icy mixture straight into his face and eyes.
“Ah, fuck!” the ranger roared, stumbling backward as the jagged ice blinded him.
I didn’t waste a single second. I scrambled to my feet to bolt down the trail. A sickening yell escaped his throat. I glanced back for a split second and saw blood already starting to trickle down from the edge of his ear.
Panic and adrenaline surged through my veins. I didn’t mean to make him bleed, but I wasn’t staying to apologize to an angry grizzly bear. I turned and started sprinting down the snowy path as fast as my boots could carry me.
I burst through the tree line and practically threw myself onto my quad. It wasn’t one of those massive, tank-like ATVs the rangers drove; mine was a slimmer, lightweight model. It was fast, agile, and perfect for squeezing through tight brush where bigger vehicles would get stuck.
I turned the key, rammed the throttle forward, and the engine roared to life. I tore down the narrow trail, branches whipping against my helmet as I maneuvered effortlessly through the thickest parts of the woods.
But behind me, a deep, thundering roar echoed through the trees.
I glanced in my side mirror and my heart leaped into my throat. The caveman was right on my tail, sitting atop a massive, heavy-duty ranger quad that looked like it could plow through a brick wall. His face was still red, and he looked absolutely murderous. He was chasing me down like a predator.
I leaned low, pushing my nimble quad to its absolute limits, twisting through a labyrinth of dense thickets until the heavy rumbling behind me finally began to fade. I took three sharp, erratic turns, completely veering off the main path, until the woods fell silent.
I stopped, my chest heaving as I listened closely. Nothing. No engine sounds.
Taking a deep, shaky breath to calm my racing pulse, I unzipped my backpack.
I couldn’t let that brute ruin my entire day of research.
I pulled out my specimen case to check the water samples, then reached for my most prized piece of equipment: a military-grade tablet the university had loaned me specifically for this field study.
It didn’t need internet or cellular service; it relied on advanced satellite mapping to track topographical anomalies.
I booted it up, tapping the screen to sync my current coordinates with the Knik River’s flow.
I frowned, blinking at the display. I zoomed in on a dense, uncharted sector of the valley just a mile ahead.
On a standard map, this area was supposed to be nothing but protected federal forest. But on this advanced satellite feed, there was a massive, distinct blip.
A strange spot that didn’t match the natural terrain at all.
I guided my small quad toward the coordinates.
It was a huge, strange building hidden deep in the valley, surrounded by heavy wire fences. I killed my engine a safe distance away and crept toward the property line, following the edge of the fence as it sloped down toward the riverbank.
If this place were dumping something, the water right here would prove it.
I waded back into the freezing river, the heavy rubber of my waders shielding me from the chill as I pushed a few feet out. I unscrewed a fresh glass vial and dipped it into the current.
When I pulled it up into the gray daylight, my blood turned to ice.
The water sample wasn’t clear. It was a murky, sickly yellow hue. It practically screamed danger, a visual alarm bell that whatever this facility was doing, it was poisoning the entire ecosystem. Something completely illegal, was happening right here under everyone’s noses.
I quickly capped the vial, marked it with a waterproof pen, and shoved it securely into my specimen case. I needed to get this back to the university lab immediately.
But before I could take a single step back toward the riverbank, a deep, earth-shaking roar shattered the quiet of the woods.
You’ve got to be kidding me…
I frantically scrambled to shove the remaining samples into my backpack, zipping it up with trembling fingers. I needed to run, to get to my quad and disappear into the brush before he caught me.
But I was too late.
Before I could even climb off the muddy bank, his massive ranger ATV burst through the trees, tires tearing up the snow. With a deafening roar of the engine, he skidded the heavy machine sideways, completely blocking my path to freedom.