Lone Rider by Lindsay McKenna (18)

Chapter Eighteen

Harper waited impatiently for Sarah to gather everyone so they could plan a strategy to find Elson and Tara. It was nearly noon, the overhead sun bright, the temperature in the seventies and climbing in Prater Canyon. There were ten USFS horse trailers, two animals in each, saddled, with rangers standing nearby, ready to hunt down Elson.

The most crucial part in this whole plan was Terry Larson, who was the drone driver. He was with one of Sarah’s volunteer deputies. Terry’s son, Josh, sixteen, was assigned to watching on a Mac laptop for anything the high-flying drone could see far above Prater Canyon. Harper had hesitantly left the milling group and went to look over Josh’s left shoulder, peering intently into the picture being sent back by the drone.

He wanted things to move a lot faster. Noah and Reese joined him, intently watching the screen of the laptop with him. They had loaded up their own ranch horses, were already saddled, waiting in their four-horse trailer off to the south side of the parking lot. They had deliberately parked far from the law enforcement effort and trailers, wanting to stay out of the way. Harper knew the rangers wouldn’t share any of their horses with them. That was fine with him. Nearby, he could see the glacier-fed river, that milky, opaque green color that started up high, around thirteen thousand feet in the Salt Range, where it wound down one side of Prater Canyon.

Eventually, the deep-flowing water would empty out into the Snake River, which ran about half a mile farther down from the canyon opening. He glanced over to see Noah and Reese intently studying what the drone camera was videotaping. The drone was at ten thousand feet and Terry, who was in his forties, promised everyone Cree wouldn’t hear it if he was in the vicinity. Besides, at that altitude, it gave the drone a much wider range of visibility to spot Cree.

How badly Harper wanted confirmation that Cree had Tara captive and was somewhere far above them. The back of his neck prickled, a warning that his intuition was right. The drone had already checked the two broken-down cabins at seven and eight thousand feet, with no sign of life around either of them. Sarah looked disappointed about that intel. Larson told her there was an old, abandoned salt mine at nine thousand feet. As a kid, he’d played up near that mine and said that often, during his high school days, boys would hike up there to drink beer. But that was a long time ago. He was sending his drone to check it out.

Sarah had asked the head ranger to bring over the topographical map of the area, and they spread it open on the asphalt parking lot, all of them kneeling around it, looking closely at all the lines drawn, trying to locate the ancient salt mine.

Larson couldn’t help because he was flying the drone. The river that flowed up in the Salt Range paralleled the route to the salt mine, so he used it as a natural guide as he stood near his son, dividing his attention between flying the drone and looking at the camera footage on the laptop. Father and son were a good team, and Harper was grateful they’d volunteered to help find Tara.

Sarah had the captain of the SWAT team, the head of the regional USFS, her six deputies convene. She worked with them to lay out a plan of action once they got confirmation from the drone whether Cree had been spotted. There was no sense sending anyone on horseback up above the canyon unless they could verify Tara and Elson were there.

Harper tried to hold on to his shredding patience.

“We found them!” Larson called out excitedly to the assembled group huddled around the topo map.

Josh straightened, his grin wide as he pointed triumphantly to the laptop. He gave his dad a thumb’s-up.

Instantly, Harper was bent over the laptop, squeezing in between Reese and Noah. Shading his eyes, he could see two stick-like figures moving between the trees. “Where are they?” he demanded of Larson.

“At about eighty-five hundred feet and right in line to get to the salt mine,” Larson said, a congratulatory grin across his mouth.

“Can Elson hear your drone?” Harper demanded. More people crowded around them, everyone wanting to catch a look at the computer screen.

“No. I have a very quiet drone because I do a lot of close-up commercial footage of wild animals. Elson will never hear it until it gets within five hundred feet of where he’s standing.”

Anxiously, Harper got down on one knee, his hand on the back of Josh’s metal chair in front of the table where the laptop sat. His heart amped up and he felt shaky inside as he saw Larson begin to orient the camera toward them for a much closer look. In moments, the zoom lens showed Cree. Fear and joy swept through Harper as he saw Tara looking well enough. She was on an eight-foot leash, the white cotton rope strung between her tied wrists in front of her and the loop of the rope at the rear of Cree’s belt as he struggled with the rockier, steep slope ahead of them.

“What’s she doing?” Josh asked, turning toward Harper.

Scowling, Harper moved closer. He saw Tara lifting her bonds, chewing on them with her teeth as she made sure she walked directly behind Cree, the huge pack hiding his ability to see what she was doing. “She’s trying to untie the knot with her teeth,” Harper guessed.

“But why?” Josh wondered. “If Elson finds out . . .”

Harper didn’t need him to finish his thought. Scanning the video, he saw the river no more than fifteen feet away from where they were climbing. The river was damned icy cold, glacier-fed, deep, fast and at least a hundred feet wide. A little farther down from where they were located was a thirty-foot waterfall. Terror started leaking through him. Before he could speak, Reese leaned over.

“I think she’s trying to get free and then she’ll run to the river and jump in to try to escape him, Harper.”

Dread filled him. “Jesus,” he whispered, “she’s willing to go over the falls? The water’s so damned cold that hypothermia will set in within five minutes. She could drown even if she survives the thirty-foot fall.” Worse, she could strike a rock on the way down, or break her leg in the pool below. So many bad things could happen to Tara, it knotted his stomach.

Reese studied the situation. “That’s my hunch,” he said, giving Harper a worried look. “Where else can she go? She can’t outrun Elson. She has no other way to protect herself.”

Pointing at the screen, Harper said, “No, those branches on the ground are baseball bat in size and length. She could grab one of them. Maybe that’s her plan. Get her hands freed, grab one of those and coldcock Elson, knock him unconscious. Then run, following the river down to Prater Canyon.”

Nodding, Reese said, “That’s another possible plan.” He rubbed his jaw, worry in his tone. “Either way, it’s risky as hell.”

“Tara would try to escape,” Harper said grimly. “She’s been trained in escape and evasion tactics in the military. She’s not going to meekly go to slaughter. That’s not in her DNA.” He buttonholed Reese. “I’m taking my horse and heading up in that direction. I’m not waiting for law enforcement to get saddled up.”

Reese looked at Noah. “We’ve got two-way radios on all of us. Harper and I are going to take off to try to get up and reach her.” Grimly, he looked at the gathered group around the sheriff. “Let’s just quietly leave on horseback and move toward the river.”

Harper nodded. “Good idea. There’s a lot of brush and trees at the far end of this canyon that hides the trail climbing up and out of it. They’ll never know we left.”

Noah said, “Get going. I’ll stay here and work with Josh and Terry to keep you two apprised of any changes.”

Now, all of Harper’s anxiety melted as he and Reese casually walked back to their horse trailer, which was parked farthest away from the assembled group. It would be easy to mount up and ride at a walk toward the river, half a mile away. Even better? The land sloped downward near the end of the parking lot so that if any of the law enforcement types saw them leave, they’d see them heading south, not up into the canyon. It was a sleight-of-hand tactic, and he saw Reese grinning like a wolf as they walked to the trailer.

As they disappeared around the four-horse trailer, Reese opened the front of the trailer, pulling out two rifles and handing one to Harper. “Put this in Socks’ sheath.”

“Got it,” Harper agreed, taking the .30-06. He placed a cartridge into the breech, then put the rifle on safety. If they needed firepower, they wouldn’t have time to load a bullet into the chamber.

“Black-ops time,” Reese said, setting his rifle aside. He reached into a box and handed Harper a black nylon holster with a Glock 18 in it. “One for you and one for me. Here’s a Kevlar vest. It’s holding two more magazines.”

Satisfied, Harper quickly pulled on the heavy, camo-colored vest. In front were two magazines for the Glock, plus pouches for the bullets for the .30-06. They weren’t going after Cree Elson without adequate firepower. “We’ll use the slope to cover our progress to the other end of the canyon, then slip into the woods where the trail leading up and out of it is located.”

Reese nodded, hauling on the vest. “Roger that.”

“Damn good thing we’ve all been in black ops. Makes this mission easier to pull off.”

“Yeah,” Reese said. “Let’s get Socks and Ghost unloaded and then leave quietly like the shadows we are. Once we get below that slope, we’re trotting all the way to that canyon trail. It’s a hard climb for the horses and I don’t want to wear them out too soon.”

“Copy that,” Harper agreed, going to the tailgate and flipping open the handles so the ramp came down. The horses were already saddled and ready to go. Their bridles were hanging on the saddle horn, and as soon as the horses backed out, Harper and Reese would slip the bridles on over their halters, mount and take off.

Harper tried to keep his worry under control. Tara was trying to escape the only way she knew how. And this law enforcement group was moving too slowly to help her if she succeeded.

Mounting Socks, Harper watched Reese easily slip into the saddle of Ghost, his usual wrangling mount at the ranch. Nodding to his boss, they clucked to their mounts, keeping the huge, long trailer as a wall between them and the group on the other side of the parking lot. They would use it to hide their escape. No one would see them leave and that was a good thing. Harper’s heart wouldn’t settle down. He loved Tara. And he hadn’t told her. His leather-gloved hand tightened around the reins for a moment. If only he’d told Tara. If only . . .

* * *

Tara gnawed on the cotton rope with her teeth, her gaze always on Cree’s back. If he turned around to check on her, she couldn’t be caught doing this. She had to escape! Without her wrists free, she was helpless. Her heart was pounding heavily in her chest. She divided her attention between the rocks, the slippery dry pine needles on the ground beneath her feet and trying to ease the knot open. Breathing hard, she saw the forest was thinning out more and more as they continued to climb to nearly nine thousand feet.

Cree was breathing rapidly as well, his hiking pace slowing. They had been pushing hard and fast. Even he was tiring. Up ahead, Tara peered at a huge black butte where there was a lot of dirt on the surrounding slope consisting of disturbed rock and soil.

Her mind clicked off variables. The river was as close as it ever had been because he’d angled toward it, the ground a little smoother, a little less rocky. Far above them, she could hear the roar of another waterfall, but she couldn’t see it yet. They had just passed a lower falls area minutes earlier. Tara knew the heavy snowpack above them, as it melted, flowed down this water course every year and into the Snake River, far below. The water was always a milky, light green color, indicating it was glacier melt runoff.

She kept searching on the ground for a pine limb that would be the right size for her purposes. The closer she could get to one, the better. Should she be able to slip free of her bonds, she had to make a split-second decision. Either a limb was nearby or it wasn’t. If it was? She was going to grab it, hit Cree over the head and knock him out. There was danger to the plan because if he saw her move suddenly to sweep up a nearby limb, he could turn on her, and then her surprise advantage was gone. Tara knew he could easily overpower her strength-wise. And he’d draw his knife. Or, worse, he might throw the knife at her and injure or kill her if he was any good. She just didn’t know.

The choices weren’t good ones. But she had to try to escape. Her saliva soaked into the ropes as she hurriedly gnawed and tugged at the knot. It was loosening! Heart amping up, feeling like it would rip out of her chest or that Cree would hear it, Tara kept her gaze fixed on him. Anxiety washed through her. The other choice on her plate made her gut clench. Once she was free, she would run for the river, jump in and swim as hard as she could to the other side, hoping Cree wouldn’t follow her. She had no idea how good a swimmer he was. Did he have a pistol hidden in his pack? If he did, he’d have to run after her, get the pack off his back, then find the weapon before he could start shooting at her. How good a shot was he anyway? Again, Tara had no clue.

Because of her military evasion and escape training, she knew the glacier-fed water would sap her internal body heat within five minutes of entering it. And then she’d start floundering, carried downstream by the swift, hidden current toward that lower waterfall. And if she couldn’t get to the other bank within that critical five minutes, she could die either from hypothermia or being swept over the rocky waterfall. It was a thirty-foot drop. High enough to kill a person. Tara swallowed against her tightened throat, gnawing more quickly at the rope, feeling the knot loosening with every tug of her teeth.

She swiftly gazed around her, not finding a big enough limb close enough for her to grab. That meant she had to run for the river. Oh, God, what if she drowned? What if Cree caught up to her before she could jump into the river? Tara knew she would die. He wouldn’t tolerate her leaving him again. He’d kill her for sure.

For that next minute, Tara tried to focus, tried not to allow her frantic emotions and fear of dying to blot out her thinking. The one thing she regretted the most in her life was that she’d never confided in Harper that she’d fallen in love with him. Her heart cringed with anguish and she made a soft, grunting sound, feeling the bonds loosening rapidly around her wrists. Circulating blood poured into the whitened flesh around her wrists, causing her excruciating pain for a moment. It kept her focused and she wriggled her fingers, willing feeling and life back into them.

Her only escape was the river because there were no limbs nearby.

Tara wanted so badly to live, to see Harper again. To see her parents. To live her life.

Why had it come down to this terrible moment?

She watched Cree’s head movement, praying he wouldn’t turn at this moment. She rapidly got rid of the bonds, falling to the ground, dragging behind him. Without a sound, Tara turned, digging the toes of her boots into the hard, rocky soil. Everything slowed down for her. She wanted to run directly toward the river, keeping Cree’s back in alignment with her escape route. When he turned around, he’d see she was gone. He normally didn’t look for ten or so minutes at a time. The wind tore past her as she sprinted, leaping over downed branches, not wanting to make noise to get his attention.

Let me live, let me live.... It was a litany in her head, pounding into her temples. She tried to run smart. Tried not to step on anything that would make a sound.

The river was less than a hundred feet away.

“You bitch!”

Elson’s scream pummeled Tara’s ears. She automatically ducked her head and cringed, her speed increasing.

She had to make it to the water!

Tara tripped over an unseen limb hidden by pine needles.

She went flying.

Hitting the bank of the river with an oomph, Tara was dazed for a second. Adrenaline shot through her.

Scrambling to her hands and knees, which were bruised and bleeding because of the jagged, hidden rocks around her, she jerked a look toward her pursuer.

Cree Elson was racing toward her. His face was black with fury, his knife drawn in his fist.

He was going to kill her.

And then Elson’s charge toward her suddenly stopped.

Tara sat up, scrambling to her feet as she watched the rope dragging from the back of his pack and get tangled around a small pine tree. He was yanked backward off his feet. The knife flew out of his hand.

Leaping in midair and turning, Tara headed for the milky-green waters of the wide river. This was her only chance to escape!

Elson was cursing, turning, yanking on the rope to try to free himself from around the pine tree.

Without hesitation, her boots on, she leaped feetfirst into the water, clearing the bank by five feet.

The cold water shocked her. Tara was instantly dragged below the surface.

She felt the powerful pull of the current like invisible hands grasping at her. She twisted, kicking out. She only had five minutes before the hypothermia began to slow her muscles and she could drown.

Head popping up to the surface, she yanked a look back. Her intake of breath was noisy and raspy. Elson was shedding the pack, cursing loudly, and she saw him draw out a pistol. He was going to shoot her. Tara felt a spur of dread, turning, striking out strongly toward the opposite shore. The water splashed and she felt her heart sinking as the downward pull of the water continued. Her boots filled with water, and the added weight made it three times harder to remain on the surface. The bank was fifty feet away.

She was being carried swiftly downstream.

Now, her whole focus was the waterfall coming up. Terror shot through her. A little sound of panic escaped her contorted lips as she struggled to aim for the other bank.

She’d misjudged the current.

Frantic, Tara saw the rocks jutting up where the waterfall began.

Her hands were numb. She couldn’t feel anything, the icy coldness of the water seeping quickly into her vulnerable body. Her legs felt like concrete dragging her down, and she heard Cree screaming at her, but his voice was drowned out by the roar of the approaching falls.

Tara lunged forward, kicking with all her might. The boots were so heavy! Water washed over her, blinding her momentarily. The current seemed to increase in speed the closer she got to being pulled over.

She had no training for being swept over a cataract. She had no idea how to survive it. Or if she could.

The rocky bank loomed before her, filled with wet, glistening rocks as the current eddied and swirled madly just above the falls.

Tara felt her entire body going numb because of the coldness of the water. Hypothermia was setting in. Stretching, her fingers gleaming with water as she sluggishly thrust it above the surface, she clawed frantically at a passing rock sticking out of the side of the bank.

The waterfall was only thirty feet away.

Her speed toward it was increasing.

It felt as if invisible, powerful currents were tugging at her weary legs and boots, pulling her out toward the center of the river once more.

Tara cried out, making another lunging attempt. If she didn’t make it this time, she was going to be swept over the falls.

Everything slowed down to a painful crawl for Tara. Her widened gaze was riveted on a rock ten feet away from her. She was only twenty feet away from the falls. It was a long, wet, black rock. It almost looked like a hand being offered to her. But her fingers had already slipped off the other rock because there was no purchase. Everything was slippery.

Kicking with the last of her strength, grunting with effort, the roar of the waterfall surrounded her. The whitewater curled, bubbled and eddied at the top.

She cried out, giving one last try to grab that rock on the bank.

Her fingers clawed and grasped at its sharp, roughened surface. Desperate, Tara felt her strength ebbing, felt her legs not working right. She was hypothermic. Her mind was beginning to wander.

The current ripped her fumbling hand off the rock. She was going over.

Screaming, she twisted, feeling as if she were swimming in peanut butter. At the last second, she oriented herself feetfirst toward the falls.

It was almost instinctive to cross her arms against her chest, her boots facing the roiling, swirling falls, and she was carried with unbelievable speed toward the center of the river. The powerful current pushed Tara between two huge rocks and then she shot outward.

One second and she was in the water.

The next second she was sailing through the air, her arms and legs flailing.

The cry she heard was her own.

Everything was in excruciatingly slow motion. Tara felt like she was heading toward that round, circular pool below. Her mind blanked out as she was whipped by spray, her gaze momentarily blinded. Her whole focus, her whole life, riveted on that beautiful, blue-green pool below, racing up toward her. It looked so calm beyond, where the water fell at one end of it. She was flying. The wind slapped against her face. The spray felt like stinging ice crystals against her face. Her boots were below her and she was dropping fast. What seemed like a long, torturous minute took only seconds.

Tara hit the water hard. Her body plunged deep, deep down into the pool, her feet and lower legs taking the brunt of the contact. She felt pain in the soles of her feet, her ankles and then her knees, the water closing in over the top of her head, burying her beneath the surface, and yet she still continued downward. Opening her eyes, all she saw was cloudy green, milky-looking water surrounding her.

Lungs feeling as if they would burst, she felt herself slowing her downward plunge. Lifting her arms weakly above her head, she twisted onto her stomach, heading for the sunlit surface above her. It was barely a glow, not light, because of the cloudiness of the water.

The surface seemed so far away. She needed to take a breath of air.

No! She couldn’t! She’d drown!

Her chest ached. Her lungs felt as if they were on fire as she kicked erratically, trying to propel herself to the surface. Would she make it in time? Or not?

Tara didn’t know. Closing her eyes, she began to release the air in her aching lungs, the bubbles racing toward the surface as she floundered and weakly fought to rise. The need to draw in a breath was nearly overwhelming. If she did, she’d fill her lungs with water and die.

The last thought she had was that Harper would never know she’d fallen in love with him.