Chapter 6

chapter

six

The Blue Mountain fire tower sat on the precipice of the mountain that gave it its name, at nearly five thousand feet above sea level. The climb was more arduous than Lucy remembered, and her legs ached from the exertion. She couldn't imagine how her hikers felt.

Especially poor Joel. He lagged behind, each step obviously agony for him, but he still kept moving. There was a determined set to his jaw that Lucy admired. The kid had grit. Far more than his father gave him credit for. Chuck also lagged, huffing and puffing like a steam engine. His gaze kept flashing toward his son, filled with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect.

They had traded off carrying Maya, but Lucy once again took over his end of the stretcher after he nearly dropped her. The man was a lot of bluster, but no stamina. He had been quick to boast about his athletic past at the beginning of the trip, but it was obvious that those glory days were far behind him.

Thankfully, Bea was holding up like a trooper, her sturdy frame bearing the brunt of the stretcher's weight. She was steady and uncomplaining, and Lucy appreciated her more than she could express.

Sawyer, Zelda, and Theodore flanked the stretcher on either side when the path was wide enough, and fell into single file behind it when the trail narrowed. Sawyer moved with a steady confidence that didn't falter, his trusty cane tapping out a reassuring rhythm on the rocky path. Theodore chatted quietly with Maya, even managing to pull a weak smile from her once or twice before she lost consciousness again.

Maya's face was ghost white. She had lost a lot of blood, and her breathing was becoming more ragged and shallower. Lucy checked the makeshift bandage around Maya's abdomen, but saw that it was soaked through with crimson. They needed to get her medical attention soon or she might not make it.

The trail snaked up the mountainside, dotted with loose rocks and tree roots that made the going treacherous. More than once, someone's foot slipped, or the stretcher tilted dangerously. But they kept on, determination and adrenaline fueling their ascent.

At last the fire tower came into view, a steel frame with a wraparound balcony perched atop a bald rock outcropping.

Finally.

Lucy wanted to sob with relief. She held it in—couldn't let the others know she'd been worried. What if she'd been wrong about the location? What if she'd misled them in the confusion after the landslide? What if the earthquake had destroyed the tower despite its fortifications? What if? What if? What if? She'd silently tortured herself with the questions and doubts throughout the entire hike.

But they were so close now. Just a little further, and they'd reach help.

Lucy carefully set Maya's stretcher down and cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Hello!"

No response. But someone was up there. A light flicked in the windows.

"Hello? Please, we need help. We have injured hikers."

The door opened, and a man stepped out onto the balcony. His beard was scruffy, and he wore a faded green jacket with a Forest Service patch on the arm.

The man peered down at them from the balcony, his expression unreadable in the fading light. He didn't call out or wave, just watched as they struggled up the last bit of trail to the tower. He had a hunter's watchful gaze.

Lucy shifted anxiously as the seconds ticked by. Why wasn't he saying anything? Sawyer moved closer to her side. She liked having him there. Just like in that cave last year, his mere presence soothed her nerves.

"Who are you?" the man finally asked. His tone wasn't unfriendly, just direct.

Lucy stepped forward. "I'm Lucy Harper. I was leading a tour group when the earthquake hit. We have injured— a broken leg, a concussion, and possible internal bleeding. Do you have a working radio?"

The man studied them for another moment, then glanced over his shoulder at someone inside. He finally set the rifle down, leaning it against the balcony railing. "Name's Ethan Voss. I'm the fire lookout here. Radio's nothing but static since the quake."

Her gut clenched at his words. She'd been counting on that radio. She needed to get a message to the Forest Service or, even better, Redwood Coast Rescue. They were better equipped to handle a rescue operation of this magnitude.

She swallowed the knot in her throat and forced a nod, pushing back the mounting panic. "Look, Ethan, can we come up? We really need help. There's a girl here—Maya." She gestured toward the unconscious woman on the makeshift stretcher. "She's in bad shape."

Ethan's gaze shifted to Maya, then flicked back to the room behind him. "Not a lot of room up here."

"But we'll make do." A new voice drifted down from above, followed by the face of another man. He was younger than Ethan, with a severe gaze and a grim line to his mouth. He had a bandage on the side of his head, the middle of the white gauze dark with blood. "We can't leave them out here. Let ‘em come up."

Relief loosened the knot in her chest, letting her breathe again. "Thank you."

Ethan grunted something about a lack of supplies, but made his way down the zigzagging steps to the ground. He moved fast and sure-footed, despite the dimming light. Whatever reservations he had about letting them up, at least he seemed willing to help.

As Ethan reached ground level, his gaze flicked over their haggard group and settled on Maya. His jaw hardened, but it wasn't out of indifference—there was a flicker of something else in those watchful eyes.

Without any further talk, Ethan lifted one end of Maya's stretcher. The younger man with the bandage was already down from the tower, striding towards them in long, hurried steps. He picked up the other end and, together, they lifted Maya up the narrow stairs. Joel followed, leaning heavily on his dad and Bea. Theodore brought up the rear, hands out like he could catch them if they fell.

She felt Sawyer lingering nearby like a static charge along her nerve endings.

"Go on," she told him. "The stairs are right in front of you."

He moved forward until his cane hit the bottom step, then shifted to look back in her direction. "Not coming up with us, Harper?"

She flashed him a smile that felt brittle on her lips. Lucky for her, he couldn't see how unconvincing it was. "In a moment. I just need to..."

What?

She didn't know. Stand here for a minute and just breathe? Maybe breakdown and let out all of the fear and anxiety swirling inside her? No, she couldn't do that, but she could take a moment alone to be Lucy and not Ranger Harper.

Sawyer nodded, understanding flashing in his pale blue eyes. "Take your time," he said softly, then started up the stairs, Zelda by his side.

Lucy watched them disappear into the tower before finally allowing herself to crumple onto a nearby stump. Her knees were shaking so hard they could barely hold her weight, and her chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of all their problems. Buried beneath the concern for her group was terror for herself. The memories of her own trauma were still too fresh, nightmares that often woke her in a cold sweat.

The Shadow Stalker.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the memory of his cold laughter echoing off the cave walls as he left her to die. But she wasn't dead. She was alive and she had people depending on her. She had to be strong for them.

With a determined swallow, she stood from the stump and ascended the stairs to the tower.

Ethan wasn't lying about not having much room. The cabin was one room filled with a wood-burning stove, several mismatched chairs, and a single bed in the corner. Maps of the surrounding forest were pinned to the walls, and a radio setup took up most of one table. It was tight quarters, but it was shelter, and right now, that was more important than anything else.

Maya was placed gently on the bed while Joel settled into one of the chairs, his bloody leg propped up on an ottoman. The rest of their group squeezed themselves into remaining spaces, their faces etched with exhaustion and worry. Ethan hunched over the radio, his brow furrowed in intense concentration as he attempted to hail rescue. The occasional crackle of static was the only response he got.

The younger man crouched beside Maya, his fingers resting on her wrist as he looked at his watch.

Lucy crossed to him. After a moment, he gently placed Maya's arm back on the bed and covered her with a fraying quilt. His eyes said what Lucy already knew— Maya wasn't going to make it.

"Are you a doctor?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Army medic."

So he probably had a bit more medical training than her EMT certification, but not necessarily the extensive experience of the seasoned trauma surgeon that Maya needed.

"Is there anything more we can do for her?"

"Not without proper medical equipment and supplies. We can keep her comfortable. That's about it." He held out a hand over the bed. "Grant Clarke. I was hiking through when the quake hit. Got knocked out, woke up here with the grumpy Mr. Voss taking care of me."

She accepted his handshake. "Lucy Harper. I'm a park ranger here."

"Figured as much from the uniform." Grant smiled briefly, his gaze still on Maya. After a moment of silence, he rose and grimly surveyed the room. "We'll need more water," he said to no one in particular and moved toward the stack of water jugs along one wall. He picked one up, hefting it in his grip as he measured the remaining contents with a critical eye. His gaze drifted once more to Maya, taking in her ashen complexion and her uneven breaths before landing back on Lucy.

"I'll walk down to the nearest spring and bring back what I can." He looked at Ethan. "If I remember correctly, it's not far."

Ethan grunted but didn't lift his attention from the radio as he fiddled with the dial. "Half a mile to the east."

"Finally someone's taking control of this situation," Chuck said.

Bea scowled. "What do you mean, finally ? Ranger Harper got us here, didn't she?"

Grant shot the man a look, clearly unimpressed, then hefted two empty jugs up on his shoulders. "You all should get some rest. I'll be back soon."

Lucy made sure Maya was firmly tucked in, then watched Grant disappear down the stairs. The door closed, leaving them in silence save for the crackle of the radio and Maya's labored breathing.

Stepping back from Maya's bed, she assessed the room. Theodore was already dosing with his head on Bea's shoulder, and Bea looked just as exhausted. Chuck's face was still an unhealthy red from the hike up to the tower, while Joel's was a sweat-slicked mask of pain. She moved over to where he sat in one of the mismatched chairs, his leg propped up on an ottoman. One look told her his leg was swelling despite the makeshift splint she had applied earlier.

"Joel, we need to elevate your leg higher." She shooed Chuck out of the other chair and grabbed the cushion, sliding it gently beneath his leg.

Joel grimaced. "Thanks," he said through gritted teeth. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, and the pain was setting in full force.

The kid was so much stronger than his father gave him credit for.

"So what's the plan now?" Bea asked, startling her husband out of his doze. She laid a hand on his shoulder to keep him from jumping through the roof.

"We wait," Lucy answered simply.

"Wait for what?" Theodore asked, the panic clear in his voice.

"Rescue."

"And what if they don't come?" Chuck demanded. "What then? My boy can't walk off this mountain in his state."

"Dad…" Joel protested.

"They'll come." It was Sawyer who spoke this time. "I know my team. They'll come."

"But they don't know where we are," Joel pointed out.

"They'll figure it out."

"But how long will it take?" Theodore's gaze darted nervously behind his glasses. "How long do we just sit here?"

Lucy looked at Sawyer, seeing in him the calm she wished she could feel.

"As long as we need to," he answered.

"Easy for you to say," Chuck muttered under his breath.

Bea shot him a reproachful look. "What about food? We didn't bring much more than snacks. We were only supposed to be gone for six hours."

Lucy glanced toward Ethan's stockpile of canned food on the shelves of the tiny kitchenette. If this went on longer than a couple of days, it wouldn't nearly be enough for nine people. "All right, listen. We're not going to solve anything by staying awake through the night. We have shelter, and people are looking for us. In the morning, we'll figure out our supply situation, but for now, we all need sleep."

"But what about Maya?" Joel asked, worry creasing his forehead.

"That's out of our hands now. What she needs is rest, and so do you," Lucy said, laying her hand gently on Joel's shoulder.

The others settled down, using their backpacks as makeshift pillows and curling up in whatever available floor space remained. Sawyer guided Zelda over to a spot near the door. After making sure everyone was settled, she crossed to him and sat on the floor next to him.

"Gonna be a long night," Sawyer murmured.

A chill crept up her spine, icy fingers tracing her vertebrae one by one. No radio, dwindling supplies, no way off this peak until help arrived... if it arrived.

"Yes. It is." She exhaled hard and ran her hands over her face. Only then did she realize they were caked in mud and blood. She couldn't help the small, distressed sound that escaped her as she tried to rub it off.

A hand gently covered her own, and she looked up to see Sawyer's face, his eyes focused somewhere over her shoulder. He was so calm, so steady, even in the face of utter uncertainty. He gently moved his fingers over the dried blood and grime, tracing every scrape and bruise.

"It's going to be all right, Luce," he said softly.

She swallowed thickly, her heart pounding in her chest as she met his unfocused gaze. This was not the time for this, but the warmth of his touch, the familiar comfort of his presence, was something she desperately needed.

She had so many conflicting emotions when it came to this man—relief that he was here by her side again, anger that he had disappeared without a word, and an undeniable draw to him that both frightened and excited her.

"Why did you leave?" she whispered, unable to stop herself from voicing the question that had haunted her for a year.

Sawyer's brow furrowed. He opened his mouth but hesitated.

"You didn't need me anymore," he said finally.

"What?"

"You were healing, and I thought if I stayed around…" He shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't want to be a reminder of what happened to you."

Lucy blinked in surprise. "Sawyer, you were the reason I survived. If you hadn't found me..." She trailed off, unable to voice what would have happened if he hadn't shown up when he did.

He was silent, head bowed. She studied his profile, taking in the strong line of his jaw and the furrow between his brows.

"I know I was a mess afterward," she continued, finding her voice again. "The panic attacks, the nightmares… but I wouldn't have gotten through that without you. And then, when I finally started to feel like myself again, you were just gone."

Sawyer turned his face toward her, pale eyes glistening. "I thought it was for the best. I didn't want to hold you back."

"You should have let me decide that. I needed—" She stopped short, emotion closing her throat.

You.

God had she needed him. His quiet strength. His gentle understanding. His optimism. His jokes. During those long days in the hospital, he had been her rock. And when he disappeared from her life, she'd felt as if her anchor had been ripped away, leaving her adrift.

Lucy looked down at her lap, blinking back tears. She had needed him so much back then. And if she was being honest with herself, she still needed him now. The old anxiety was creeping through her like a cancer, bringing with it the hypervigilance and bone-deep fear that had plagued her for so long after the attack.

She looked up at him again, opened her mouth to tell him all of that, but a loud thump sounded from the stairs, startling her.

They both turned toward the sounds as Grant pushed through the door, arms laden with full water jugs. Ethan jumped up to help him haul them over to the counter.

"That should be enough to get us through tomorrow at least," Grant said.

Lucy pressed her lips together. Their conversation would have to wait. She stood, legs stiff from sitting still after such a strenuous hike, and went to check on Maya. The woman's breathing seemed a little less labored now, her face not quite so pale.

Small miracles.

Maybe she still had a fighting chance.

Maybe they would all make it out of here in one piece.