Page 41 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“Okay, let’s put Hadley between the two of us, then. I’ll take point.”
Fortunately, it had been a dry winter so far, and Hadley had good, warm boots—policing had taught her the importance of footwear. For the first little while, it was almost enjoyable—the crunch of their feet breaking the thin snow crusted over brittle leaves, the sunlight falling in shafts and lacy patterns between bare trees and pines. In the quiet, she could hear birdcalls, far more than she would have thought, and she caught flashes of cardinal red and gleaming black flitting among the trees.
Then her shoulders began to ache. Her legs wanted to stop and sit down for just a while, her lips were chapping, and her cheeks and nose stung from the cold, despite the fact she was perspiring inside her wool and knit layers. She was reminded, vividly, of why she avoided camping, and trekking, and really, any hike that was more than a pleasant stroll with the kids to a scenic overlook. Paul kept pistoningon, though, occasionally consulting a compass without pausing, while behind her, the chief methodically trudged forward despite carrying twice or maybe three times the weight she had.
It was bad enough she hadn’t thought to bring her service weapon; honestly, she never carried it off-duty, and up to the moment their plane was fired upon she hadn’t considered the militia group might be really,actuallydangerous. So many of these groups were just disgruntled ex-jocks and guys who washed out of police training. Hard to take seriously as a threat.
She set her face and tried to concentrate on her breathing, determined she wasn’t going to be the weak link in the chain between Ranger Last of the Mohicans and Chief Behind Enemy Lines. She focused on her feet, putting one boot in front of the other, until she was half-hypnotized and the pain in her back and hips seemed to belong to somebody else.
She nearly ran into Paul when he finally stopped. He motioned them to take off their packs, and she did so, suddenly so light she thought she might float up into the tangle of bare branches above. “The truck should be in sight once we’re over this rise.” He spoke in a quiet voice.
The chief answered the same way. “Low and slow, then.”
Even army-crawling felt good after being on her feet for so long. They crested the slight rise and could see the truck below them, not even on a rocky road like the one they had come in on, but rolled into a clearing.
She didn’t need Paul’s swift intake of breath to tell her they were looking at his uncle’s vehicle; the gold-on-black stripe and forest ranger medallion made that clear. The chief pressed the binoculars into her hand. “Knox, you’ve got good eyes. See if you can spot anything we need to worry about.”
Scanning the forest around the truck didn’t reveal anything except trees, stone outcrops, and patches of snow. She pointed out the faint traces of where the truck had come up between two banks of pines.
“Probably a dry creek bed.” Paul rose from his prone position. “Pierre could always manage trails no one else would dare.” Hadleywondered if he noticed he was speaking of his uncle in the past tense. They hoisted their packs and followed the ranger down the slope.
The truck was empty and locked. Paul’s grim expression said that was bad news.
“Paul.” The chief was searching the ground near the driver’s door. “Look at where this grass is beaten down.” The long gold shafts were broken and flat, and lichen had been scraped off the stones nearby. Hadley went to the tailgate, covered and closed by a black truck cap. “Here, too.”
“And on the passenger side.” Paul’s mouth tightened.
“Could your uncle have lost his key somehow?” It didn’t sound likely, but Hadley had learned to consider all possibilities. “Tried to hike out when he couldn’t get back into his truck?”
Paul squatted next to the rear wheel and felt around under the vehicle’s carriage. He pulled out a narrow metal box and opened it to reveal a key.
“Magnetic lockbox.” The chief came around to see. “I’ve got one of those myself.” He kicked at the disturbed ground. “Which means someone who didn’t know the trick was trying to get in.”
“At least two, would be my guess.”
Hadley circled the truck and crossed the open area toward the trees on the other side. Behind her, she heard Van Alstyne saying something to Paul in a subdued voice. She scanned the ground, looking for more of those crushed grasses, and found what she was searching for at the edge of the wood. A brown and brittle fern had been trampled, and beyond it, she could see the marks left in the leaves and snow of something, or someone, making their way through the trees.
“Guys.” She pitched her voice just loud enough to carry. “Over here.”
Paul reached her side first. “Oh, yeah.” He nodded at her. “Excellent work. You’re a natural tracker.” She could feel her face heating from the compliment, which was ridiculous.
“Good job, Knox.” The chief gestured behind him. “Let’s stow our gear in the truck and see where this trail takes us.”
Pierre had left his rifle in its rack in his vehicle; the chief took that and handed her his own Glock and holster. As usual, she didn’t feel any safer with a gun, but at least she wasn’t going to have to master a longarm when she’d only had the minimum required hours for them back at police basic.
They had her in the lead, with the ranger close behind her and Van Alstyne scanning the rear. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be doing this?” she asked Paul.
“You’d think with thousands of years of my ancestors hunting over these mountains I’d be better at it, but no, I’m not that great at tracking.” He dropped his voice. “Truthfully, I think I might need glasses.”
“Wow.” She pointed to where a group of pebbles had rolled beneath someone’s foot, leaving a patch of almost bare soil. “I’ll never see a Western in the same way again.”
“Yeah, that’s how your people got the jump over mine. A tragic lack of ophthalmological care.” He gestured to where someone had plowed through a drift of leaves.
“Yeah, I see them. I’m not sure it’s that I’m super gifted at spotting details. I don’t think these guys worried about hiding their tracks.”
Paul made an unhappy sound in his throat. “They left a ranger’s vehicle abandoned in the woods. How could they not think the DEC would turn out to investigate?”
“They haven’t yet, have they?” She ducked beneath a feathery evergreen bough and got a head-clearing whiff of pine sap. “Maybe they’re not planning on being here that long.”
