Page 79 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
The single-width lane opened up into a wide clearing, snow-bright even under cloudy skies. Pelletier rolled forward. “Where are the trucks kept?”
“They were right there!” Yíxin pointed to a bare space to the right of the run-down hunting shack.
“Crap,” the deputy beside Hadley muttered.
There was enough room on the other side of the shack to accommodate their truck. The lieutenant pulled in. The other deputies parked behind them. Everyone piled out. “It looks like they’ve moved theirtrucks.” Pelletier gestured to one of the deputies. “Check the cabin.” He nodded to the deputy beside Hadley. “Do a walk-around where Ms. Zhào indicated, see if you can find anything. The rest of you, let’s get these sleds on the ground.”
Yíxin turned to him. “You’re still going up? They’re gone!”
“They might be gone. Or they might have sent some guys out on a supply run. Or they might have another place they can also access from their camp. I don’t know. But I do know there are four rangers crossing the mountain on the other side, and I’m not leaving them without support when they reach their target.”
Hadley tugged on the lawyer’s coat. “Let’s get out of their way.” They walked back to the tree line while the deputies worked to unload the snowmobiles.
“Do you think we’ll find anyone?”
Hadley blew out a breath. “I dunno. They’ve been up there for weeks now. Their trucks were here two days ago. Why pack up and go now?”
“Maybe they had a warning.” Yíxin’s tone was decidedly cynical.
“From…”
“You heard the sheriff. Plenty of people who sympathize with ‘aspects of the militia.’” She made finger quotes. “I can guarantee you some of them are law enforcement.”
Hadley thought about a few of the people she’d met in the two years since she’d become a cop. And from when she was a corrections officer in California. “I’d like to argue with you, but I can’t.”
One of the older deputies walked toward them, holding up two helmets. “C’mon, girls, time to mount up.” Yíxin gave Hadley a meaningful look.
“Officer Knox, you’re with me.” Pelletier pointed to the guy who had given them their helmets. “Pierce, you take Ms. Zhào and stay to the rear.”
The snowmobiles had been off-loaded every which way, but as they started their engines and headed up the mountain, everyone fell into a single line, evenly spaced. The engine noise as they accelerated was ridiculously loud to Hadley’s ears, and she hoped to hell their timing—which would allegedly bring them to the camp simultaneously withthe rangers hiking in—was accurate. Because she was pretty sure anyone up there could hear them coming already.
This was a two-seater, unlike the snowmobile she had used with Paul. There was no leaning forward and wrapping her arms around the driver this time. The lieutenant showed her the grips next to her seat, and reminded her to sit firmly against the seat back, which wasn’t even as high as her desk chair at the department. It felt terrifyingly unnatural, and as they accelerated upward, she was sure she was about to flip over the rear and get run over by the machine behind them. They hit a curve, and she squeezed the grips tighter than she had the nurse’s hand when she’d been in labor. She made the same loud, wavering moan, although thankfully, the full-face helmet and the jet-engine roar meant no one could hear her. It went on and on, an uninterrupted stretch and then another curve, the wind cutting through her parka, her pants crusting with snow, her fingers numb and cramping. And she was going to have to do the whole thing over again coming down. Oh God. Maybe she’d get lucky and one of the militia would shoot her instead.
Suddenly, they were out of the trees and in an open area, a wide crescent cupping the side of a gently sloping hill. What had the chief called it? A moraine. “This is it!” she yelled, forgetting she was inaudible. Pelletier swung abruptly to the side and they jolted to a stop. The cessation of the noise made her ears ring. She staggered off the sled as one, two, three machines skidded into the empty space behind them.
The deputies and the lieutenant tore off their helmets and swarmed up the hill, weapons drawn but down. Hadley struggled with her helmet, finally removing it in time to see Yíxin jogging toward her, eyes lit up like a kid seeing Santa. “Wasn’t thatamazing? Let’s go.”
Hadley nodded, not sure she could say anything at this point. The slope leading to the camp had seen heavy traffic, the snow scraped bare to the ground and drag marks everywhere. They reached the top and saw…
Nothing.
No tents, no men, no Flynn. No chief. Nothing except a group ofgreen-clad rangers off in the distance and brown-clad sheriff’s deputies closer by.
“Hey!” one of the rangers yelled and waved. “Here! Over here!”
Hadley started running, along with the rest of the deputies. She could see the ranger kneeling as she drew closer, pulling at a blanket covering a long, narrow form. Body-sized.
She seized up. She didn’t want to go any farther, she didn’t want to know.
“He’s alive!”
Paul spotted her and waved his arm. “Hadley, it’s your chief. He’s okay.”
The warm rush of relief got her legs moving again. Officers were clustering around the still-unmoving form. She shouldered her way through. Van Alstyne was on his side in a sleeping bag, the opening rucked up around his head. He was on a thick pad, like the one he’d given her when they were camped not far from here, and a ranger held up the wool blanket that had covered him. “They didn’t leave him to freeze to death, at least.”
Pelletier squatted next to the chief and touched his face. “He threw up a little, see? They rolled him on his side.” He stood up. “Pierce, get the rescue basket. This man needs medical attention.”
“What happened to him?” Yíxin had joined the crowd.
