Sabotaged (5 page)

Reef guided Kirra toward the trail. Numbness now consumed his legs, his limbs feeling like tree stumps—heavy and clumsy. Kirra teetered with each step beside him. They needed to get out of the snowdrift, and the only way out was to move to the trail. It was risky, but they couldn't continue on like this. They stepped from the snow onto the trail, and Kirra's leg caught on a sled rut, flailing her forward. His tight hold kept her from hitting the ground, but it took a moment to get her mostly upright. A whimper escaped her lips as she planted her feet on the ground and shifted clumsily to take the weight off her right foot.

“You okay?”

“Just twisted my ankle. I'm fine.”

The pain etched on her pale face said otherwise. A face that was too pale and slightly puffy. Hypothermia was setting in. They needed to reach the shelter and soon.

The purr of a motor sounded in the distance, and his heart dropped.

“One of the SAR team?” Kirra said with hope.

He prayed so, but chances were . . .

He yanked her back toward the trees, moving in a diagonal toward the icy-covered rocks cresting the edge of the woods. It was a dangerous maze to maneuver but would hide their footprints. Unfortunately the ones on the trail were still visible despite the heavily falling snow.

Kirra bit back a grunt, clearly favoring her ankle, but kept up with his pace.

Reef nestled them behind the copse of trees.

“You think it's him?” Kirra whispered as the snowmobile pulled into view.

“I pray not.”

A second snowmobile came into view, both with single riders.

Reef's chest tightened. It had to be their attacker, and he'd brought a friend.

Reef signaled Kirra to remain still. The snowmobiles pulled idle.

“Why'd you stop, Bruce?” Irritation edged the second snowmobile driver's voice. Their attacker—he recognized the voice.

“I thought I saw movement.” The other man's gaze swept over the tree line.

Reef pressed his back firmly against the tree, praying,
Please, Lord, don't
let them see us. Mask us with this storm. Hide
us and protect us.

“It was probably a moose,” their attacker said.

“I don't know . . .”

“What I don't know is why we're even still out here. I told you there's no way they survived the night.”

“I'm being thorough. Something you don't seem to grasp.”

Their attacker stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“If you had been thorough, they would have been dead.”

“They are dead!”

“Show me their bodies.”

“I hit the man.”

“And the girl?”

“Please, like she could survive out here, on her own, with no equipment. She probably holed up someplace and died.”

“He said to make sure they aren't going to be a problem, and that's what I'm doing.”

“Fine, but I'm moving on. It's not my responsibility to traipse all over this frozen wasteland looking for two dead people.”

“It was your
responsibility
to make sure Frank didn't tell them anything. If he did and they managed to survive, our entire plan could be compromised.”

“
Our
plan?”

“Yes.
Ours
. It belongs to all of us.”

“Fine. Then, let's get back to it instead of chasing after ghosts.”

Bruce scanned the tree line once again, then climbed off his snowmobile, moving toward where Reef and Kirra had broken through the snow.

Their attacker rose up in his seat. “What now?”

“Something came through here.”

“Like I said, probably a moose. Look, I've had enough of this. I'm heading back in. You do what you want.” He took off, leaving a spray of snow flying in his wake.

Bruce cussed and returned to his snowmobile. He started the engine and sped off in the direction of the Rainy Pass checkpoint.

Reef slumped against the tree, relief and apprehension streaming through him. “Thank you, Lord.” He'd masked and sheltered them. He prayed God would continue to do so as they worked their way back to the checkpoint.

What plan was the man referencing? And where were they
headed? The checkpoint? Surely they wouldn't show their faces there. Reef hadn't seen much of them, with their hoods and ski masks on. But the first man's voice—the one who'd shot him—that he'd definitely recognize.

Kirra peered around the tree. “We should get moving. I think we're safe to stick to the trail now.”

“I think you're right.” No way they'd catch up with the men on snowmobiles.

Wind whistled through the trees, growing in strength as Kirra's body heat slipped away. It was bone-chillingly cold. There was no warmth left in her, but she kept moving. Movement was essential to keep the blood flowing. Frostbite was definitely setting in. She wasn't feeling much pain from her sprain, but she didn't know if that was because it wasn't as bad as she'd feared or because her ankle was freezing.

She'd spent the day trying to forget the feel of Reef's lips on hers, but the intense memory still replayed through her mind. She'd thought it'd been a dream until she licked her lips and tasted him.

He hadn't brought it up. Maybe he'd thought it a dream too, maybe he didn't remember, or maybe he just didn't care. Whatever the reason for his silence on the matter, she was thankful. It had been a mistake. A wonderful mistake, but a mistake all the same.

When she'd learned a couple years back that Meg was dating Reef, jealousy had reared its ugly head. It was ridiculous. He had never been hers, nor would he ever be. But the jealousy had tugged all the same. The two had first met when Meg visited Yancey the summer between Reef and Kirra's
junior and senior year of high school. How they'd managed to meet up years later in Anchorage, she didn't know, but it wasn't worth asking. He owed her no answers.

She exhaled. Back then she'd wondered what it felt like to touch Reef's body, his lips. Now she knew, and it was every bit as wonderful as she'd imagined.
More so
. But it was still ridiculous. Reef McKenna fell for girls like her cousin Meg, not her.

Meg
. Kirra's heart winced. What was her cousin enduring right now while they moved like snails back to Rainy Pass? If only she could will her legs to move faster. But all it seemed she could focus on was that heady kiss. Why did everything turn sideways when she was around Reef?

She forced herself to shake off the delicious yet unnerving thoughts and turned her attention to the sky overhead. What minimal light there was in the endless gray blanketing the sky was vanishing. It'd be night soon, and based on the last landmark they passed—the trail split at Wallow's Creek—they still had a few miles to go.

She lumbered on. Her right foot caught on something, and she pitched forward as pain ricocheted up her leg.

“Kirra!” Reef's strong arms kept her from colliding with the ground once again.

She tried to fight the weariness engulfing her, but it was too much. She was holding him back. He could have been to the shelter by now, and he was the one with a gunshot graze. It was ridiculous. “You go on. I'm holding you back.”

“You're crazy if you think I'd leave you out here.”

“You can send help back for me after you reach the shelter.” After he was safe.

“I'm not leaving you out here.” He bent over her, slipping his arms beneath her, and hefted her up.

Was
he
crazy? “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.”

“You've been shot, and
you're
carrying
me
?”

“It was a flesh wound, Kirra. You said it yourself—the bullet just grazed me. I'm fine. Besides, the cold numbs the pain. I haven't felt anything in hours.”

Great. So they'd both die of frostbite and hypothermia.

“You can't carry me.”

He smiled, the ice cracking around his lips. “I already am.”

“Reef . . .”

“We don't have far to go. I'll be fine.”

“We've still got a couple miles.”

He tightened his hold. “Is that all?”

The man was crazy.

Kirra prayed the men weren't watching this last portion of the trail, but she feared otherwise.

“I'm going to take us off trail for this last part,” Reef said. “Not far, but—”

“The men might be watching from near the checkpoint.” She finished his thought, or rather he'd finished hers.

Reef nodded.

The wind whipped hard, slashing against Kirra's back as they moved from the trail. Fighting her instincts, she pressed tight against Reef's body, letting him warm her, and positioning her back to take the brunt of the wind.

Please, Father, let us make it. I'
ve never been this cold.

“Gage.” Darcy's hand rested over his on the gearshift. “We need to head in.”

“We've got a little while longer.”

“It's almost dark, and you're heading away from the shelter.”

“Just one more sweep.”

“Ben's already let us sweep way longer than he originally agreed to.” Night and another storm were closing in. The other communication and SAR volunteers had already moved on to Rohn to get ahead of it, leaving them on sweeper duty, but they were seriously pushing the limits. Continuing the search with the burgeoning conditions was beyond dangerous, but this was his brother's and Kirra's lives at stake.

Gage increased the throttle.

“Maybe we're going about this wrong,” Darcy yelled over the roar of the engine.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“We've been sweeping the trail.”

“Right?”

“Maybe they aren't sticking to the trail.”

“Why wouldn't they be on the trail?”

“Why would they leave their snowmobile?”

“Because the spark plugs were missing.”

“Which brings us to ask, who would take their spark plugs while they were away from the snowmobile?”

“We can ask them that when we find them.” He'd been wondering the very same thing, but he had to remain focused. Finding his brother and Kirra was what mattered. Whatever occurred with the snowmobile and why his brother and Kirra weren't with it was troubling, but hashing and rehashing the possibilities with no way of knowing the answers would be of zero help in locating them.

“I still think we should be looking for them off trail,” Darcy said.

“No air force pilot is going to fly in this storm. Not until it eases some.”

“Then
we
search. Direct our headlights or the floodlight off trail.”

Not a bad idea. “Definitely worth a shot.”

An hour later he approached the edge of Rainy Pass. He'd kept Darcy out too long. It was time to drop her off and head back out, regardless of the danger. He couldn't in good conscience stay warm in the shelter when his brother and Kirra were out there.

Gage approached the checkpoint from the west, slowing along the last tree line leading in. Darcy swung the floodlight she'd brought across the snowy expanse.

“Wait!” she hollered.

He pulled to a stop.

“What?” He scanned the ridge.

“Reef?” she hollered.

“Darcy?”

Relief swarmed Gage at the sound of his younger brother's voice.

Reef's hunched form stepped into the light. He was carrying Kirra. What had happened?

Back at the Rainy Pass station, Reef settled into the chair by the wood stove, but only after he'd made sure Kirra was being seen to. He feared the lingering effects of frostbite.

Gage hunkered down beside him, handing him a steaming mug of broth. “Here. Drink this.”

Reef clasped his cold fingers around the warm ceramic. “Thanks.”

“So you care to explain what's going on? Why were you out there? And, why weren't you on the trail?”

“He was still looking for us. Off trail seemed safest.”

Gage frowned. “Who was looking for you?”

Reef explained all that had happened—their encounter with Kirra's uncle Frank, his cryptic message, the man with the gun, the sabotaged snowmobile—Gage had told them the spark plugs were missing—and the second man helping track them today.

“What do the men want with Meg and Frank?”

“I don't know. That's what Kirra and I have to find out.”

A slight smile tugged at Gage's worried face.

Reef arched a brow. “What?”

Gage shook his head. “Nothing.”

Reef considered prodding but decided it was probably safer to let it go. He knew that look, knew it had to do with Gage's observation of him and Kirra—and he wasn't ready to go there. He had no idea what was going on with them. Well, he knew he had feelings for her, but when it came to her, he doubted she felt the same, or felt anything other than irritation for him. But that kiss . . . The memory of it had been the only thing keeping him warm in the ferocious elements.