Timberline Trail (16 page)

Turning
the key in the ignition, she held her breath, praying the fuel line hadn’t been damaged.

The engine ground endlessly before finally tur
ning over, the radio bursting into life as Sting warbled about desert roses and warm sun. Stunned, it took the nearly paralyzed Tia a full minute to find the off switch for the tuner. Heart thudding, she fumbled with the two-way radio and heater but both were positively useless. She searched the dash and the floorboards one more time, discovering a grease-stained olive blanket shoved under the seat. Tia placed the soiled mess upon the seat and circled the exterior of the truck once more. It was her awkward oversized boot that struck the buried walkie-talkie tightly wedged against a protruding stump under the snow.

The apparatus actually emitted a burst of static as Tia snatched it up and played with the controls.
The glowing red light gleaming from the top right hand corner indicated the battery still held some life so Tia pushed the communications switch and sent a desperate message to whoever could hear.

“This is Tia Heath.
Can anyone read me? Please respond!” She repeated the message six times before a weak voice squeaked across the line.

“Tia!
Tia!” A burst of static caused her to flinch. “This is Tory. Where are you?”

“In the Ford
pickup. Where are you?”

She felt rather than heard the mighty shiver burs
ting from his frightened teenaged voice. “They were shooting at us Tia!”

“Who Tory?
Try to calm down. Who?”

“Paul and I were in the Ford he got from
Roy. I caught up with him in my snowmobile by taking all the cross-country shortcuts and he placed my glider in the back since it was getting so cold. We were almost to your place when someone started shooting. These two men just came out of nowhere and blasted the windshield. The shots barely missed me!”

“Are you alright Tory?”
Tia asked.

“J
ust got a few glass cuts on my face. The Ford plunged over the embankment and I opened up the car door and jumped out. The snowmobile slid halfway down the hill and I just hit the ground running and caught up with it. I gunned that sucker and headed off. I... I don’t know what happened to Paul.”

“Neither do I.
Where are you Tory?”

The brittle clacking
sound over the line had to be his teeth chattering. “I headed to Saul’s old closed-up cabins near Crane Lake and broke a window in one of the units and slept there last night.”

“Tory
listen. You’ve got to head back to Timberline and send help. I think Paul may have been killed and some men, who were shooting at Jon and me, have taken over my cabin.”

“Jon?
Jon who?”

“Never mind.
You’ve got to get Jayce out here and pronto.”

The boy stuttered, the static breaking up his words.
“But... but I don’t know if I have enough fuel.”

“You’ve got to try Tory.
Promise me you’ll try. Break into the cabins and office to get what you need; I’ll explain it to the sheriff later. Just scoot back to Timberline and send some help.”

“I will Tia.
”

“Saul used to have a storage room where he kept lots of equipment.
He might even have some fuel in cans. I’ll try to contact you later and will leave this line open.”

“Are you ok
ay Tia?”

“Just a little cold.
I’ll hike over to Saul’s cabins but it will take me several hours. There’s no time to lose, so head out.”

“Ok
ay Tia. I’ll send back help soon. Don’t you worry.”

“I won’t Tory.
Godspeed.” A mighty burst of static indicated Tory had switched off the walkie-talkie.

An incredible wave of weariness passed over her and she crawled back into the cab
and brushed off the seat with the greasy green blanket before draping it around her, determined to rest for only a minute. Her head drooped and her shoulders sagged and without intending it she fell into a deep, numbing sleep.

Someone
shook her violently and after administering a stinging slap to her nearly numb cheeks her eyes burst wide open.

“Tia, Tia!
You’ve got to wake up!” Jon’s manner and tone were as rough as ever, but his insistent voice managed to penetrate the fog she’d sunk into. His face appeared drained and white and a streak of blood crusted the side of his face. He hauled her from the frigid truck and Tia threw her arms around him.

“Jon, I couldn’t find you!
I circled the region adjacent to the stream, but somehow got disoriented. I luckily ran across my own footprints and ran into the Ford.” She managed to catch her breath enough to ask, “What made you return to the truck?”

“I heard th
e radio. You know, I’ve never cared much for Sting but he led me right to you. I’ll have to buy one of his CD’s in appreciation. Tia, if I hadn’t come you... you would have frozen to death.”

Tia col
d cheeks flamed scarlet. She’d disobeyed the first rule of winter survival and allowed herself to fall asleep. “I... I was so tired.”

“It’s ok
ay sweetheart, but we’ve got to get out of here. If I heard the radio, they may have as well.”

“W
e’ve got to find shelter. The sun will be setting in less than two hours.”

“I may have a place, one I discovered on one of my photo treks.
Can you walk?”

“Of course.
Oh!” Her miraculous find suddenly came back to her and she handed him the walkie-talkie. “I found Tory’s two-way radio in the snow. He managed to escape with his snowmobile and is at Saul’s cabins near Crane Lake. He promised me he’d head back to Timberline and get us some help.”

“
That’s amazing! He’s Nancy’s boy right?”

“Yes.”

Jon rubbed his cold hands together. “Do you think he can make it?”

“I hope so.
He’s lived in Alaska all his life. Hopefully he understands nature’s whims enough to survive. I told him to break into the cabins and take whatever he needs. I’ll explain it to Jayce later.”

“Jayce?”

“The sheriff.”

“At least we know he’s safe. We’ve got to hurry... the temperature’s dropping fast!”

Jon trotted
off at a brisk pace after Tia wrapped the dingy blanket around her shoulders, grateful for the tingling in her feet. At least they weren’t frozen yet. Only then she noticed he carried his large dark olive backpack as well as the rifle.

She sidled up beside him.
“Where did you get the bag?”

Jon snorted in laughter.
“That French-Canadian and Steve sprinted after us like a coyote running down a chicken. I waited until they hurried by and then circled back and grabbed up my backpack and extra cartridges. You ought to see the damage to my Jeep.” He paused. “Your truck’s completely destroyed Tia. Those bastards have a lot to pay for.” Tia flinched and Jon gave her shoulders a rough squeeze. “Anyway, I was just about to try and enter your cabin to use the short-wave radio when the door opened and a third man holding a rifle ventured outside. I waited until he strolled for the tree line and then bolted in the opposite direction. For all we know, there could be more.”

“What did he look like?”

“Fairly average. He wore a green and yellow jacket and a baseball cap or something. He was tall and lean and had a brown mustache.”

“He sounds
just like the man I spotted from Anthony’s Lookout.”

“Anthony’s...
?”

“
Lookout; a place I named after my dad from where you can see the cabin and all the surrounding vicinity.”

“
Any shelter?”

“No.
It’s unfortunately wide open and terribly breezy. You said you knew another place?”

“Yeah, about a quarter of a mile due north across the river
. There’s a group of large rocks housing a pretty good-sized cave. I found it while tracking a black bear over a week ago. At one time bears used the cave to hibernate, but I’m hoping we won’t have any of the furry tenants there today. Are you game?”

“Of course,” said Tia stoutly.

“One thing I can say about you girl, you’ve got spunk. Let’s move then.”

It took them nearly
two hours to reach the cave. Between huge slippery rocks and the Bear River they had to reroute twice and what had originally appeared to be less than an hour’s journey ended up nearly ninety minutes by the time they reached the river. While the Bear isn’t considered a huge river, at some places it spans a good fifteen feet across with swiftly moving white-tipped water. They searched in vain for a crossing point until Jon finally gave up, indicating they had to ford it even if it meant getting their feet wet since the sun was about to set.

A half-rotten log lay
suspended over part of the river and they both teetered to the end of it before Jon gingerly placed his feet into the foot-deep river, splashing as quickly as he dared to the other side. Tia followed suit but the damage was already done. Water immediately seeped into her boots, instantly turning her toes numb. Jon inspected the bottom of her snow pants and shook his head grimly.

“We’ve got to find shelter quick
ly before our feet freeze! The boulders are right over there and directly behind them is the cave.”

Tia trailed behind, watching
Jon squeeze his body between two flatiron type rocks and disappear into the dark.

“Just a moment,” he shouted
, after Tia pushed her body between the two cold slabs of rock.

Pulling
a torch from his bag he illuminated a circular cave, the size of a good-sized room, which smelt dank and musty. His flashlight swung left and right and Tia noted inoffensive piles of dried dung and straggly grass spotting the sandy surface.

“Will this do?” asked Jon
, leaning his rifle against a white boulder.

“Of course.”
The cave felt warmer than outside, the heavy boulders sheltering it from the brisk wind.

“
Maybe we can make a fire since there’s a thin fissure between the rocks at the top of the cave.”

He lay d
own his pack and once again squeezed through the crevice to forage for dry kindling. Tia dropped the rough green blanket upon the ground and grabbing up the torch examined the cave in the dim light. The small cavern extended out only a few yards in the shape of an Apache wickiup, its ceiling rising a good twenty feet from the cave floor. Roots from an old dead tree broke through the ancient rock and Tia twisted off a thick piece. The size of her arm, it would burn well.

Tia slipped out of the cave to join
Jon in his search for wood and kindling. He appeared a couple minutes later dragging a large dead log behind him. Over the next few minutes the pair broke off the extending limbs and managed to drag the main trunk of the log into their shadowy shelter. Night suddenly fell in one obscuring swoop as the exhausted sun sank behind the ridge.

In the dimness of the cave Tia whispered
, “You wouldn’t have any matches by chance?”

“I’ve got something much better
, thank you,” said Jon, whipping a lighter out of his parka pocket with a flourish.

“Thank God.
I’m not very good at rubbing two sticks together. Where on earth did you get that?”

“It’
s just luck really. Ben smokes a cigar and is always stashing extra lighters in everyone’s pockets because he’s so absent-minded. During our Amazonian expedition he must have given a lighter to every one of our porters just so he’d always have a light. Hopefully it contains enough fuel to ignite our fire. And what do we have here?” Jon reached into his other pocket and pulled out a piece of crumpled newspaper. “Hmm, an ad for portable tents dated six weeks ago.”

He tore off tiny strips
of paper, placing them strategically around the log and sticks. Tia added dry grass and crossed her fingers as Jon flicked the lighter against the curling edges of the paper. The flame flared orange before igniting the small pieces of dry kindling and grass. Jon leaned over and gently blew until the branches he’d piled atop the log began to smoke. With a sudden whooshing sound the brittle log burst into flame.

“That’s a relief,” he said
, taking off his gloves. His fingertips were white.

“Are you frost-
bitten?” asked Tia startled, reaching for his lean hands after removing her own gloves. Her fingers, though numb, were only reddened.

“I don’t know,” Jon said. “I lost feeling in them about thirty minutes ago.
My gloves are a lot thinner than yours.”

Tia tucked
his hands between hers and began to rub rapidly. He finally flexed his stiff fingers.

“That’s better;
it’s tingling, so hopefully I won’t loose the tips of either them or my ears to frostbite.” He swallowed, clearly reluctant to suggest what they needed to do next. “Tia, we’ve got to remove our boots.”