Part 20 (1/2)
”This is the bush though. One mistake can be deadly.” Libby popped a piece of donut into her mouth. A hint of color began to come back to her face.
”We'll find her.” Haley put all the confidence she could muster into the statement.
”Would you pray with me?” Libby whispered. ”I'm so scared.”
Haley couldn't tell her prayer would do no good. Libby needed encouragement now, not derision. ”Okay,” she said. ”I'm not good at praying though.” G.o.d hadn't listened to her before. She held no hope that he would this time either, unless he loved Libby more. And he might. Libby had done nothing wrong. This wasn't her fault.
Libby took her hands. ”Can you do the praying? Every time I try to pray, the thoughts jumble in my head.”
”I haven't prayed in years,” she said.
Tears pooled in Libby's eyes. ”Please try,” she whispered.
Haley hung onto Libby's hands for dear life. ”G.o.d, help us find Brooke and Joy. You know where they are. Keep them safe and lead us to them. Amen.”
”Amen,” Libby said in a choked voice. ”Be with them, Jesus.” She wiped at her eyes. ”Thanks, Haley. I feel like I can tell you anything.”
Haley pointed to their right. ”Let's go back to the truck. The searchers should be here with their dogs shortly, and we can direct them.” Chickadees twittered above her head. Something squealed in the air, and she looked up to see a mouse caught in a peregrine falcon's talons. The bird soared on the thermal currents, then disappeared from sight. Haley s.h.i.+vered. She hoped it wasn't an omen. She turned her gaze back to the ground and moved carefully over the thick carpet of spruce needles. The ground wasn't quite so uneven here, and her gait was more sure and steady.
”I noticed you limping,” Libby said. ”Are you okay?”
”It's hard for me to walk on uneven ground,” Haley said. It had been so long since anyone had noticed she wasn't quite whole, and now the whole state seemed to know. In the city, she wore smart slacks and boots. She walked surely on hard pavement without a limp.
”Do you want to sit and rest?”
”I'm okay. We need to keep moving.”
”Want me to carry your camera?”
Haley put a protective hand over her camera. ”No, I'll keep it. You can carry my bag if you want.” She handed it to Libby.
Libby slung the bag over her shoulder. She paused and put her hand on Haley's arm. ”Listen! I hear dogs.”
Haley heard a bark, then several more. And voices.
”The search teams must be here.” She picked up her pace. They thrashed through the brambles and stumbled out onto the narrow lane. Two trucks and an SUV were parked behind the truck, and several people cl.u.s.tered together near the bed. They had dogs on leashes.
The pet.i.te young woman with dark red hair and green eyes whom she'd met at the wiener-dog race stepped forward to meet them. Her dog, a mix that looked like mostly German shepherd, moved with her.
He sniffed the air and looked keenly around. ”Bree Matthews,” she said. ”We met at the race. It's your child that's missing?”
”My sister is one of the children. The other is Libby's five-year-old niece.” She introduced Bree to Libby.
”This is Samson,” Bree said. She dusted pistachio sh.e.l.ls from her hands onto the ground. ”What can you tell me about the children?”
”We think they were taken by Brooke's aunt, and now all of them are missing in the bush,” Libby said.
A stalwart young man with kind blue eyes moved behind Bree. ”I'm Kade Matthews. Do you have an article that belongs to either of the girls? We'll get right to work.”
”Any special kind of article?” Libby asked.
”An unwashed sock or something that would be worn close to the body,” Kade said. ”Don't touch it. Put your hand inside a plastic bag to pick it up, then drop it in a paper bag.”
”I'll get it.” Libby turned and jumped into the truck then sped off toward the cabin.
”There might be some articles in the Jeep that belong to the woman. Would that work?”
”Do you want the dogs to sniff for the woman or the children?” Bree asked.
”They should be together.”
”We could put the other dogs on the woman. Samson can work off the freshest scent with the little girl's clothing.
Let them fan out.” Bree called the other two searchers to join them. ”Would you show them the vehicle?”
”It's this way.” Haley led them through the brambles to where the Jeep sat under the trees. She wrenched open the front door. ”You look there, and I'll check the back.” She took out the keys and went to the rear of the vehicle. It was empty except for a steel whistle. She grabbed it and hung it around her neck. It might come in handy if she got lost. She slammed the hatch back down and went to join the searchers at the front.
”Not much here, but the dogs can sniff the interior,” Bree said. She stepped aside and let the dogs nose the seat of the car. Their tails began to wag. ”They've got something.”
The truck came barreling back down the lane with Libby hunched over the wheel. Bree and Samson stepped out to meet her. The driver's door flew open, and Libby jumped out. ”I brought two socks.” She held a paper bag in her hand.
Bree took the bag from her and opened it, then held it down for the dog. Samson thrust his nose inside. He sniffed eagerly, then withdrew his nose and turned and strained toward the car. ”He's got the scent.” She knelt and unsnapped his leash. ”Search, Samson.” The dog bounded away. He ran off past the car with his tail held high.
For the first time, Haley began to think they might actually find the girls. She started following Bree and the rest of the searchers but soon fell behind. She couldn't run on the rough ground like the rest were doing. Within minutes, she found herself alone. Libby had forgotten she couldn't keep up as well.
Panic flared in her mind as Haley looked around and realized she had no idea where she was or how to get back to the truck. She had no cell phone, even if it would work out here, which it wouldn't.
Stop. Think. She forced herself not to run blindly. Thick spruce trees pressed in on all sides, and she smelled their sharp, pungent odor as she dithered and ground wet needles under her feet. Could she maybe follow her trail back to the truck? Or should she try to find the others? She listened, but all she could hear was the wind in the treetops and the gurgle of the river. The river. Would it take her where she needed to go?
She stepped a few feet to her right. It might not hurt to go there and see if there was any sign of the rest of the group. Following the sound of the rus.h.i.+ng water, she pressed through the underbrush. The noise grew louder. She stumbled into a depression in the ground and lost her footing. Her right leg buckled, and she fell facedown into the soft spruce needles. She lay there and inhaled the scent.
She smelled something else, something not so pleasant. It brought the taste of fear to her mouth as she remembered the bear standing over her. She shot to her feet and looked around, but she didn't see anything. The hair continued to stand up on the back of her neck, and her throat closed. She stepped to a nearby birch tree. Deep gouges above her head marred the bark. She tried to reach them, to run her fingers over the marks, but they were too high. A big bear had to have made them.
She glanced up. Maybe she could climb the tree. She would feel safer up there, and maybe she could see the rest of the group from higher up. She reached up and grabbed hold of the lowest limb. Hauling herself up, she swung her left leg over the branch. Her grip faltered, and she slipped back to the ground. She wiped her hands on her jeans and tried again. This time she managed to get onto the limb.
She lay there panting for a moment. The ground seemed far away. She edged back toward the trunk and managed to stand. She couldn't see anything. But she heard something. Looking down, she saw the hump on the back of the big bear as it moved toward the tree where she stood. The claw marks were about even with her foot.
She grasped the limb above her and hauled herself up. She managed to get both legs onto the limb, but she couldn't swing to the topside of it. The bear rose on its hind legs and stared straight into her face. She shrieked and struggled to get higher. It opened its mouth and roared, then reached up toward her.
”Go away, go away,” she shouted. She finally got on top of the limb and pulled her legs out of reach of the wicked-looking claws. Could grizzlies climb trees? She had read somewhere that they could, but maybe that wasn't true. Frantic, she grabbed the limb above her head. She had to get higher. Her leg throbbed, and her hands burned from being sc.r.a.ped raw by the bark. The bear began to shake the tree. She shrieked and clung to the branch with all her strength. The bear dropped to all fours and moved to the other side of the tree.
She climbed higher until the branches began to thin out and she was afraid they might break. The bear circled the tree beneath her, pausing occasionally to shake the tree. She stared down at its humped back as it lumbered around and around. What would happen if she got too tired? She straddled the limb and hung on as tightly as she could. As she moved, the whistle around her neck swung against her chest, and she grabbed it. She'd forgotten all about it.
She pulled it to her lips and blew on it with all her strength. The piercing shriek hurt her ears. The bear grunted and ran off toward the river. She could only hope one of the searchers heard it.
Twenty-Three.