Page 22 of Canyon of Deceit
TWENTY-ONE
BLANE
The FBI team trekked toward the location where Therese and I planned a meetup, an area where the Rangers could land a helo and be less likely to encounter hostile rifle fire.
Still a possibility, but Therese and I had our binoculars to keep a lookout and warn them.
With the combined armed men, we’d find Alina and take down Chandler and his sidekick.
One of the FBI agents was a sniper and paramedic. Smart combo in case of a firefight, and Alina might need medical attention from exposure and whatever Chandler and the kidnapper might have inflicted. Until then, Therese and I hiked an off-trail path.
Her emotions earlier in the day demonstrated what I’d suspected—a deeper hurt drove her to risk her life for others. No surprise I recognized the same trait in me. We both carried boulders in our backpacks, refusing to give them up as though they were buds instead of enemies.
What were the chances of two people being thrown together in the middle of nowhere and struggling with painful issues from their pasts—one a Christian and the other angry with how God managed humans?
Guess I wanted to believe in something, but not the God I’d experienced.
I’d explored other religions, and all were a bunch of rituals.
The list of dos and don’ts along with the expectations that a person’s good deeds must outweigh the bad ones caused me to shove all of them into the same outhouse.
None of it made sense. No logical answers to why some people boasted extraordinary lives while others endured one tragedy after another.
Therese pointed to an incline ahead but gave me no eye contact. “There’s our approach. This climb is more than a boot path. It’s a slog. I’ll go first. Better I clear the way.”
“What are my instructions?” I grinned to ease the tension frosting between us since earlier in the day.
She ignored me. “The loose rocks are not to be taken lightly. So be extra careful. I’ll ensure solid footing every step of the way.” She indicated a few cracks in the upward terrain.
“What’s to keep you from falling?”
“I’ll do a free climb until I can anchor my rope. Besides it’s not far, and I have my partner to catch me.”
“Always.” I started to say my arms were open, but I held back to listen to every word.
“I’ll climb to the top and assure everything is safe. Once I anchor the rope, I’ll drop it to you. Use a hitch knot to secure it around your waist. Take it slow and you’ll be a rock star.” She nodded at jagged rock within inches of our feet. “Watch your balance. Note it’s straight down.”
Making a mistake came with a price tag—our lives. What if she slipped? I took another quick peek down at the death plunge.
Get your head in the game, Gardner.
I studied where she planned to scale and added a shot of bravado. “All right. It looks fairly simple. I’ll memorize every step you take and watch your rear all the way up.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll throw rocks at you.”
I adjusted my backpack and stared at the mass of sure death below us. “I’ll behave. Are you praying for us?”
“After what you just said? You’re a mess, but yes, I’m praying.”
Good, but I’d not admit it. “If I make the climb in one piece, I want to take you to dinner. You choose the place.”
“I’ll find the perfect spot once we’re back in Houston.”
“Deal.”
I inwardly winced with my fear of falling. But I’d not admit it. I was a Texas Ranger—the best of the best. Diablos Tejanos —Texan Devils. “One Riot, One Ranger.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m the best you’ve got.”
“How reassuring.” Therese studied the twisted vine and rock above us and anchored her hiking boot in a secure hold.
Stones broke free around her, but she stayed firm.
“See what I mean? The incline is not the biggest problem. It’s the loose rock.
Test your footage even where I find it safe.
I’ll give more instructions once I’m on higher ground. Slow and easy is the key.”
I held my breath with her every upward motion. As before, her body melded with the rough terrain, graceful, a work of art. I feared and admired this mystery woman. Never had I encountered such skill and courage.
She’d panic at the thud of my heart against my chest. I’d advised other Rangers that healthy respect of danger wasn’t a bad trait. Experience had taught me the sensation helped us choose our steps wisely and built our self-esteem in a healthy way. I needed to take my own advice.
Therese’s third and fourth footings met with success.
This trail deserved a blue ribbon as the worst I’d encountered.
Chandler had outsmarted us once, but he’d soon have his hands full with armed FBI agents and Rangers.
My headspace stayed in think-mode, while she took each slow step with assurance.
Sundown would come early, and no one wanted to be caught hiking at night. A reality check said the team behind us might not make it to us until the morning. Better in one piece and late than dead and unable to help Alina.
Therese reached the midway point to a plateau about twenty-five feet up. A burst of wind blew me off-balance. Stones, sand, and debris pelted my face and irritated my eyes.
I took a step backward.
My right foot slipped.
My left foot failed to anchor me, as though I steadied myself on rolling marbles.
I clawed my hands and fingers into whatever I could grab while sharp edges of rock scraped into my face and hands.
I twisted my body to roll the descent and protect myself, but I lost control and bounced like a rag doll.
A surreal mix of truth and wrenching panic surrounded me as I plummeted. If not so stubborn, I’d call out to God for help.
Therese’s frantic shouts drowned in my ears.
I’m going to die.
I dropped hard against rock, and my lower left arm cracked. My head seared with a heavy throb. Overwhelming darkness claimed my battered body.