Page 30 of Canyon of Deceit

TWENTY-NINE

BLANE

I’d been on stakeouts, waited out bad guys, been a moving target, and hit by bullets, but nothing compared to each slow minute with the tormenting sledgehammer pounding in my arm and a dizzying throb in my head.

I’d gotten to the point of being willing to welcome Chandler into my camp.

Or offering to share a military ration with a bear, including the chocolate bar.

I added another log to the fire and admired the sparks of red and yellow.

At dusk the dirt-covered mound containing the agave would be ready to eat.

Hunger weakened me, and my head thumped.

Taking a sip of water, I gauged Therese might be back tomorrow.

I missed her, my gorgeous wilderness-survival expert.

The crack of rifle fire jolted me straight up. Then another. The origin confused me, or was my fever-stricken body messing with my head? Therese, are you okay? I gasped. Was the rescue team in a firefight? I wanted a repeat of rifle fire to confirm someone had taken out Chandler.

Like always, in moments with idle time on my hands, my thoughts veered back to Wendy.

My mother said forgiving myself was more about me than Wendy’s inability to keep my truck on the road.

I’d be the first to offer that advice to someone else, but deep down I deserved the condemnation.

My fault. I’d cursed her. And God’s fault. He allowed the accident to happen.

Blane, you’ve held on to this for too long.

Startled, I swung to find the origin of the voice. No one but me in the outcropping of rocks. The horror of fever and infection in my arm seized me, convincing me I’d heard a man’s voice in my delirium. Was God lecturing me? How could someone I didn’t believe in talk to me?

Please, shelter Therese and Alina from harm.

Who was I talking to? Surely not God? Where had the high altitude and my battered body taken my mind?

Perspiration dripped down the sides of my face, and I shivered. I examined what I could see around the makeshift splint. Sure enough, the stitched area above my elbow where Therese had sewn me up flamed hot, red, and swollen. I changed the bandage and applied antibiotic ointment.

Closing my eyes, I drifted into the in-between world of semiconsciousness. Falling asleep between throbs of pain only to waken with my head and arm in a burst of agony.

Therese, are you okay? Have you found the rescue team and Alina?

I craved to hear her voice like a miracle drug. Being alone with her these past few days had ignited old emotions and deepened the longing for a relationship. My attraction spurred me to leave behind a better legacy in death than the one I’d created.

I lay flat under the rock and pulled the blanket over me. Hold on. This was Therese’s blanket. Somewhere out there she’d suffer without a covering to keep her warm. Why hadn’t I paid attention instead of allowing my fall to control every move?

I slid my knife from my front pants pocket and groaned through the movement to sit. My arm hurt like someone held a match to it, but I had a job to do. I stumbled to the dwindling stack of wood and tossed one on the small fire. Soon a semblance of heat warmed me.

A few feet to the left lay dried brush and pieces of kindling.

Biting back the dizziness, I made my way over rocks and gathered more kindling and wood, what I could find.

One of the pieces would sharpen into a weapon.

I glanced about for a narrow limb to use as a crutch and keep my balance.

Took me the better part of two hours to find one.

More than once, I stopped to endure the damage done to my body.

When this ordeal hit the closed file, I’d invest in ibuprofen stock.

Glancing at the sky, I calculated about three hours left of daylight. Time to check out the valley for a friendly park ranger. My body fought each step, and I vowed to clamp the cuffs on Chandler.

Leaning against a waist-high rock, I gave my body a rest and stared out over the landscape.

Leaving the items at the bottom of a canyon in my backpack rubbed against my training—a phone at the top of my list. The rescue team carried those essentials, including binoculars.

I waved my crutch in the air. “Help.” My voice echoed around me.

Only silence met my frantic call.

My concerns swept back to Therese. I wanted her safe with the rescue team, but what if Chandler had her?

I shook and fell to my knees until my head cleared.

My response had nothing to do with the wind but my helpless body that couldn’t protect Therese.

Chandler’s reputation for torturing made my skin crawl.

If he hurt her or Alina, he’d taste the smoking end of my gun.

I limped back to the mound of dirt that buried the agave and used my trowel to dig into the hole.

I slid to my knees with the blinding pain in my head, piercing my resolve to man up.

Using my knife, I cut into the agave and poked a piece into my mouth.

The sticky, sweet substance had a squash-like flavor.

I ate my fill, washed it down with rationed water, and covered the agave back up.

Therese had said it contained lots of calories and nutrients for the body.

Great remedy if it healed the infection in my arm and eliminated the pain.

Loneliness shadowed me and my concern for others.

I should be carrying a gun and tracking down a vicious criminal.

Instead, I faced a long night and too much anxiety for even a healthy man.

I added dried vegetation and kindling to the fire, creating smoke to rise into a star-flecked sky.

Using my blanket, I sent a help message through a series of three smoke signals.

Therese would have instructed me to build three triangle fires, but that was impossible.

Every twenty minutes I sent another message until I totaled five messages.

In the morning, I’d attempt to carry brush and kindling to the higher elevation, make a fire, and repeat the smoke routine.

I’d like nothing better than for a park ranger to investigate who’d broken the rules to build a fire.

God, if You’re real, keep those in danger safe.