Page 34 of Danger in the Wilderness (National Park Protectors #1)

D ekker mustered strength into his weary legs and pressed forward, climbing the steep trail toward the old cabin near the Woodtut Cliffs.

Both Jayla and his mother tried to talk him out of risking his life, but in the end, they understood why Dekker had to do what he had to do.

He needed to save his best friend, Frank Hoyt, and the woman he’d fallen for. He couldn’t let them die.

Even if it meant sacrificing his own life for theirs.

Nothing was going to stop him, including his mother’s tears.

Her prayer circle had prayed for him before he packed his bag with essentials and checked his weapon—twice. A chopper had dropped him off in a clearing at the base of Woodtut Mountain. It was the only way he’d be able to beat PCK’s clock.

That was ninety minutes ago. He was closer to the cabin, but the weather had turned and the dark clouds opened, sending sheets of rain pummeling him.

Lightning flashed seconds before a thunderous roar answered.

The Woodtut Mountains were dangerous in the best of times, but even worse with a storm.

However, Dekker couldn’t stop now.

Crack!

Lightning struck a tree in his path, splitting it in two, sending one half crashing toward Dekker.

He jumped to the side but lost his footing and tumbled over the cliff’s edge. Dekker yelled and his arms flailed as he struggled to catch hold of tree branches sprouting from the mountain wall. God, help me! I need to save them.

His hand clasped a root as his wrist slammed against the stone, breaking his GPS watch.

Dekker ignored the pain shooting through his injured arm and kicked his hiking boot toe into the cliff.

He must gain traction to scale back up, but in order to get to the top and save his loved ones, he required courage. And he knew where to turn.

It was time.

God, I’m literally hanging on to You right now. I’m sorry about everything. For my doubts. The lies I believed about You. For abandoning You. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

“Forgive your father.”

His mother’s words shouted in Dekker’s brain as another lightning bolt struck nearby.

I do. I forgive Dad. Help me to be able to tell him that.

Even in the storm, peace and hope strengthened Dekker’s grip.

I trust You.

Dekker climbed, gripping root by root and kicking his toe into the wall as he went. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he reached the top and scrambled to safety.

His head pounded, but he staggered forward and veered to the left to evade the cliff’s edge. He wouldn’t take another tumble off the side.

Fifteen minutes later, he dropped to his knees to get a bearing on his location.

But he had no recollection of his position.

Terror gripped his body as a memory emerged of him in the woods as a child, only to realize…

He was lost.

And his GPS was broken.

No!

He buried his head in his hands as tears flooded like the surrounding storm. God, help me.

Keep your eyes to the skies and ears in nature.

His father’s motto.

Dekker shot to his feet and looked up, ignoring the rain washing over his face. He did what his father taught him to do. He listened. Looked. Waited.

For nature to give him his bearings.

He tuned out the rain and focused on the forest’s sounds. Then looked around. The flowing waterfall to the right and the stone pile to his left told him exactly where he was. The cabin was just ahead, through the cluster of trees.

He hadn’t gotten lost after all.

He’d just taken a different path.

Dekker smiled at the irony. God had been trying to tell him all along what path to take, and Dekker kept ignoring Him.

No more.

Dekker withdrew his weapon and crouch-walked around the stone pile, sneaking behind trees to get to the front of the cabin.

He scanned the area. All stood quiet, but Dekker knew.

Manny was watching. Waiting.

Yes, Dekker had come alone, but he made sure Chase knew his exact destination and prayed backup was on their way. He drew in a long breath, summoning courage.

Time to face the Park Campfire Killer.

***

Creak! The noise coming from the rickety cabin’s steps told Blaire one thing.

Dekker had arrived and was about to walk into a trap.

And she couldn’t let him.

“Dekker! Trap!”

Manny unleashed his weapon and pistol-whipped her across the face. “Shut up, or—” He pointed his gun at Frank. “I’ll kill him right now.”

Her hand flew to her face to nurse the sting from PCK’s blow.

Manny leaned closer to her. “Do you understand?”

She nodded, biting her lip to stop the tears forming behind her eyelids. Don’t show your attacker you’re scared.

Once again, her father’s words penetrated her memory.

Blaire held her ground.

“Time to greet our guest.” Manny rushed from the room.

Thankfully, their captor hadn’t drugged them further, and the effect was wearing off. Her head cleared, and she racked her brain for other tactics her father taught her.

Blaire suppressed a gasp.

A secret her father instilled in her brain after he’d rescued her from the trafficking ring.

Always keep a bobby pin in your pocket. You never know when you could use that secret weapon.

Blaire checked to ensure Manny had closed the door behind him. She sat up and fished the bobby pin from her hair that was hiding under her scrunchie. She needed to act fast. Thankfully, the best of the best had taught her well.

She pried the pin apart and shimmied close to her ankle.

Remembering what Chief Constable Justin Tremblay taught her, she carefully maneuvered the pin into the hole to fashion the bobby pin “key” into the form needed to snap the lock free.

Seconds later, she inserted her key into the cuff, released the lock and opened her restraints from her ankle.

“How did you learn to do that?” Frank whispered.

She gingerly stepped onto the floor, being careful to put her weight onto her good ankle, and hopped over to Frank. “My father was a cop.” She winked and inserted her key into Frank’s cuff, freeing him.

He sat up.

“Wait.” She eased him back down. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“I trust my son, and I’m pretty sure he trusts you, so yes.”

“Stay on the cot and pretend you’re sleeping. We’ll get you out of here. God’s got us.” Blaire inched her way over to the door, positioning herself behind the opening. Not having strength in both ankles may prove to be a problem, but to save the man she was falling for, she’d endure the pain.

Wait—did she just admit to herself Dekker had torn down her walls?

Now she had to tell him.

***

Dekker raised his Glock and slipped quietly into the cabin, being careful to take small steps. He knew Manny waited for him, but Dekker wasn’t going down without a fight. A metallic smell assaulted Dekker’s nose. Not good. God, give me strength.

He entered the shadowy room and blinked to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He wouldn’t turn on his flashlight and give away his position. Remembering his father’s motto, Dekker stopped, listened and waited.

A squeak farther into the cabin sounded, telling Dekker he definitely wasn’t alone.

As that wasn’t a mouse.

Dekker had visited this cabin a few times and knew the layout. Main living area with a rustic kitchen and one bedroom off to the right.

That was where Manny was holding Blaire and Frank Hoyt.

And where Dekker had to get to.

First, he had to cross the living room floor.

Dekker shuffled forward.

Creak!

Dekker pivoted, but not fast enough.

Something hard crashed down on his arm, knocking his Glock from Dekker’s grip.

The gun clattered to the floor.

Light exploded into the room.

Dekker squinted to adjust his eyes to the blinding brightness.

“Welcome to my torture room.” Manny’s normally carefree voice turned menacing.

Dekker’s gaze flew to Manny Boone. “How could you? You’re supposed to protect lives.”

The park warden rolled his eyes. “Oh, like the wardens protected me when I was thirteen and hurt in the wilderness. Or like the ones who failed to find little Hillary. I. Don’t. Think. So.”

“Your friend Travis Moore told us what happened to you.” Dekker analyzed the room.

Broken chairs lay on the floor, ropes dangled from the armrests. Dried blood caked the weathered hardwood floors.

This was where the Park Campfire Killer had held his prisoners and tortured them. Dekker cringed.

“Travis should have kept his mouth shut.” Manny snickered. “So be it. It’s just as well. You’ll die here along with your father and girlfriend. I’ll put your bodies at the final tips of the flame. Your resting place.”

“And the end of your sick game?”

“Oh, friend. I’m only getting started. Didn’t you hear? I’m moving to British Columbia. I hear the Rocky Mountains calling my name. Don’t worry though. I’ll give it a few months before I select my next victims.”

“You really are evil. Don’t you think you’ve killed enough innocent people?”

“Innocent? Hardly. I want to become Canada’s most notorious serial killer.” He waved the gun toward the bedroom door. “Stop stalling. I’m pretty sure after you figured out where I was, you informed the others. But I’ll be long gone by the time they get here.” He shoved Dekker. “Move!”

God, show me what to do.

Dekker staggered toward the door. “You don’t have to do this.”

Manny poked him in the back with his gun. “Yes. I. Do. I’m tired of you always winning. This time, Gage will see your failure.” He nudged him harder. “Go.”

Dekker eased it open and stepped inside.

His father lay on the cot beside the window, but the other was vacant. Dekker caught a whiff of lavender mixed with smoke. Blaire was behind the door and required a distraction. He lunged forward and pretended he tripped.

The door crashed into Manny. His weapon flew from his hand and skidded across the hardwood.

Dekker whirled around and headbutted into Manny. The pair tumbled together onto the floor and engaged in a crocodile roll.

Shuffling motions sounded nearby, distracting Dekker.

Manny punched him in the face and extracted a knife from the back of his waistline, hurtling forward.

A shot rang out.

Manny’s eyes widened before he dropped.

Dekker turned to find the gun in his father’s hand. “Dad!”

Blaire placed her fingers on Manny’s neck. “He’s dead.”

Activity sounded at the front of the cabin and in the living room. “Police! Stand down.” Chase burst into the room.

“Quinton, Manny is dead.” Blaire pointed at Frank. “Frank saved us.”

Chase hustled to Frank and held out his hand. “Pass me the gun.”

He obeyed.

Dekker pushed himself upright and flew into his father’s arms, disregarding the others in the room. “Dad, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

His father released him, holding him at arm’s length. “For what, son?”

“All the terrible things I’ve said to you. For how I’ve acted like a spoiled kid. I’m sorry.” Years of grief tumbled out along with a flood of tears, but Dekker didn’t care. He let them flow, knowing it was time to move on.

Frank Hoyt yanked Dekker back into his arms. “It’s me who needs to apologize. I was wrong about you.”

“No, you weren’t, Dad. I was immature, but I’ve learned how to better myself.”

“I’m proud of the man you’ve become. I love you.” His father’s voice quivered.

Dekker smiled. His best friend was back. “I love you too, Dad.”

His father tightened his grip. “It’s time to tell this girl how you feel,” he whispered. He released his son. “I need to call your mother. Constable, you have a sat phone I could use?”

“You betcha. This way.” He gestured toward the door.

Dekker eyed Blaire, then Manny.

Not here.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and helped her outside. Dekker pointed to a nearby tree. “There.”

They moved to the aspen’s shelter.

The downpour had changed into a gentle rain, but Dekker didn’t mind. He had to tell her how he felt. He pushed a strand of hair off her face. “Are you okay?”

Her lip trembled. “I am now. I thought I’d never see you again. I have to tell you something.”

He placed his finger over her lips. “Me first. God and I had a talk while I was hanging over the cliff’s edge.”

Blaire’s beautiful eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m okay. God saved not only my physical life, but my faith. I surrendered back to Him, Blaire.”

“I’m so glad.”

He inhaled, gathering his words. “For years, I held on to the guilt of Aaron’s death, the bitterness of Eve’s betrayal and Dad’s hurtful words, but it washed away with the cliff’s mud when I gave it all over to God. I realized something today.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to be more than friends, but I’m so scared you don’t. Blaire, I’ve dreamed of—”

Her lips smothered his, cutting off the rest of his confession. Not that he minded. Dekker savored the moment and returned her kiss as it ignited something in him he thought he’d never find.

True love.

Blaire released him. “Does that answer your question?”

He caressed her face then remembered her other reactions to his touch and stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m learning to trust again.” Tears moistened her eyes. “You see, I was kidnapped at age eighteen and almost sold into a human trafficking ring.”

“What?”

“Yes. Only a few people know. I kept it a secret because I blamed myself for being so easily deceived by fame. I was young and foolish. A woman lured me in by promising me a modeling career. By the time I realized she lied, I was in a shipping container with other young women. My father saved us.” She blew out a breath.

“All that and Luca’s betrayal gave me a fear of being touched, so that’s why I’ve pulled back. No longer.”

She tugged him out from under the tree. “Right now, I want to let the rain wash away the gunk from this day. I’m falling for you, Dekker Hoyt.” She lifted his hand high and twirled around him.

“The feeling is mutual.” He drew her back into his arms and kissed her, letting the raindrops cleanse the grime away.

And purify him with peace and hope.

Hope that only comes from God.