Page 7 of Danger in the Wilderness (National Park Protectors #1)

B laire ducked to avoid a dangling branch and sprinted toward the location she’d last heard Dekker’s moan. “Dekker! Where are you?”

Silence.

Fallen branches cracked underneath heavy movement nearby. Blaire halted, holding her breath.

A shadow lurked between the trees ahead.

Blaire didn’t notice a flash of yellow and orange, indicating the person looming wasn’t wearing a searcher’s vest. Could it be PCK?

She hid behind a cluster of trees, waiting for both the perp to leave the area and her heart to slow down. Don’t give an assailant an opportunity to strike. When in doubt, hide until help arrives. Her father’s words from long ago returned. He had engrained them into both Izzy’s and Blaire’s heads.

When the footsteps retreated deep into the woods, Blaire inched her way out from behind the trees, being careful to remain silent. Lord, where is Dekker? Keep him safe.

Blaire surveyed the area, looking for any signs of the suspect, and tuned into nature, but only the birds chirping in the trees sounded. She had to risk that the perp was gone and call out.

Blaire inhaled, gathering courage. “Dekker, where are you?”

Silence filtered among the tweeting birds.

Blaire wandered into a grove, calling out at different intervals.

Finally, a moan answered her cry. She pivoted toward the sound. “Dekker?”

“Down. Here. Be. Careful. PCK.” Dekker’s labored words revealed his state.

He was hurt.

Blaire steered toward his voice. “Where?”

“Pit.”

She stopped in front of a crudely dug opening on the forest’s floor. Someone had concealed the hole to trap their prey.

Dekker.

Blaire dropped to her knees and took out her flashlight from her backpack, shining it into the pit. She sucked in a breath.

Dekker lay at the bottom among dirt, fallen branches and roots. His eyes shone in the light’s beam. Grime from the hole soiled his handsome face.

“Are you okay?”

“Blaire. PCK. Nearby.” Once again, his broken words betrayed his condition.

“He’s gone.”

Dekker shifted his body and winced.

“You’re hurt. I’m getting help.” Blaire unzipped her backpack’s front pocket and retrieved the radio Dekker gave her. She hit the button. “Jayla. Need help. Dekker is in a pit. He’s hurt.” She realized her mumbled sentences weren’t making sense.

The radio crackled to life. “Blaire, come again.”

Blaire stood and studied her location. “Dekker’s trapped. We’re about two kilometers from the Dogwood Trail junction, in a small grove.” She paused. “Jayla, he’s hurt.”

“I’m fine, Blaire. I can climb out.” Dekker’s weakened voice divulged otherwise.

Blaire shone the light into the hole. “No, you’re not. Stay put.”

“How bad, Blaire?” Jayla’s tone elevated.

“He’s talking and says he’s fine.” Blaire looked into the hole.

Dekker cradled his left arm.

Jayla harrumphed. “When my brother says he’s fine, he’s not.”

Hercules’s bark sounded through the airwaves.

“Hurry.” Blaire inhaled and then exhaled slowly. She had to calm her racing heart and help pull Dekker from his underground prison.

“On. Our. Way.” Jayla’s fragmented words revealed she was running.

Blaire tucked the radio back into her bag. “Dekker, help is coming.”

Silence.

She shone her light back into the hole, her pulse throbbing in her ears.

Dekker had passed out. Probably from the pain.

Get here quickly, Jayla. Lord, help Dekker be okay.

A bark filtered through the grove ten minutes later, and Blaire shot to her feet. “Jayla, over here.”

Jayla, Bryson and Hercules emerged through the tree line, racing toward her. Jayla wiggled her arms out of her backpack straps and removed a coiled rope. “Blaire, is he okay?”

“He passed out for about five minutes. He’s conscious, but I can tell he’s weak.”

Jayla leaned over the hole’s opening. “Dekker! You okay?”

“Never been better.” He laughed then winced.

“Liar. You can’t hide your pain from your sister. We’ll get you out. Hang tight.”

“Not going anywhere, sis.”

Blaire smiled. She loved the brother and sister banter.

Izzy came to mind. Even though their relationship had struggled throughout the years, recent events had propelled them closer.

They stayed in constant touch, and Izzy was planning a trip to the Yukon at the end of the summer.

Blaire couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around her, but right now she had to concentrate on helping bring Dekker out of the pit.

Bryson brought out a harness. “Let’s get him out of there.” He hooked Jayla’s rope to the belt and inched to the edge. “Dek, I’m throwing down the harness and rope. Can you hook it around your waist? Is your arm strong enough?”

“I’ll manage.” Dekker shuffled to a standing position, leaning against the side. “Ready.”

Bryson lowered the rope over the edge. “Heading your way, Dek. Watch your head.”

Hercules whined and pranced around the hole, stopping now and then to peer down, as if keeping guard.

“Herc, Uncle Dek will be fine.” Jayla ruffled her K-9’s fur.

His tail shot in the air, wagging in a helicopter fashion.

“Yes, you found him, and you love him.” Jayla gestured toward the animal. “That’s his alert that he found his mark.”

Hercules barked and dropped to his belly, creeping closer to the hole’s edge.

“Dekker told me all about how smart he is and that he’s saved multiple skiers.”

“Yes, his reputation precedes him.” Bryson continued to lower the rope but turned back to Blaire. “He’s getting a little conceited.”

Hercules barked.

Blaire laughed. “I don’t think he agrees.”

“Got it,” Dekker yelled, bringing them all back to the task at hand.

Blaire shone her light into the hole.

Dekker struggled to fasten the harness with one hand. Moments later, he secured the belt. “Ready. Please get me out of here.”

Bryson put on gloves and grasped the rope. “Herc, pull!”

The K-9 positioned himself behind Bryson and latched on to the rope with his strong teeth.

From what Blaire understood about the dog, he extracted many avalanche victims from the heavy snow.

Jayla stuffed her gloves on and grabbed the rope behind Hercules. “Pull! Slow!”

Together, the trio tugged the rope in synchronization, easing Dekker from the hole. He winced when he reached the top.

Jayla turned from her position. “Blaire, grab him.”

Blaire rushed to Dekker’s side and cradled her hand under his right shoulder, dragging him away from the opening.

Jayla dropped the rope and fell beside her brother, bringing him into her arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tears trailed down her cheeks. “I couldn’t lose you and—”

Dekker patted his sister’s back. “We’ll find Dad, sis.”

Blaire stepped backward, giving the pair a moment. Dekker’s gentleness toward his sister impressed Blaire. It was clear the two were close.

Clouds moved in and blocked the sun’s rays. It wouldn’t be long before a storm played havoc in the area. Even though the sunset came later in the Yukon during the summer months, heavy rains and lightning made the wilderness dangerous.

“What did Herc alert to earlier?” Dekker massaged his arm.

“Is it broken?” Jayla peeled off her gloves and inched her hand over her brother’s forearm. “I called the paramedics. They should be here soon.”

“Probably just strained.”

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just sore, sis. Stop worrying.” Dekker placed his hands on the ground and pushed himself up. “You didn’t answer my question. What did Herc alert to earlier?”

Jayla reached into her bag and brought out a piece of torn fabric. “This. I’m guessing it ripped off while PCK was hauling Dad through the trees. We found drag marks close to where the fabric hung on a branch.”

“Any search updates?” Dekker rubbed his forehead.

“Last I heard, there’s been no sightings of Dad. Your supervisor is about to call off the search. A storm is moving in soon.”

“So much for the meteorologist’s nice weekend report. But we have to keep looking. We don’t have a lot of time to find him before—”

“Don’t say it, Dek.” Jayla stuffed the rope into her backpack. “We. Will. Find. Him.”

Dekker moved closer to Blaire. “Have you finalized your profile?”

“Not yet. We’re still missing some pieces.

” Blaire hated to share guesses. It wasn’t how she did her job.

Years of studying serial killers and evidence in each case helped to determine how they worked.

However, not every case or serial killer was the same.

Blaire raised her index finger. “Wait, Jayla. Where did you find the shirt?”

“Near here. Why?”

“Herc barked and Blaire took off.” His eyes flashed. “You shouldn’t have done that. You’re not armed, and there’s a killer on the loose.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I got excited. But I’m thinking maybe PCK purposely ripped your father’s shirt and hung it on the branch to lure you in this direction.”

Dekker’s jaw dropped. “To trap me?”

“Yes. He’s toying with you.”

“No. He wanted to kill me. His final words before he left were ‘Enjoy your last hours, Mr. Park Warden.’” He latched on to Blaire’s arm. “He also called me by name.”

“He knows you and targeted your father for a reason.” Blaire tapped her finger on her chin. “I hate to guess, but he wants you both out of the picture because you’re a threat. He kidnapped your dad ahead of schedule. He’s changed his timeline. That tells me one thing.”

“What?”

Blaire bit her lip. She hated to reveal her thought, but Dekker had to know. “His rage has taken over. Time is running out to find him and the other victim, Clara.”

The group drew in a simultaneous breath.

***