Page 40 of Silent Bones (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #7)
P anic gripped her. The chloroform smell still clung to her face like a chemical burn, making her eyes water and her head pound with each step.
Avery stumbled forward along the narrow trail, her bound hands making it impossible to balance properly on the uneven ground.
The rope around her wrists had rubbed the skin raw, and every time she tried to slow down, Dale's hand would shove against her shoulder blades, driving her onward.
Her legs felt like rubber, but her mind was finally starting to clear. Clear enough to be terrified.
"Dale, please," she said, her voice hoarse and cracked. "This is insane. What happened... it was an accident. We are just teens. We didn't understand?—"
"Shut up." His voice was flat, emotionless. "Keep walking."
"We never meant for anyone to get hurt!" The words came out in a rush now, desperation bleeding through.
"It was Jesse who moved the warning signs, not me.
I didn't even know he'd done it until afterward.
He thought it was just about keeping people out of the good camping spots.
We were stupid, but we weren't trying to?—"
"You didn't listen," Dale cut her off, his grip tightening on her arm as she stumbled over a root. "You never do. None of you ever listened. Now keep moving."
She tried to plant her feet, to resist, but he was too strong. His fingers dug into her bicep and yanked her forward so hard she nearly fell.
"Get off me! You're hurting me!"
Dale's laugh was harsh. "You don't know the meaning of hurt. But you will." He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear.
The trail stretched ahead into the growing shadows of late afternoon, winding upward through dense forest toward whatever nightmare Dale had planned at the abandoned fire tower. Behind them, Avery could hear no sounds of pursuit, no voices calling her name.
Only the sound of her own ragged breathing and Dale's steady footsteps, driving her forward.
The hand-drawn map spread across the hood of Noah's SUV like a medieval treasure chart, its lines and careful notations revealing the mind behind it.
Dale had marked every landmark, every trail junction, every geographic feature between his wilderness cabin and the red circle that marked his final destination: St. Regis Mountain Fire Tower.
"He's not trying to hide anymore," McKenzie said, studying the route with a tactical eye. "This thing's so detailed it's practically GPS coordinates."
Noah traced the path with his finger, recognizing the terrain from years of hiking these mountains.
The route Dale had chosen wound through some of the most remote wilderness in the High Peaks region.
A collection of steep climbs, dense forest, places where cell service died and civilization became a distant memory.
"It's a three-hour hike to the tower in good conditions," Noah said. "Maybe four, considering he's moving with a hostage."
Callie was already on her radio, coordinating with dispatch. "We need air support. Helicopter with thermal imaging and a tactical team. This terrain's too rough and we're losing daylight."
"Copy that," came the dispatcher's voice. "State Police chopper's inbound, ETA twenty minutes."
Noah folded the map and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Around them, the wilderness pressed in on all sides.
The ancient pines and hardwoods created a canopy so thick it felt like standing in a cathedral.
Somewhere ahead, Dale was forcing Avery through this same forest, following the path he'd carefully planned and marked for them to follow.
"Why the fire tower?" McKenzie asked. "What's special about that place?"
"Don't know," Noah replied.
They shouldered their packs and began following Dale's route, moving in single file along what appeared to be an old game trail. The map proved unnervingly accurate, every boulder, every creek crossing, every change in elevation exactly as Dale had marked it.
Fifteen minutes in, Callie spotted the first evidence.
"Blood," she called softly, kneeling beside a granite outcrop. "Fresh drops, maybe an hour old."
Noah examined the dark spots splattered across the gray rock. Not a lot of blood, but enough to suggest injury. "Could be from forcing her through rough terrain. Or something worse."
They photographed the evidence and continued, the trail climbing steadily now through stands of birch and maple. The helicopter's distant rotors were audible above the canopy.
“Ground team, this is Air One,” came the pilot's voice through their headsets. "We've got visual on your location. Thermal imaging shows two heat signatures approximately three miles ahead of you, moving slowly up the mountain trail."
"Copy that, Air One. Can you confirm both signatures are mobile?"
"Affirmative. Both targets appear to be walking, though one seems to be lagging behind the other."
Noah felt a surge of relief. Avery was still alive and still mobile.
They pressed on, finding more evidence as they climbed.
A scrap of blue fabric caught on a thorn bush, the same color as the shirt Avery had been wearing in the trail cam footage.
Boot prints in soft earth that matched the tread pattern from Dale's house.
And every few hundred yards, more blood drops, suggesting Avery was injured but still being forced to walk.
The trail grew steeper as they approached the base of St. Regis Mountain, the path switching back and forth through increasingly dense forest. Noah's legs burned with the effort, and he could hear McKenzie and Callie breathing hard behind him.
Dale had chosen his route well, difficult enough to slow pursuit, but not so treacherous as to prevent them from following.
The voice from the helicopter crackled through their headsets again: "Ground team, we've got visual on the fire tower. Two figures are near the structure. They appear to have stopped moving."
Noah pulled out binoculars and scanned the mountainside ahead.
Through a gap in the trees, he could make out the steel framework of the fire tower rising above the forest canopy like a skeletal finger pointing at the sky.
Even at this distance, he could see movement at its base.
Two tiny figures that had to be Dale and Avery.
"How far?" McKenzie asked.
"Maybe half a mile. Another thirty minutes of climbing."
They resumed their ascent, the evidence trail growing fresher with each step. The blood drops were more frequent now, and Noah spotted what looked like drag marks in the soft earth where Avery might have fallen and been hauled back to her feet.
As they climbed higher, more of the fire tower became visible through the thinning trees.
The structure was larger than Noah had expected, a steel framework tower rising thirty-five feet above the forest floor, with a small observer's cabin at the top.
Built in the 1920s, abandoned since 1990, it had been slowly surrendering to rust and weather.
"Air One, this is ground team. Do you still have eyes on our targets?"
"Affirmative. Both figures are now at the base of the tower structure. They appear to be climbing. Repeat, they are ascending the tower."
Noah felt his stomach drop. Dale was taking Avery up to the observation deck. From there, he'd have a commanding view of the entire area and complete tactical advantage over any ground-based approach.
The final stretch of trail was the steepest yet, winding through a maze of boulders and deadfall that forced them to climb single-file.
Noah's lungs burned in the thin mountain air, but he pushed harder, driven by the knowledge that every minute of delay gave Dale more time to prepare whatever finale he had planned.
They crested a final ridge and found themselves at the base of St. Regis Mountain, the fire tower rising directly ahead of them through a clearing in the forest. The structure looked even more imposing up close, a lattice of steel beams and cross braces supporting a steel observation cabin that swayed slightly in the mountain wind.
"There," he whispered, pointing upward. "Top of the tower."
McKenzie raised his binoculars. "I can see them. Dale's got her near the open windows. Looks like she's restrained, hands behind her back."
"Can you get a clear shot from here?"
"Negative. Too much angle, and if I miss..." He lowered the binoculars. "One wrong move and he could push her over the edge."
“I think that’s the point,” McKenzie added.
Noah studied the tower's structure, looking for any tactical advantage. The only way up was a single ladder built into the steel framework, completely exposed, offering no cover for an approach. Dale had chosen his position perfectly.
McKenzie spoke with the helicopter. "Air One, can you get closer to take a shot if need be?"
"Negative, ground team."
From somewhere high above them, carried on the mountain wind, came the sound of Dale's voice, calm, controlled, completely in command of the situation he'd orchestrated.
Noah looked up at the observation cabin, where Dale's silhouette was visible in the window, and felt the full weight of the trap they'd been led into. Dale had brought them to this tower for a reason. And whatever that reason was, they were about to find out.